And If You Cannot Bring Yourself to Kill

by winterlogic

Summary:

Xiao is the name he was given upon his new contract with the great dragon Rex Lapis, but before that, he was Alatus, a weak adeptus twisted to the whim of the God of Dreams. The blood on his hands and karmic debt on his shoulders corrupt his Heart and drive him toward death, until he happens across an otherworldly light stumbling through a lonely valley.

Aether has visited and fled more worlds than he can count, careful never to get attached, but this is the first time he's truly been trapped on any one of them, stripped of his power and split from his sister. He is certain he will starve and fade, chained by his immortality to a life of unending agony, unable to even put himself to rest— until he meets a lost and achingly gentle adeptus who brings him new hope.

It will be a long time before either of them learn how to receive the love they are given.

Notes:

I am Sick and in a Writing Delirium so here, take my Xiaother brainrot

Chapter 1: Life and Stars

Notes:

(Edit 5/10/21: Alatus no longer named in the first section.)

TW: Instance of non-gory torture

If you have any questions or concerns, or would like a summary regarding any TW in this fic, just drop me a comment on the relevant chapter and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!

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The adeptus is born of the longest, darkest night of the year, in the harsh of a storm and beneath the earth-shaking explosion of a lightning strike.

In the wake of this new birth, the shattered Heart of a fallen adeptus sinks away into the bloodstained ground, a being of the earth conceiving a being of life, but the adeptus who follows will never know of his own origins. Instead, the moments after he opens his eyes are ones in which he stumbles through the darkness and pounding flood, instinctually searching for shelter with nothing but blinding flashes of electro to guide him.

Although his knowledge of the world is nothing more than that which fickle nature provided him at birth, the new adeptus knows that he is as fragile as a butterfly’s wings in the face of this divinely inspired storm, and so he waits.

And waits. And waits.

Elsewhere, the God of Geo and the earth itself, Rex Lapis, and the Overlord of the Vortex, Osial, are locked in deadly combat, a final battle between two would-be Archons that will weave the future of Teyvat. But this, too, is something the young adeptus will never understand.

All he knows is wind and wet, stiffness and cold, the stinging of the elements over his bare skin, and the terrible, aching pull of loneliness, the kind that can only come about when one is denied the warmth and comfort and closeness that their very being screams for.

Perhaps it is simply the world’s cruel irony that a life formed of death and storm and blazing power would be one whose vulnerable Heart longed for nothing more than gentleness, both given and received. Or perhaps Fate’s hands had slipped on a string, and, unable to turn back the march of time, had only been able to twist the threads of destiny around her mistake.

No matter the cause, the newly-born adeptus remains alone, alone, alone— and thus, it is little surprise that when the skies clear at last and the adeptus stumbles out of hiding, he is ready to latch onto anything that might end his misery. And when the God of Dreams and Torments happens by, extending a sharp-clawed hand to the desperate and innocent young life?

The adeptus knows no better than to take it.

-*-

There is a boy walking alongside the trickle of a stream that leads out of Nantianmen.

Bright and golden hair shines under the light of the fading sun, parts of his armor glint faintly as he moves, and it would not even require Alatus’s keen vision to spot such an eye-catching beacon. On its own, there is nothing particularly strange about the sight— but this valley has lain utterly abandoned since the second great dragon Azhdaha was sealed, the land so torn and the lingering aura of resentment so strong that even elemental vishaps and Xuanwen beasts refuse to settle in it.

To find another living being here, and one that shows no signs of being either spirit or divine? It is improbable enough to be worth Alatus’s attention.

His body aches as he silently tracks the boy, worn and scarred as it still is from the last fight the Master had demanded of him. Almost every day now, he consumes the Hearts of slain divines and the memories of old spirits, their powers inevitably twining with Alatus’s own and making him stronger and stronger against his will. The Master’s plan to form a peerless weapon is simple, but it shows no signs of failing any time soon. Alatus is swiftly becoming a herald of death, one feared even by gods— but with his Heart long torn from his chest, he has no chance of breaking free from this miserable path.

For now, though, the Master is not here, so perhaps Alatus can preserve the life of this one boy.

Darting along the edges of the cliffs that wall in the valley, Alatus watches as the golden-haired boy stops here and there to scratch through the mud, or pluck various small fruits and flowers that have only just begun to sprout again after the destruction of the land years ago. The heavy dirt stains on the boy’s boots and trailing ribbons of cape indicate that he has been doing this for a while.

How had the boy even gotten here? Nantianmen is far from the coastal city where Alatus knows the first great dragon Rex Lapis had gathered most of the mortals that remain in this country. Assuming that the boy truly is human, which Alatus is beginning to think more and more likely, he should’ve long been killed by one force or another on his way into the valley. But if he’s not a citizen of the harbor or a rare vagrant warrior…

The boy stumbles across an ancient stone building, half-sunken into the soft soil of the riverbank, and pauses to study it. Alatus stops with him. The roof appears to still be intact, which is more than can be said for most of the construction that had once stood in this place; and the building is encircled by a handful of scraggly trees and bushes, and a large, flat stone. It is there that the boy unloads his armful of herbs and fruits, settling beside them on the stone with a full-bodied slump.

…Surely this is not where the boy intends to take shelter for the swiftly approaching night?

But the longer Alatus watches, the more likely it seems. After tearing down a handful of tree branches and laying them out under the roof of stone hut, the boy kneels at the riverside and drinks his fill, visibly wincing at what Alatus knows to be bitter water; then returns to his shelter and sheds his boots, cape, scarf, and the hard, pointed segments of his armor.

Alatus can’t help but notice how pale his skin is underneath each removed piece.

Oblivious to his lone observer, the boy lays his clothes out on the flat rock— and soon after, as the final red streaks of daylight fade from the sky, he curls up on his makeshift bed of leaves, completely vulnerable, and simply… falls asleep.

Alatus has only survived this long in the world by understanding the hard truth that even a moment’s inattention will lead to certain death, whether from spirit, monster, god, or the whim of nature itself. Even the most powerless of mortals at least attempt to follow these laws of survival, so the boy’s carelessness is baffling.

And yet… even though Alatus knows he shouldn’t bother with this fool any longer and let the consequences come as they may, he can’t tear himself away from the sight of such a fragile, innocent, and shining life resting with a peacefulness Alatus hadn’t thought still existed in this world. So he watches and waits.

When elemental slimes bubble up from the streambed nearby, Alatus plunges down with barely a thought, dispelling their energies before they can even truly coalesce. When a shade formed of Azhdaha’s crawling rage rises from the nearby seal, searching for blood, Alatus tears it apart, mindless of the fresh injuries that are carved into his arms and back. They will heal soon enough.

He burns sigils into nearby rocks and trees, pouring as much power as he dares into the protections— too much and it will alert the Master, too little and they might as well not be there at all. It is likely a fruitless endeavor, and Alatus knows his efforts will only make the boy’s eventual death all the more painful. But this is one action he still has control over, and what little remains of his conscience won’t allow him to simply leave the clearly powerless mortal to his own devices.

It is only when the sun rises high enough to been seen over the valley walls and the boy begins to stir that Alatus is finally forced to leave. The Master will soon summon him back to the field of war, and if there is one thing Alatus has learned, it is to always be there when he calls.

--

Alatus isn’t sure how long it has been since his last visit to Nantianmen. Several suns had cycled across the sky, he thinks, but he can remember precious little beyond the blood on his hands, the nightmares on his tongue, and the crushing weight on his Heart as the Master had given him his orders.

How many mortals have fallen to his blade this time? A thousand? More? The divine Hearts of slaughtered adepti still choke Alatus from where the Master had forced them down his throat.

He needs something, anything to keep him sane and focus his mind away from the endless destruction. And the strange boy in the valley— assuming he still lives— is the only thing Alatus can think of that seems truly detached from the horrors of the war he fights.

Darkness has fallen by the time Alatus creeps within sight of the boy’s encampment, but to his surprise, the boy is still awake, perched on the edge of the stone beside his hut and staring into flickering light of a small fire before him.

A swelling sensation rises in Alatus’s chest at the sight, and he frowns for a moment, pressing a hand to his sternum. Is something wrong with his body? But after a moment the feeling fades, so he puts it from his mind.

Although Alatus had spent an entire night watching over the boy not so long ago, it is only now that he truly begins to notice the mortal’s appearance.

The long, golden braid that drapes over the boy’s shoulder had been impossible to miss earlier, but now Alatus sees the glimmer of jewelry at the end of the braid and dangling beneath the boy’s left ear. His eyes, too, glow in the firelight, though Alatus is just unable tell what color they are thanks to the flickering. Exposed arms and torso display a trim-but-strong body, and though Alatus has yet to see any sign of a weapon, he can guess that this boy is a warrior of some sort. Finally, his face, though pensive at the moment, seems soft and open, untouched by the bloodshed and loss that envelops every nation in Teyvat.

Not for the first time, Alatus wonders where this human could possibly have come from.

Carefully, he slips closer, darting in a flash of wind to the valley floor and making sure to remain hidden among clusters of rocks and trees. At this distance, he can see that all the boy’s clothing is stained with brown mud, and it is clear he has nothing else to change into. Or, no, Alatus realizes. He doesn’t have anything at all, and how is it possible that a mortal with nothing but the clothes on his back has survived for so long in this place?

The boy heaves a sigh then, shoulders slumping heavily, and Alatus strains his senses toward him, inexplicably desperate to follow the boy’s every movement.

A moment later, the boy stands and tilts his head up to where the moon is only a sliver in the sky. “Lumine… where are you? I miss you.”

His whisper is carried on the wind, and Alatus is left to wonder. Is this “Lumine” another traveling companion, perhaps? Whatever the case, it seems the boy has lost them, though such a fragment of information only raises more questions than it answers.

Well, it matters not. Alatus is only a distant observer and half-hearted guardian, and he does not need to know the details of this boy’s life; is probably safer if he keeps himself in the dark.

Still, he can’t stop a faint thread of want from pulling tight in his chest.

 

--

 

For a while after that, there is only war.

Alatus fights and bleeds and kills and bleeds again, hoping with every battle that he might finally be overpowered and allowed to fade back into the Ley energy of the earth. He once comes close, left to spill ichor and agony over the scorched ground after barely destroying the God of Corrosion. But in the end, it is the power he absorbed from that very fight that staves off his own death.

The Master comes to fetch him days later, staring at the blood and dust on Alatus’s robes with great disdain.

“You lived. Good.” Is all he has to say, and after being allowed one day to nurse his wounds in solitude, Alatus is sent back to the battlefield once more.

The karmic debt accumulated from the endless slaughter of innocents is beginning to drag upon Alatus’s shoulders, sending spikes of pain through his Heart with every successive kill. It follows him off the battlefield too, now, but the Master will hear nothing of trying to fix it, and so Alatus is forced to bite back the hurt and do whatever he must to retain his sanity. The more power he gains, the more terrible the thought of losing all control becomes. What new cruelties would the Master be able to inflict with a truly mindless weapon?

So that is how Alatus finds himself in Nantianmen yet again, perched in a tree dangerously close to the boy’s shelter and allowing his golden, innocent presence to wash away some of the dark chains that pull at Alatus’s Heart.

Dismayed, Alatus realizes the boy has grown thinner in the time he’d been gone— alarmingly so. His cheekbones stand out sharply on his face beside sunken eyes, ribs show beneath his ragged, short-cut undershirt, and his stomach is hollowed out. The boy is wearing none of his armor, and when Alatus looks, he spots it piled carefully beneath a large leaf in the stone hut. If he had to guess, he would say it has not been touched for a long time, now.

Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised. Though Nantianmen might be an improbably safe place compared to nearly everywhere else in Liyue now, it is still a valley of dark energy and destruction. Of course there are very few plants and animals there, and even fewer that mortals may eat without consequence. Truthfully, Alatus is amazed that the boy has managed to survive as long as he has.

But despite the inevitability of his fate, the boy seems determined to carry on.

Enough time has passed that the moon is now full and brilliant in the sky, and under the silvery light, Alatus can see the boy’s fingers shake as he weaves some sort of lotus-stem net, skillfully twisting the fibers over and under, over and under, and stopping only to mash new stems together. The moon reaches its zenith, then begins to descend, and still the boy doesn’t stop for rest. Alatus is an immortal adeptus with no need for sleep, but even he is growing weary as he watches the mortal’s tireless, urgent work.

Shifting a little in the tree, Alatus scans the area again, always keeping an eye out for approaching danger— and when he returns his attention to the boy, he finds him paused in his labor, staring straight at the branch where Alatus sits.

He shoots up instantly, leaping from his perch and fleeing in a burst of anemo and shadow— careless, how had he allowed himself to grow so careless?— ignoring the boy’s cry of “Wait!” behind him.

For both their sakes, Alatus must never go back. Though this time, at least, he won’t deny himself the hurt of the loss.

 

--

 

He goes back.

Memories of the boy and his looming starvation sear at the edges of Alatus’s gods-damned conscience, and even as he travels from fight to fight, dragging his wounded body through storm and blood and pain, he finds his eyes catching on stray birds and foxes, sunsettias and flower bulbs, anything that could be safe for a mortal to eat. Eventually, he simply resigns himself to the fact that he will end up visiting the boy once again.

But though his mind is made up, it is several more suns before the war lulls and the Master loosens his hold on Alatus’s Heart. Useless fear scratches through Alatus’s stomach, knowing full well that a mortal in such a state as Alatus had last seen him might have long since passed on.

Without the energy left to warp, Alatus can do nothing but sprint with all the speed his torn body will allow, leaping over rifts and plunging down and down until he reaches the darkened valley floor. All is silent here, not even a slime to disturb the peace, and Alatus creeps forward until he can see the boy’s camp. A stomped-out fire shows a faint ember glow, the lotus-stem net Alatus had seen last time is piled neatly on a corner of the flat rock, and the boy himself is curled up in restless sleep on his bed of branches.

The dark, whispering threads of a nightmare make themselves known on the edges of Alatus’s awareness, but he brushes them aside. This fleeting dream, at least, is easy to ignore.

Cautiously, Alatus draws nearer and nearer, taking the boy’s nightmare as a sign that he will not wake before Alatus can make his escape. An odd, carefully stacked heap of stones a short distance from the campfire catches Alatus’s eye, and he pauses to study it. It almost appears to be… a small recreation of the great rock-and-iron altars he has seen mortals construct in order to make offerings to the divines. The intricately weaved vine flower placed at the top of the pile certainly completes the image.

Strangely curious, Alatus reaches out to trace one of the looping “petals” of the crafted flower— and can’t help a sharp inhale when something twists and shifts inside him, feeling his Heart rearrange itself, even at this distance.

The boy has made an offering to Alatus.

Surely this can’t be right. Alatus is a weapon, not a protector or provider, or even a god. He is merely an adeptus, and a poor one at that.

And yet.

His Heart is opened, somehow, ready to accept power from sincere offerings made toward him, ready to hear the prayers of his worshippers. It’s incredibly dangerous— all the Master must do now is look a little too closely at the Heart in his hands to see that Alatus has gained a supplicant he should not have— but it is difficult stir up the fear he should when a bright and clean power is fluttering through his body, like nothing he has ever felt before.

Slowly, maybe even reverently, Alatus scoops up the woven blossom, cupping it in both hands and feeling the boy’s soft plea to know more about him through it. It is a prayer he cannot grant, but perhaps there is something else he can do in return. Providing for the boy’s physical needs, at least, seems like a good start.

Alatus has never heard of any divine using their altars to trade with the mortals that follow them, but he does it anyway, pulling out the leaf-wrapped meat he’d hunted and cut earlier in the night and laying it atop the stones in the flower’s place. With any luck, the boy will know what to do with it.

For a moment, he considers getting even closer to watch the boy as he sleeps— but no, Alatus is already risking enough as it is. With one last glance back at the golden hair spilled out over the dust, Alatus pulls away in a rush of anemo and returns to the cold splendor of the Master’s palace.

--

“Alatus,” the Master calls him, harsh and impatient as always, “I have a new task for you.”

Of course, Alatus bends his head and submits to the Master’s will, but in the privacy of his own mind there is nothing but a spiraling dread. What could possibly be worse than the death and nightmares and misery he deals in now?

“You are strong now,” the Master says— and Alatus has been strong for far longer than he’d ever wanted, but he can never disagree with the Master’s words. “Strong enough that I believe you will survive my final blessing.”

All the previous “blessings” from the Master have proved to be no better than more cursed chains upon Alatus’s Heart, and he quails at the declaration. “What blessing, Master?” His voice is steady where his mind is not.

“As the God of Dreams, I have dominion over all energies of the subconscious, both mortal and divine, and those energies are what sustain me.”

Naturally, Alatus knows this already, knows that the Master knows he knows, so for the Master to be restating such an obvious thing…

“Unfortunately, even with my power, I cannot create another being so completely intertwined with dreams as I. However.” And here the Master’s cold fingers dig in under Alatus’s chin to lift it up. “I find that this comes close enough.”

Alatus screams.

Searing, tearing claws of the Master’s power shred through his body and mind, rearranging his chi in a starburst of agony, uprooting his natural connections to the ley lines of the earth. His Heart cracks under the strain, struggles to heal itself, cracks again. Ichor throbs like sludge in his veins. Jagged blades slip down his throat and into his stomach, ripping through soft flesh that should never be touched and carving out a new place for the Master’s blessing to rest.

Even his battle with the God of Corrosion, even being pinned to the ground by a spearhead for days on end, do not come close to the torture that Alatus writhes under now, and it

hurts.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsitHurts—

And then it’s over.

Alatus lies there, crumpled like a broken doll on the hard stone tiles and drawing in ragged, desperate gasps, completely unable to stop his body from trembling. The chill of the floor seeps into his cheek and arm and side, but what is normally a bite of discomfort is now nothing but cool relief compared to the devastation Alatus has just survived.

“Well done,” the Master laughs, mocking, and Alatus coughs up a spray of bright red.

“Every good weapon should inherit the characteristics of its master, should it not? You will consume the dreams of mortals and divines to fuel your strength, and because I do so hate any contaminants in my power…” The Master’s boot sinks into Alatus’s ribs, kicking him over until he lies flat on his back. “I will also be forbidding you from eating anything else. You understand, don’t you, Alatus?” His face twists with a cruel smile.

“No… no,” Alatus groans weakly. He is an adeptus born of life, not earth, and his body is not meant to withstand a direct flow of energies from the Ley, such as dreams. It is why he has a Vision, why his powers are meant to be built upon small accumulations of strength as gifts from nature and the will of other lives.

Like the boy’s offering.

Without hesitation, the Master stomps hard upon Alatus’s stomach, and his body seizes as thin trickle of bile drips to the floor. “Disobedient weapons outlast their purpose.”

Truthfully, Alatus would be grateful if the Master were to end his life right here and now, but they both know full well that so long as the Master holds his Heart, any disobedience on his part is a mere façade.

“Before, you were only able to taste the terrors and desires that linger below conscious thought. But now”— the Master lifts his foot from Alatus’s shaking body— “You will swallow them whole. Get up, Alatus. This is where your ascension truly begins.”

And the chains of the Master’s command drag Alatus up from the ground, forcing into his hands his jagged spear of night and blood as his body rages against the twisted perversion of everything it was meant to be. But his will has never been his own, and there is nothing to do but obey.

Chapter 2: Heaving Dark

Notes:

Literally why am I like this when I know perfectly well I have no backup chapter for regular updates.

TW: Some torture and war violence, and graphic description of burn injury

Alatus is taken to the fringes of Rex Lapis’s great city as twilight settles over the terraced farmland, and he can feel the flicker and hum of the mortals’ meagre-but-bright energies in a whole new way, now. Those who are awake trail only faint gossamer threads that signify their distant ties to the Ley. Those who are asleep, however…

Their dreams swirl through the air, dark and rich and enticing, strong pulses of energy that connect their minds to the power of the earth. It would be so, so easy for Alatus to simply cut the threads apart and let their vitality spill across the ground— and now that the Master’s “blessing” has sunken its roots deep into his body, it would only require a little more effort to take their strength as his own.

With a helpless shiver, Alatus turns to look at the Master’s placid face and watchful eyes surveying the scattered mortal homes.

“This will make an excellent first test,” the Master says, eyes flicking down just enough to meet Alatus’s. “You know what to do, I think. Alatus— destroy them all.”

A ragged cry scrapes its way from Alatus’s throat as the chains on his Heart pull taut.

He plunges.

--

Nightmares flood his mouth like acid and shining trails of red drip endlessly from his fingertips.

The ebony point of his spear hums and glows darkly, drinking in the blood and pain that Alatus spills with abandon.

A girl barely taller than his waist screams as Alatus pins her to the floor and drives his blade through her back. Then all is silent.

Endless ribbons of an old, cherished dream tear and bubble up with diverted energy, and Alatus rips and chews and swallows until his bones creak under the pressure of unnatural power. The grey-haired man whose dream it was crumples soundlessly to the ground, pale and utterly drained.

Somehow, the fields have begun to burn, but Alatus can do nothing but run straight through, the flames scorching his skin red, then peeling, then black.

“Demon!” A woman wails, and Alatus agrees with her. But that doesn’t stop him from tearing the dreams from her mind before yanking her head back by the hair to snap her fragile neck.

In the distance, Alatus can hear the Master’s wild laugh, but the compulsion of his order won’t even allow him to look.

Then the air is still and silent and empty, for not a single living being remains in this razed and bloodstained place. The chains loosen, just a fraction, and Alatus returns, dropping to his knees at the Master’s feet and staring blankly down into the dust below. He must not think, cannot allow himself to remember or ponder or regret. He is a weapon, a tool in the hand of another. That is all.

The Master’s hand lands in his hair and yanks, forcing Alatus’s face up.

“I believe I am safe to call this a most overwhelming success, am I not? I have so many plans for you, Alatus. Rex Lapis will not fancy himself a king for much longer.” The Master spits the last words as he drags Alatus to his feet. “Return to the palace. I have more work for you tomorrow.” And with that, he vanishes in a wisp of color and mist.

Alatus stands there for he does not know how long, his back to the flickering light of the blaze and breathing in the acrid tang of smoke and blood. The karmic debt that wraps around his limbs pulls tighter even as he waits, digging into his soul and carving away at his Heart.

He needs, something, anything that will keep him from slipping away into the dark and tempting void of nothingness that promises to end to the pain. He needs to return to Nantianmen and see the boy once more.

--

The valley, when Alatus arrives, is shadowed and peaceful, and he is grateful for it. Every step is agony as his fire-blackened skin peels away in strips and ichor seeps slowly from every inch of exposed tissue. Those things alone might not be enough to bring Alatus to his knees, but the weight of his karmic curse, normally bearable, is suddenly so heavy that he can hardly stand. In this state, even the lowliest cicin might be able to best him.

Alatus considers climbing into his usual tree, but even that seems too difficult now. So instead, he huddles miserably behind a cluster of boulders and listens, eyes shut, to the faint sounds of the boy rustling around his camp. If he is lucky, perhaps the boy will have made another offering, and will go to sleep so Alatus can accept it before he is forced to leave again.

A bone-deep exhaustion settles over him and he relaxes for just a moment— and suddenly the boy is standing over Alatus’s slumped body, his eyes (golden, like his hair) wide with obvious horror and hands fluttering helplessly inches away from Alatus’s skin.

Alatus shoots to his feet, intending to make his escape yet again, but his legs refuse to hold his weight any longer and he collapses back down with a sharp cry.

“Oh no no, don’t move, please don’t go,” the boy begs. “What happened to you?”

Alatus tries to tell him to back away, but the only sound he can make is a pitiful groan.

Sucking in a breath, the boy squares his small, hunger-thinned shoulders. “Alright. Alright. I know you didn’t want me to see you, but you’re going to die if I leave you like this. And… I’m sorry,” he adds, bending down. “This is going to hurt.”

Alatus won’t die from injuries like these, and he would tell the boy so if his voice would just work correctly— but then the boy’s searing hands scoop under his back and legs, dragging through ichor and flaking skin, and all Alatus can do is grit his teeth through a scream.

Somehow, he never considers trying to fight his way out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” the boy chants as he moves. The walk isn’t long, and upon their return to the campsite, Alatus is laid out over the top of the large, flat rock there. He shivers violently at the touch of night-cooled stone.

“I don’t have much, and I definitely don’t have the right plants for treating burns, but at the very least I can make a poultice to cover your skin,” the boy rambles. “Berries, what did I do with the berries…”

The boy is… helping him. Alatus blinks up at the star-speckled sky, trying to reconcile the boy’s kindness with his own corrupted existence, trying to understand how he hasn’t been chased away even though he must look like a true monster— never mind that he’s just slaughtered an entire village of mortals.

There’s a minute of rustling and the boy’s quiet muttering, then the regular clack of stone on stone starts up, the sound sharp and grounding in Alatus’s ears. Not long after, the boy begins to hum softly as well, a lilting tune that rises and falls in time with the steady beat of his work.

Alatus drifts.

“It’s not much, but… we’ll just have to make do with what I have,” says a murmuring voice, and Alatus’s eyes shoot open again to see the boy sitting beside him on the rock. A large leaf is carefully folded between his hands.

The first hesitant touch to his face makes Alatus hiss, but the salve the boy has made is cool and soothing over the phantom heat Alatus can still feel licking over his body. He forces himself to stillness so as not to disrupt the achingly gentle fingers that smooth over his forehead and cheeks and eyelids, make their way down the lines of his sensitive neck, and carefully tug away the burnt remains of Alatus’s clothing.

A strange, heavy static is building in his head, one that blocks out memories of the blood on his hands and the sour, sickening taste in his mouth. And it seems Alatus’s Heart considers this an offering, because the longer the boy works, the stronger the pure, clean energy trickling though Alatus’s body grows.

It is a reward he does not deserve, but nothing short of the Master’s command could pull him away now.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have enough to cover every part of you,” the boy whispers as he sets aside the empty leaf. “But I tried to protect the… the worst of it.” The words are accompanied by a touch to Alatus’s salve-slick hands, where he would not be surprised if some of the fingers are charred nearly to the bone.

It’s fine, Alatus wants to tell him, you’ve done more than I ever could’ve hoped for— but his voice is still lost to the fire and pain, so he settles for clumsily shifting his arm enough to touch the boy’s hand in return.

Even that tiny movement makes the boy light up, and Alatus is nearly blinded by the radiance of his aura.

“Thank the gods you’re alright. Or as alright as possible, anyway.” The boy tosses the leaf away into the darkness and stands slowly. “You must not be human, right? I don’t think there are many mortals who could survive this sort of burn…”

As he speaks, the boy returns to his stone hut in careful, measured steps, not a single movement wasted. Like this, it’s easy to see how gaunt his body has become, muscles shrunken and skin pulled tight over bone in ways they should never be. His clothes hang loosely on his frame, filthy and torn and probably soon to fall apart entirely.

The boy so obviously has nothing to sustain himself with— and yet he’d still used precious resources to soothe Alatus’s wounds?

Settling on his makeshift bed with a half-woven basket in his lap, the boy begins to speak softly. “It was you who brought me that food, wasn’t it? Thank you for that. I think that was the only time I’ve eaten well since I ended up here.” A breathy laugh. “I hope you got my offering too. A common bit of handicraft isn’t really an appropriate gift— or at least it isn’t where I’m from— but I never have enough food to build up a supply, and silks and jewels aren’t really available down here.”

The boy pauses. “But I guess you knew all that already, since you brought me that meat. I’ve made offerings to a few divines before, but this is the first time any of them have given me something back, I think.” He giggles. “It’s kind of nice, actually, getting to imagine we’re more like partners rather than a ruler and his subject, you know?”

The quiet chatter carries on until dark clouds begin to scutter over the moon, obscuring its light. Then the boy lays down his basket and curls up in his nest of branches and leaves, and, with a sigh of goodnight, drifts off to sleep.

Threads of his dream begin to ripple through the air, now tangible under Alatus’s fingers. There’s something odd about them though, and when he forces himself to focus through the pain, he realizes they’re not connected to Teyvat’s ley lines at all, and instead fade off into thin air in every direction.

Stunned, Alatus wonders at the implications of it. Even adepti and gods as powerful as the Master are still tied to the Ley, for no matter how far they ascend, their strength cannot spring from nothing.

But this boy… is he somehow not from Teyvat at all?

It’s not worth thinking about now.

With great effort, Alatus peels his body from the rock and limps to his feet. There’s just one thing he wants to check before he leaves.

The tiny, sparkling stone core of a geo slime wrapped in a fragile net of vines is resting on top of the altar. He picks it up and cradles the charm close to his heart, allowing himself one last indulgence of the untainted energy and lingering impression of the boy’s gratefulness and wish for Alatus’s wellbeing.

Like the woven flower, this offering too cannot risk entering the Master’s palace. But Alatus will enjoy it while it lasts.

--

He kills and devours dreams and kills again.

Rumors begin to trickle from the other divines to Alatus’s ears, saying that Rex Lapis has struck down the head of Guyun’s ruling Chi, and that he now pursues the remnants of that god’s powerful body.

Then one day, as Alatus vomits up the black sludge of nightmares he’d swallowed in the previous night’s battle, the ground begins to heave and quake, shuddering under the force of some massive, unknown power.

Alatus struggles to keep his footing for nearly a minute before the land around him finally settles with a groan, leaving behind new crevices and hills and cracked plateaus of stone. There’s a new hum of energy in the air now, a sense of something lost and replaced, and Alatus must find out what it is. He wipes his mouth— leaving a smear of corrosive darkness on the back of his hand— before calling on his Vision and darting off toward the source of the earth-shaking change.

--

The Chi is dead, or at least as dead as a god of his status can ever be, and Rex Lapis has sealed his blood and limbs and bones beneath five pillars of unshakable geo power. The gods and adepti all across Liyue are shaken. If Rex Lapis can defeat the Chi, who is almost as old as Teyvat itself, then what chance do the rest of them stand against the great geo dragon’s wrath?

The Master paces across the great hall of his palace while Alatus trembles in a corner, hoping to avoid his attention. It’s the closest he’s ever seen the Master to fear.

Now that Azhdaha, Osial, and the Chi are sealed and gone, Saizhen, the God of Dreams and Alatus’s Master, is the only other ruling god left in Liyue. And at this point, the question is not if Rex Lapis will come for him, but merely when, and the Master knows it.

Alatus wonders what he will do now. Though he has never seen the Master so much as falter, even the least exaggerated of the rumors paint Rex Lapis in a truly terrifying light, and suddenly Alatus finds himself doubting even the Master’s powers.

“Alatus,” the Master calls sharply, and how Alatus has come to hate the cold dismissiveness of his name on the Master’s tongue.

“There is no time to waste. You must become a weapon worthy of going up against even Rex Lapis.” He smiles, slow and terrible. “Come. We start now.”

And with a shiver of despair, the last thing Alatus will allow himself to feel from here on out, he bends his head and follows.

Notes:

So the thing I've made up for this fic is that gods and adepti have "Hearts", which is like... the source of their power I guess. There are two kinds of adepti: earth born (aka they sprang fully formed from something in nature, like a pond or a mountain or the entirety of the geo element + they naturally have animal or spirit forms [see: Rex Lapis is a dragon]) and life born (aka were formed from another life, whether a dying god, human, or animal, or an actual live birth between two living beings, at least one of which must be an adeptus/god + they naturally have human-looking forms [see:Xiao and Ganyu]).
Earth born adepti's Hearts are basically just the earth itself- they can't give their Hearts away or have them taken (With the exception of Archons and gnoses), and the earth continually purifies any corruption on their Hearts, no one has to do that for them.
Life born adepti are more vulnerable in that their Hearts can be separated from their bodies, used to control them if the holder is malicious, and need another being of suitable power to purify their Hearts for them. The advantage of this ability to give someone else their Heart, though, is that they can combine powers, strengthening both the adeptus and the holder.
Imma try and explain this in-story too, but have an extra info-dump anyway just in case I do a bad job.

Thanks for reading! <3

Chapter 3: Bite 'Til it Bleeds

Notes:

Me, planning: okay, so, three thousand years of pining sounds good yeah?

TW: More of Xiao's suffering, descriptions of starvation

(Edit 5/24/21: Clarifying Xiao's disappearance near the end of the chapter.)

Alatus does not know how many suns pass before his next visit to the valley, the days and nights blurring together in a haze of bright, bright crimson and simmering misery.

Now that the boy has already seen him and the risk of the Master knowing they have met will hang over their heads no matter what, Alatus doesn’t bother hiding. He knows what he looks like— the scarred skin, spidery black veins from the taint of nightmares, dark horns that curve up from his forehead, growing with his power, and sharp ebony and silver of his armor make him far less adeptus and far more the sort of monster he’s supposed to fight. Whether the boy accepts or rejects him— Alatus will have no say in the matter.

Twilight has left a warm orange glow over the valley, completely at odds with the icy dread in his soul. He feels the boy’s shimmering aura (alive, he’s alive) before he actually reaches the camp, and his steps drag as he pictures the way the boy’s eyes will widen in shock, then horror, then fear; running from Alatus the same way every other living being has learned to do.

And then he’s there, standing across the thin trickle of a stream and watching the boy— now with no shirt at all— slowly and shakily pound something in a shallowly curved stone. It takes a moment for him to look up and notice Alatus, and when he does— his eyes do shoot wide, but his next move is to leap up, tripping over his own feet as runs toward Alatus.

“You came back!” The boy cries, and he splashes across the water to launch himself into Alatus’s arms. Alatus catches him out of reflex more than anything else, and a good thing, too— he is still helplessly attempting to comprehend the events of the last few seconds, with little success.

In his grasp, the boy is feather-light and dangerously thin. He’s also breathing far too hard for a ten-step sprint over even ground.

“Oh…” The boy whispers, and when he looks up, Alatus meets his shining gaze. “You changed.” It is all he has to say, even as his eyes trace over Alatus’s horns and the throbbing veins in his jaw and forehead. “But thank the gods you’re alive. When I woke up that day and you were gone, I wasn’t sure…”

“You…” Alatus starts, then realizes he has no idea what to say to the boy. He’d been so prepared for rejection that he hadn’t even bothered to prepare a gift or thanks for the boy’s care last time.

“My name is Aether,” the boy says breathlessly. “Will you tell me yours?”

Aether. Alatus mouths it silently. Even the boy’s name is sweet and light.

Alatus hesitates to offer his own name in return, though. As one of his worshippers— the term doesn't feel right, but Alatus has no other way to refer to it— knowing Alatus’s name would allow Aether to call for him from anywhere at any time. And given that he spends most of his days entrenched in war where one slip could mean the end, he would be foolish to create even the possibility of such a thing.

“No.” He says, before he can think to temper the word with some softness.

The bo— Aether’s face falls before he covers it up with an apologetic smile. “That’s alright— I wasn’t breaking any taboos by asking, was I?” he interrupts himself anxiously.

Alatus shakes his head. “No. Rather, it’s… dangerous to know.” There. That’s a good enough reason to deny Aether his name, or so he hopes.

“I see…” Aether doesn’t ask any more questions about it, but Alatus can see a glint of keen understanding in his eyes. “In that case, what should I call you?”

Divines have many names and titles besides their first one, but the thought of Aether calling Alatus “demon” or “herald of death” makes him ache somewhere deep inside. So instead, he waves a dismissive hand. “Adepti are not so inflexible as to be defined by one name only. Call me whatever you like.”

“Adepti… Adeptus? Is that what you are?”

He doesn’t feel like one, most days, but it’s true enough. Jerkily, Alatus nods.

“I’ll just call you that, then.” Aether beams up at him. “Mister Adeptus.”

Alatus can’t help but gape for a moment. The title is so utterly ridiculous, completely misleading as to the power and influence that Alatus holds— and it’s also entirely innocuous, maybe even friendly, coming from Aether’s mouth.

In the end, all he says is, “Do as you wish.”

“I guess I will,” Aether laughs. Then, sheepishly— “I’m sorry to bother you more, but would you help me back to my bed? I really shouldn’t have sprinted out to meet you, but I was so excited I forgot.”

Right. Aether is still wasting away, even as they speak, and Alatus had been so self-absorbed he’d even forgotten to bring some more food for him. As gently as he can manage, Alatus slips an arm around Aether’s back to support him as they shuffle back to the stone hut.

By the time they get there, Aether is gasping for air again, his skin a pale shade that edges on grey and his brow layered in a sheen of sweat. He laughs weakly. “Hahh… I know I’m not exactly eating regularly, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” He turns to look Alatus in the eyes. “Thank you, Mister Adeptus.”

Alatus shakes his head, then hesitates. “If… if you’ll wait, I can hunt something for you to eat now.”

Aether blinks at him. “You’d do that for me?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Alatus inclines his head. “Yes.”

“Then… I’d be very grateful.”

The words are barely out of Aether’s mouth before Alatus is gone.

--

The moon has not even had time to rise over the walls of the valley before Alatus returns with an entire boar slung limply over his shoulder. Is it too much food? He has no idea if Aether has a way of preserving any extra meat, but for now, it’s better to have too much than too little.

Aether is lying on his side now, hands propped under his head and eyelids half-shuttered. “Welcome back,” he says drowsily, and Alatus feels a sudden rush of… something deep in his core, a fierce warmth he does not understand.

Whatever it is, if it’s an emotion he can’t identify, then it’s one he doesn’t need. Brushing the feeling aside, Alatus drops the boar’s corpse onto the large rock and does his best to skin and gut and drain it with only the awkward point of his spear. It’s strange, to use a weapon that has destroyed so many and been strengthened on their blood for something as mundane as butchering an animal for food.

Once the meat is cut into something resembling meal-sized portions, Alatus casts about for some way to prepare it. His Vision might be that of anemo, but he has more than enough raw power to snap a spark of flame into existence on the remnants of Aether’s campfire.

It has been a long time since Alatus last touched mortal food, but he at least remembers that the meat will be painfully bland without some form of seasoning. “Do you have anything to put on this?” He asks with a short gesture at the pile of steaks.

Aether huffs out a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “I haven’t had anything edible in this camp for a few days now.” Then, as if that statement wasn’t concerning enough, he carries on with, “It’s a bit of a vicious cycle, you know? If I don’t eat, I don’t have the energy to go out and search for food, but I can’t search without energy.”

Nothing to eat for a few days? And already clearly malnourished before that?

“…How are you still alive?”

Propping himself up on a shaky arm, Aether shoots him a wry smile. “Unfortunately, I can’t die from anything as ordinary as starvation. There is only one thing in this world that could truly kill me— though it, too, would be a long and painful death.”

Suddenly, Aether’s impossible dream threads make a lot more sense. “You are not mortal at all.”

“I suppose. It seems my body is that of a normal human, but my power allows me to defy such limitations,” Aether sighs. “As for exactly what that means... I hope you’ll let me keep what I actually am a secret for a little while longer.”

After refusing to give Aether his name, it would be hypocritical for Alatus to insist on an explanation, no matter how curious he is. He nods and turns back to the fire.

“The taste may be unpleasant, but the food will be done soon.”

“Well, I’m hardly about to complain. Maybe after I’ve gotten some of my strength back, I can think about enjoying my meals.” Aether laughs with an energy that almost covers up how heavily he slumps back to the ground.

After that, the only sounds are the calls of distant night birds, the crackle of the fire, and the sizzling of meat. The smell slowly brings to mind the pervasive, acrid odor of scorched corpses and blackened blood that always hangs over the fields of Alatus’s massacres.

With some effort, he chokes down his body’s useless effort to purge the corrosive, foreign energy that still churns in his stomach from the night before. He’d thought he was done rebelling against the Master’s blessing, but clearly his body needs more training.

Still, he can’t help but pull a little farther away from the fire until the food is done.

The meat is skewered on sticks, so it’s easy enough to simply lift them off the heat and carry them over to Aether, ready for eating.

“Here.” Alatus holds them out, and Aether takes one with surprising hesitance.

“Thank you. I’m not sure…” he shakes his head. “Never mind. It should be fine.” Then he takes a small bite, hissing around the mouthful as a curl of steam rises from the exposed center of the steak.

Alatus remains at a polite distance, watching Aether eat and desperately hoping the Master won’t call him back any time soon. For a minute, everything seems fine. Aether begins to take bigger bites as the food cools, sitting straighter to make swallowing easier, and Alatus almost goes back to the rock to decide how to preserve the remaining meat.

Then—

Aether chokes, body seizing up as he scrabbles out of his nest of branches to empty his stomach over the dirt beside. It doesn’t take even a second to reach his side, and Alatus grabs at his shoulders to stop him from falling into the puddle of his own blood-streaked vomit.

“Aether!” The panic in his own voice surprises him, but there’s no time to think about it, not when Aether is still breathing in thin, ragged wheezes, clearly unable to get enough air.

“Water… need—”

Alatus will probably be horrified by his own behavior later, but for now, he doesn’t hesitate to scoop up Aether’s still-trembling body and carry him down to the riverside. He props Aether up against his knees and dips a cupped hand into the water, bringing it to Aether’s lips. Most of it ends up spilling down Aether’s chin and onto his bare chest, but Alatus does see his throat work in a swallow, so he does it again and again.

At last, Aether breathing begins to even out and he tilts his head away from Alatus’s next palmful of water. “Th-thank you.”

“What happened?” Alatus asks urgently.

Aether coughs weakly. “I was being too optimistic, is what happened. But I didn’t— didn’t think I’d been starving for that long.” He sighs, then explains. “My body has weakened to the point it consumed its own ability take in new food.”

Horrified, Alatus stares at him. Mortals— or mortal bodies, anyway— will go so far as to destroy even the things that would allow them to recover? It is reminiscent of the way his own body rejects pure Ley energy from dreams, but at least that is something that never belonged in the first place.

“Then… if you cannot eat, how will your body heal itself?”

Aether winces. “Preferably— with a healer and a careful diet. But obviously… I don’t have many options here.”

Looking down at his own hands, Alatus finds himself wondering. Anemo is a restorative element, but he’s never used his powers for anything but destruction. It would be foolish to make his first attempt at the delicate art of healing on Aether’s fragile body.

“For now… bring me back to the hut. I’ll just have to try eating tiny amounts very slowly, and…” Aether’s shoulders lift a fraction. “Hope for the best.”

And Alatus hates that, then doesn’t understand why the idea is so repellant to him. But unless he uses his Vision for something he’s never even imagined trying before, there’s nothing else he can do.

Aether falls asleep soon after Alatus lays him down, ripples of a nightmare starting within minutes. To make matters worse, Alatus only manages to get the remaining skewers propped up on the flat rock and a few strips of meat smoking above the fire before he feels a sharp tug on his Heart, the Master commanding him to return.

Likely, Aether will wake afraid when he finds Alatus vanished again, but there’s nothing he can do. He leaves with an ache in his soul that has nothing to do with his karmic curse.

 

--

 

The Master gives Alatus a long, searching look when he appears in the palace, and Alatus can’t help the shudder that runs down his spine— but he is sent off to the battlefield without a single question asked. It’s not a reason to relax, really, but it at least allows Alatus to focus all his attention on his next fight.

And it is a fight this time, not a just massacre, against one of Rex Lapis’s adepti. She is indeed powerful, an earth-born adeptus who commands her steel with an ease Alatus could never hope to match. But blades are not their only weapons, and in a clash of elements, Alatus is far stronger.

In the end, as he stands over her fading corpse, choking down her silvery Heart, Alatus realizes that he had not bled a single time in the battle. His skin crawls. Is this how strong he’s become under the Master? Destroying with ease beings who’d had the power to level mountains?

“Return,” the Master commands him. “I must organize my next strike against Rex Lapis, and I have no need of you yet.”

It is one order Alatus is entirely willing to obey. He speeds away, losing himself to the rush of wind and shadow until he can plunge down into the streams of Nantianmen. It’s incredibly risky coming here when the Master is already suspicious of something, but thoughts of Aether are eating away at Alatus’s heart, and he cannot wait any longer.

He finds Aether curled into a tight ball beneath the shelter of his hut, his breaths audibly thin and rasping. The campfire is burned to ashes, but the meat Alatus had left last time is gone. Perhaps Aether had still had the strength to take and eat.

“Aether,” he calls quietly as he draws closer, and the mortal stirs.

“Ah... Mister Adeptus.” Aether’s voice is rough, as if each word is painful to speak. “I didn’t think… you would be back so soon.”

“Even I am not so heartless as to abandon you in such a state,” Alatus says after a moment of careful consideration. “Have you eaten any more?”

With a low sigh, Aether reaches for a small reed basket that rests beside his head. “Some. But I vomit most of it up again right after.” He dips his hand inside as he speaks, pulling out a few strips of the smoked meat. “This is all I have left.”

When Alatus crouches at his side, Aether turns his head slowly— too slowly— and blinks heavily up at him. His skin is grayed, and his radiant aura, though still full with proof of life, has dulled.

Aether had assured Alatus that he wouldn’t die from this, but if the alternative is to survive and suffer eternally in this way, Alatus wonders if death wouldn't be the kinder option.

But what can he do to fix this?

For wild moment he imagines simply picking the boy up and carrying him to Rex Lapis’s city of mortals, where there will surely be humans with the ability to care for Aether. If only the Master hadn’t strictly forbidden him from so much as approaching that harbor.

No other god or adeptus will help a being as dreaded as the herald of death either, so he is forced to dismiss that idea as well. His final option is to foolishly and dangerously attempt to heal Aether himself— and somehow, it seems the real possibility of the three.

Alatus takes a deep breath. “Anemo energy has the innate ability to heal. If you are willing, I can attempt to repair your body long enough for you to regain your strength naturally.”

“You’re… a healer?” Aether whispers.

Alatus bends his head low. “No. But for your sake, I will try.”

“Oh…”

Silence drags on for long enough that Alatus begins to wonder if Aether has somehow fallen asleep mid-thought, but at last, golden eyes open and turn toward him again.

“I guess you’d have to try pretty hard to leave me worse off than I am now,” Aether says with a faint smile. “Go ahead. Do what you need to do.”

The weight of Aether’s trust settles firmly over Alatus’s shoulders, sinking into his bones, but it is far from the aching burden of his karmic debt. Instead, it grounds him, ties him to the present and this still, peaceful moment entirely separate from the painful war Alatus fights everywhere else. He cannot let Aether down.

Digging through his oldest memories, Alatus recalls a day spent on the peaks of Jueyun Karst, watching as an adeptus of spring winds had spun and danced in the air, calling birds and butterflies to play at his side, free and joyful— at least until the Master had commanded Alatus to cut him down. But it is only the first part of the memory that Alatus needs, and he tries to replicate the fluttering wonder of a power never used for destruction as he presses a hand to Aether’s hollowed stomach.

His power sparks viridian. Sinking all his focus into the intricate workings of Aether’s body, Alatus feels his way through the sluggish pulse in Aether’s veins, the bruised and fading organs, and the paper fragility of his skin.

Most beings reject foreign energies forced upon them by others, even those of a healing nature, so Alatus expects to struggle past Aether’s natural defenses before he can change anything— but he’s caught off-guard when Aether’s body welcomes him instead, drinking in his power like cracked soil soaks up rain. Alatus barely has to do anything besides nudge the flow of healing toward the areas of greatest damage and make sure the clawed touch of his Vision, capable of obliterating gods in a single swipe, stays as light as a passing breeze.

Slowly, Aether’s body stitches itself back together, undoing the damage of starvation where Alatus had only expected to bolster his strength, and weaving the force of anemo into every tissue and vein. Such a thing should be impossible for anyone who does not carry the power of a Vision, but it seems to be just another way in which Aether is divided from the other beings of Teyvat.

Inexplicably, Alatus finds himself sinking deeper, searching out the inviting, colorful glow of Aether’s soul and being nudged along by the grateful warmth that echoes between them. Tiny, glittering constellations begin to flicker on the edges of his inner vision, vanishing when he tries to look at them straight on. Is the core of Aether’s power… composed of the stars?

Alatus reaches further and further, the stars dancing around him in little pinpricks of searing heat. The chains around his Heart, both that of the Master’s control and his karmic debt, begin to rattle and strain; and there is something here, a vast brightness that begins to cup soft hands around the insignificant speck of Alatus’s soul, and then—

It is a cruel yank on his Heart that abruptly forces him out.

Alatus stumbles as he pulls away, unable to meet Aether’s wide, stunned gaze. “The M— I must go. Your body is healed. Do not waste this chance.” And no, that’s not what he’d wanted to say, the words too damning, too cold for the relief that is now flooding Alatus’s body. He has never been good with words, though, so he has no time to correct himself before the Master’s command whisks him away.

 

--

 

On a battlefield of high cliffs and narrow valleys, Alatus emerges victorious once more. The adeptus of stone he had defeated, however, spins one last revenge as Alatus tears out his Heart.

The mountains groan and shift, the ground opens up, and as fading eyes flash a certain shade of gold, Alatus hesitates. For that hesitation, he falls. For that fall, his concentration slips. And now, he is trapped by stone and final sacrifice in a darkness so thick that even his keen vision cannot pierce through it.

He’d always thought stories of the absolute pitch of adepti’s underground prisons were an exaggeration. He knows better, now.

 

--

 

Stone crumbles and Alatus screams as the blaze of daylight reaches his clouded eyes and burns over his ghost-pale skin. How long had he been rotting in that place?

“Get up,” the Master commands— and Alatus does.

--

He visits the valley at night again, stumbling blindly toward Aether’s camp as still-fresh ichor from his last fight trickles down his face. The sharp, haunting lilt of a wooden flute rings through the air, and Alatus follows the sound as surely as a winter tern’s flight south.

“Aether,” he croaks, and isn’t it strange how all his visits start by calling the mortal’s name?

The flute stops and Alatus hears a gasp— then his arms are being held in the grip of slender hands, and the scent of sun-warmed earth that always seems to follow Aether around fills his nose.

“Mister Adeptus, it’s been so long— oh. Your eyes—”

More liquid is trickling down Alatus’s cheeks and chin, and he does not understand its source, only knows that it makes Aether’s hands come up to his face, pressing the pads of his thumbs into Alatus’s skin and wiping the offending drops away with an achingly gentle touch.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Aether’s voice sounds oddly choked, and Alatus cannot think of a single thing he could be apologizing for this time. “Come, sit with me for a little while.”

And Alatus places a hand on Aether’s shoulder— still far too emaciated for comfort, but at least Alatus’s attempt at healing seems to have held— and allows himself to be guided until Aether carefully settles him on what must be the large rock nearby. He sits stiffly, unwilling to relax for even a moment while his most valuable sense is still missing, but Aether seems unbothered by either Alatus’s vigilance or his bare minimum of compliance.

The trill of the flute picks up again, and Alatus loses himself to the wandering melody and the faint, whispery huffs of Aether’s in-between breaths. Something deep in his shattered soul calms, just a fraction, and Alatus no longer feels as if he is a thread ready to snap at any moment.

He dares not stay long, though, and Aether makes a questioning noise when he suddenly stands.

“Mister Adeptus?”

Alatus needs— something. More. He doesn’t know what, but whatever it is, it’s digging a pit of desire into his Heart, and that’s something Alatus cannot allow. Instinctively, he reaches out, and with all his other senses so focused upon the shining spot that is Aether, it’s easy to guide his fingertips up to Aether’s cheek, then drag along the hunger-prominent bone and into the feathering of his hair.

 

…What is he doing?

Everything is falling apart— his mind, his Heart, his carefully bound self-control, and the time he spends with the mortal he can no longer deny he cares for. He needs to distance himself before this human’s soul engraves itself on Alatus’s Heart, but unlike the first time, he cannot fail. Surely, just accepting Aether’s offerings will be enough to satisfy his foolish longing to return?

With the next mournfully whistling breeze that slips over the valley floor, Alatus is gone.

Notes:

Oh, and I have a dead tumblr if you're feeling especially bored.

Chapter 4: Wanderer's Home

Notes:

I wrote and planned a bunch of this fic before playing the Azhdaha story quest, so just add any inaccuracies abt that to the list of things I'm AU-ing lol

The adeptus flees as if starfire itself is burning in his wake, and Aether is left alone once more, a hand half-outstretched into the darkness and his cheek still tingling with the memory of the adeptus’s touch.

Heavily, Aether drops his arm and lowers his rough-carved flute to his side. It always ends up like this; the adeptus disappearing without warning and without any indication as to when he might return. And Aether would be more resentful about it if it weren’t for the concern that builds with every new visit.

The adeptus has always been flighty, of course— never even giving his name— but beyond that, he’s wary to the point of skittishness, almost as if he’s waiting for something to go wrong at any moment. The state of his body, too, does nothing to soothe Aether’s worries. From scars and blood, to deadly burns, to the sudden appearance of horns and diseased veins, to his months-long disappearance followed by clouded, blind eyes, it is clear that whatever happens when the adeptus is gone, it is torture at best.

Yet, despite everything the adeptus must be enduring, he still visits Aether and accepts his offerings, occasionally brings him food, and, apparently, has even learned how to heal for his sake. Aether doesn’t understand all the divisions of gods and powers in this world, but he can still tell that the adeptus is strong; strong enough that Aether, stripped of his wings and power as he is, should be too far beneath him to bother with.

But he does bother, and no matter how frustrating his unpredictable visits are, Aether is at least grateful for that.

Without Lumine by his side, it’s lonelier out here than Aether could have ever imagined.

--

In the morning, he sets off down the riverbank like always, in search of anything that might be edible or otherwise practical for his continued survival. Not that Aether can die, exactly, though having his powers ripped out like this has made him wonder. But being pinned to the ground by his own shriveled body and fading until pain consumes his every thought might as well be death, so Aether will continue to think of his efforts as essential for life.

A gloomy aura has lingered over this valley since Aether arrived, and the signs of ruined civilization and overturned earth don’t make it hard to guess at why. Unfortunately, he suspects that same aura is the reason there is so little food to be found down here, but there’s not much he can do about that. With his strength permanently sapped and only the adeptus’s lingering energy buzzing in his veins to keep him going, wandering too far or constantly setting up new camps as he travels is out of the question.

A mud frog leaps from the silt as Aether approaches, but he doesn’t even bother trying to catch it. If he had the speed of his original reflexes, maybe, but now it will cost him too much energy in the almost-certain event that he fails.

He keeps going.

An eagle screeches as it circles far overhead, barely more than a speck in the sky; and Aether is a decent shot, but obviously, without a bow there’s nothing he can do. A flock of sparrows launch themselves from a crevice in the cliffside, far out of Aether’s reach. Clusters of red fruit dot the ledges of the valley, but Aether doesn’t have the strength to climb for them.

Searching for food here is exhausting in more ways than one.

Aether’s progress down the valley is slow, and the sun climbs mercilessly into the sky, heat searing across his exposed back and neck and over his already-sunburned skin. After his shirt had finally worn down to little more than holes and ribbons, he’d attempted to stitch a crude sort of cape out of leaves, but none of the plants nearby had proved sturdy enough to hold for more than a day. At this rate though, it might be worth simply tying a string of bush clippings together and hanging them like a shawl around his neck; anything to protect his body from the unforgiving rays of the sun.

In his hands, the lotus-stem net he’d woven some days earlier weighs down his steps, and Aether wonders why he keeps bringing it with him when the river never seems to grow deep enough for fish in either direction. A desperate fool’s hope, he supposes.

Soon he reaches a small and unusually gnarled tree that marks the farthest he’s ever down this end of the valley. The space between cliffs only narrows further from here as the stream thins to a bare trickle, so Aether had never bothered searching further before. Clearly, there’s no food available to him on the way back to his camp though, so maybe it’s worth carrying on just a little more despite his quickly depleting stamina.

Each of Aether’s steps lands with a little splish splash in the shallow water, a pleasant sound that he’s pretty sure he’ll never get tired of hearing. The noise keeps him company all the way up until the cliffs draw so close that Aether could reach out and touch stone on either side, and then—

The valley walls abruptly curve outward again, and Aether gasps as his eyes land on a forest of dizzyingly tall rock spires, grassy riverbanks, and, most importantly, a sparklingly clear lake of deep blue water that stretches on farther than his eyes can see.

Aether doesn’t run, exactly, but he certainly doesn’t limit himself to the measured, energy-conserving walk he’d used for most of the journey here. Stumbling to a halt at the edge of the water, Aether peers down to see the lake absolutely teeming with fish; their silvery scales glinting constantly in the sunlight. There’s enough of them that he might not even need bait.

Carefully untangling the net in his hands, Aether pinches the edges together and throws, sighing in relief when it lands full and open. From there, it’s easy enough to heave on the connecting strings still looped around his fingers and drag the net back towards him.

When he lifts it from the water, three sizable fish are flip-flopping about in the knotted stems, and it had taken Aether barely any effort at all to catch them.

It’s sort of a shock, really, and he almost falls to his knees right there in the mud. With shaking fingers, he tosses one of the fish back into the lake— he won’t be able to eat or preserve more than two of this size anyway— and ties the edges of the net up tight to secure his remaining catch. It’s a long walk from his camp to this part of the valley, but with enough food to restore his strength, the trip should become easier every time he makes it.

He won’t have to rely on the adeptus for food anymore either, Aether realizes with equal parts relief and surprising disappointment. Relief because only getting enough to eat once every two or three months isn’t really sustainable, of course, but disappointment because their exchanges of Aether’s attempted crafts for the adeptus’s gifts of food has formed a sort of… camaraderie between them. Or at least, Aether thinks so.

Oh well. Maybe it’s for the best that Aether doesn’t get too attached, because the moment he can find Lumine again, he’ll be gone from this world anyway.

--

That night, his stomach full and not in seizing agony for the first time in months, and the delightful smell of sizzling fish still drifting through the air, Aether bundles up a bouquet of colorful dried wildflowers and sets it on his little rock-pile altar. It’s probably his most pitiful offering yet, but even so, he imbues it with his hope the adeptus is alright, and that he will return soon to take it.

Aether’s dreams are filled with luminescent eyes, crawling veins, and as always, Lumine’s echoing voice screaming his name as he falls into darkness.

--

The adeptus doesn’t come.

Aether eats his fill of fish then goes back for more, always careful never to take more than he knows he can eat in a day or two. If the lake is to be his only source of easily accessible food, then he has to preserve it. Scavenging over the lush, green fields around the lake reveals a number of small berries and interesting herbs, and these Aether sometimes takes back with him to cook alongside the fish.

How quickly he’s gone from near-total starvation to worrying about how his food tastes. He hopes the adeptus is proud of him.

Still, the bouquet remains untouched on the altar for days, then weeks, then months. Quiet loneliness presses down over Aether’s shoulders as he eats and explores and works with nothing but his own thoughts for company. Lumine would be talking to herself by now, her way of fighting back the stillness of isolation, but trying that in the past has only ever made Aether even more aware of his solitude, so he doesn’t bother.

Slowly, his body fills out again— still not enough to fit his long-unused armor, but it’s a start. His muscles restore some of their original shape, skin strengthening with healthy color, and bruises no longer blooming over his arms and legs and sides every time he bumps into something just a little too hard.

Walking to the lake no longer leaves him breathless and exhausted, so Aether begins to expand his scope of the area. Down the valley and away from the lake, he finds a stunning, towering tree whose branches and leaves are half normal and half a shimmering blue that swirls with light just beneath the surface. But the tree is also where the dark, suffocating aura of the valley is strongest and whispers of get away, get away, before it’s too late itch over his skin, so Aether doesn’t stick around for long.

For the first time, Aether truly wonders what happened in this valley, beyond his surface understanding of a fallen civilization and some great tragedy. What is this place called? Who had lived here before? What is the meaning of the tree at the center of the darkness? Why is everything now so thoroughly destroyed?

It’s strange to be so curious after his and Lumine’s endless years of only dipping their toes into each world before taking off again, after watching a universe burn to ashes under their touch and agreeing never to involve themselves in any world’s fate ever again.

How ironic then, that of all the worlds to get attached to, this might be the only one in which Aether has no way of getting answers to his questions.

--

The adeptus still doesn’t come.

But Aether has gotten into the habit of checking the altar every morning right after he wakes, no matter how fruitless the endeavor; and today, under the first light of dawn creeping over the walls of the valley, he can see that the flowers are gone.

It could’ve just been wild animal happening by or the odd gust of wind come to snatch the offering away— and in fact, it’s probably one of those two. Still, Aether hopes.

By nightfall, he’s braided an intricate loop of lotus stems and dyed it red with the juices of the spicy fruits from the cliffsides. Whether or not the divines of this world can hear prayers the way they do in others, Aether doesn’t know, but he infuses his offering with a fresh plea anyway.

Please be safe. I miss you.

--

A few days later, Aether meets his very first monster in this world, an icy blob with a shell of wicked spikes that trails cold steam as it chases Aether nearly halfway back to his camp. It seems strange that he hasn’t run into a creature like this sooner— though perhaps monsters of that sort are actually rare in this world?

Regardless, Aether is glad it had waited until he at least had enough strength to run before making its appearance. Maybe it’s time to begin thinking about crafting a weapon. Just in case.

Later, as he scrapes a mostly straight segment of branch into a sharp point, he can’t help another glance at the dulled red weave of his latest offering, still resting atop the altar. With a sigh, he turns away.

--

Aether is halfway through his latest days-long project— a tightly woven mat of vines he intends to use as a meager replacement for his worn pants— when his last offering disappears as well. Only this time, it’s replaced by a pair of slightly bruised, teardrop-shaped fruits that spill sticky juices over Aether’s hands when he bites into one.

The taste is almost as sweet as his relief that the adeptus still lives, still cares about Aether— even if he won’t show his face.

Pausing his work on the mat for a few hours won’t matter too much in the long run, right? So Aether takes his time carefully smoking a cut of fish belly, crusting it with his favorite herbs and enfolding it in a waxy leaf pouch. He can only hope the adeptus likes to eat.

Why won’t you visit me? I hope you’re alright.

--

Aether’s latest offering sits through one night on the altar then vanishes the next. In its place is a short steel knife, the leather grip concerningly stained with old blood. Still, a sharp blade— or metal of any kind, really— is invaluable down in this valley, so Aether does his best to wash it in the stream before promptly putting it to work.

Gutting fish, splitting lotus stems and vines, and sharpening the points of sticks are a hundred times easier with a sturdy knife, and Aether pours all his thanks into his next offering: a small bird carved from an intriguingly marbled hunk of wood.

That night, Aether roughly trims his over-long bangs, watching the cut strands drift off down the stream and trying to convince himself that he isn’t desperately hoping the adeptus returns with this next offering.

You’re really thinking about me, aren’t you? Please, come back safe.

--

Bit by bit, the weather grows rainier, the air cooling enough to leave Aether shivering every night in his makeshift bed. It was like this for a little while when he first arrived, if he recalls correctly, and he wonders if these cycles of warm and dry to cold and wet are what pass for seasons in this world.

Aether makes new offerings almost every day now, and the adeptus comes by to accept them with nearly the same frequency, though Aether never manages to catch so much as a glimpse of him.

Fresh fruits and vegetables, a strange, perfectly round stone that glows with orange heat, a stained gray sheet that Aether immediately cuts and wraps into a makeshift robe, slightly scorched wooden boxes with lids, a coil of rope, pieces of heavily-salted meat— everything the adeptus leaves in exchange is practical, tailored to whatever Aether had needed at the time. Not for the first time, Aether wonders if it’s alright for him to keep offering the petty handcrafts and leftover scraps of food that he does.

Obviously, the adeptus is watching him enough to give reactive gifts as Aether faces the troubles of day-to-day survival. But if the adeptus is paying such close attention, why hasn’t he actually come to see Aether in person? The fact that he continues to accept Aether’s offerings and leave things in return seems to indicate that he’s not angry with or tired of Aether, at least.

Maybe there’s some danger to his visits that Aether just has no way of knowing about. Whatever the reason, there’s nothing he can do but infuse his hopes for the adeptus’s return into his offerings and carry on.

--

On the way back from one of his trips to the lake, Aether spots a slender and mostly intact segment of bamboo washed up against the riverbank. Finding materials still in good condition this far down what Aether assumes is a very long river is rare, so he goes to pick it up, turning it over in his hands. It’s a bit too small and fragile to be a supporting branch for his latest attempt at a lean-to, but if he can burn out the middle without damaging it, it might make a nice flute. He takes it back.

Aether ends up working on the potential flute all the way till his usual dinnertime, sawing off the splintered ends of bamboo and burning tiny holes along its length with utmost precision. Then, of course, the wood needs time to cool and the acrid smoke needs time to dissipate, so Aether sets the project aside while he eats. Already, it looks a lot better than his last crude attempt to carve an instrument.

Sounds better too, when he makes a few experimental puffs over the mouthpiece. It’s still not perfect, but at least this flute could probably be played in polite company, and it’s definitely the most useful of his creations so far. He’ll give it to the adeptus as his next offering.

The next day, Aether takes the time to twist a fine strand of grass fibers, weave in a few tiny fragments of scavenged crystal, and search out a red clay-stained adder stone from the riverbed to hang on the end of the string. It looks incredibly plain even when all tied together, but it’s the best Aether can do with what he has.

With some effort, he scratches a simplistic lotus flower into the wood beside the mouthpiece and lays the finished flute on his altar.

I know it wasn’t for long, but you liked my music last time, right? Come visit me again, and we can play together.

Notes:

<3

Chapter 5: Nocturne

Notes:

Man i hope this is coherent

When Aether suddenly finds himself blinking open heavy eyelids in the middle of the night, it takes him far too long figure out what has woken him.

The trill of a bamboo flute is echoing faintly up and down the walls of the valley, a haunting, mournful sound that has Aether shaking off any lingering exhaustion and leaping to his feet in a moment. The adeptus.

The altar is empty, of course it is, and Aether frantically turns in place, trying to pinpoint the source of the song. Or rather, the source of the lament, because there’s no mistaking the grief and longing that weave themselves through every note.

There’s no use searching like this, Aether realizes after a moment— the adeptus has long since proved that if he truly doesn’t want to be seen, Aether will never find him. So instead, Aether rushes to his basket of collected trinkets and toys, rooting through the junk until his fingers close on the rough wood of his first flute.

He puts it to his lips, takes a deep breath— and plays. His pitched and whistling melody is nothing compared to the adeptus’s soaring lilt, but it doesn’t matter, really, not when they’re finally, finally communicating again after so long.

Aether pours his heart into the song, playing until his fingers begin to cramp and his throat is scratchy and dry. The adeptus never pauses either, and their twining hope and sorrow harmonizes and fills the night air to bursting.

At last, the adeptus plays one final note that trails away into weighted silence, and Aether lowers his instrument as well, breathing harder than he really should be. Straining into the darkness, Aether hopes beyond hope that the adeptus will finally reappear, searching desperately for any sign of cat-bright eyes glowing in the shadows— but there’s nothing, and after an agonizing minute of waiting, he slumps back down to the rock and pulls his knees up to his chest.

Strangely, their fleeting moments of connection have only made the lonely hollow in Aether’s chest gape wider, and he touches a hand to his sternum as if it will make the ache go away. Why won’t the adeptus return to him?

--

Of course nightly dirges, together, and yet so far apart, become a part of their routine. And because Aether never could keep himself away from things that will only hurt more, he always joins in, his own song growing more and more plaintive as time goes on.

Still, he keeps leaving offerings, keeps accepting what the adeptus gives him in return. Beautiful flowers now accompany every practical gift, a different one each time, and Aether begins to collect and dry them for storage. A blue and white lily with large, flat petals and trailing sepals; a cluster of small, creamy petals on a single stem; a bunched-up flower that’s pink through and through and carries a scent that reminds Aether of a warm summer’s night; a string of dangling purple bellflowers fragile enough to crush under one mistaken touch— every one of them somehow speaks of secret meanings and unbreakable promises that Aether simply doesn’t have the knowledge to understand.

He saves them anyway though, lining them up reverently in one of wooden boxes the adeptus had given him and keeping them close to his bed. It’s silly, but the tangible reminder that the adeptus is thinking of his happiness as well as his survival… well, it mutes the loneliness just long enough for Aether to drift off to sleep each night.

--

Though Aether still longs to see the adeptus in person again, he’s at least gotten so used to their regular shared offerings and nights filled with haunting music that it’s a shock when both once again cut off with no warning.

Aether’s latest offering of dried fruit sits on the altar until it rots, and he tosses and turns when he tries to sleep, unable to rest after so many days in a row without the bittersweet comfort of the adeptus’s song. He spends a lot of time just staring into his box of flowers now, running his fingers over the soft petals and trying to convince himself that there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe the adeptus is just busy, or taking some time to rest. He owes Aether nothing, after all, and it’s not as if Aether will die for the lack of his presence.

All he has to do is wait for a little while longer.

--

It rains again, and Aether stands in the chilly downpour until his nose runs and he’s forced to duck back into his shelter for fear of getting truly sick again. It’s not exactly an experience he’s inclined to repeat.

The adeptus doesn’t come.

--

Slowly, the steel knife wears down until it can’t even cut through a fish’s underbelly, and Aether has yet to find a stone suitable for sharpening it again. He returns to tearing things apart with his fingers and doing his best with the blade from there.

It’s probably too much to hope that the adeptus will bring him a new one, right?

--

Sometimes, when the darkness and silence of night grow too oppressive for Aether to bear, he brings out his wooden flute and tries to recreate fragments of the nocturnes he’d shared with the adeptus. They never come out quite right on his own though, and when he’s done, he feels more like a gaping void with skin than a human being. Other times, he tries to search for Lumine, but no matter how far and how often he stretches out his senses, he can’t find so much as a trace of her silvery presence anywhere.

Gods, he’s so lonely.

--

The river swells unusually high one night, and Aether is forced to move his things to a raised cliff ledge and sleep awkwardly perched in a tree for fear of being swept away. When he returns to the hut in the morning, there’s new layer of oozing silt on the ground and everything is vaguely damp and slimy.

For a single, fleeting second, Aether contemplates just… never cleaning it up. He could lay his head in the muck, leave his possessions on top of the debris-covered rock, let the moss and algae creep over the pillars and roof of his hut. There’d be no one around to see, after all.

He shakes himself out of it the next moment and sets about scooping the mud out of his camp and back into the river— but the hollow thought of it remains.

--

It seems appropriate that a wild storm is raging the night it all comes to a climax.

Aether is just curling up for another miserable night of trying and failing to sleep, when an unannounced spike of dread sinks into the pit of his stomach.

He pushes himself to sitting, peering hopelessly out into the thick curtain of rain as he gropes for one of his wooden spears. It probably won’t be much help in the event of a real monster attack, but Aether’s hardly about to go down with a fight.

There’s a sort of pitched screaming in the air, so blended with the howling of the storm that Aether might just be hearing things. Still, he gets to his feet, stumbling when the pooling dread in his gut rises, clogging up his throat, and making his heartbeat thunder in his ears. What’s out there?

A glitter of wind and shift of shadows is all the warning Aether gets before another body crashes into him, dropping like a stone until Aether can catch beneath their arms and hold them up.

“No more, please, no more,” the adeptus sobs, his voice wrecked. Sharp-clawed hands scrabble at Aether’s back, curved horns press against his collarbone and prick at his throat, and a long, tangled mane of hair whips in stinging lashes over his arms and hands.

This is the worst of Aether’s imaginings for their reunion, but that doesn’t stop him from holding the adeptus tight and pulling him beneath the meager cover of the stone hut. It’s far too dark to make out any of the adeptus’s features right now, but Aether doesn’t need light to feel the way raised, spidery lines on the adeptus’s exposed hands and neck burn like acid into Aether’s skin; or the way a patch of warmth soaks through Aether’s clothes as the adeptus cries soundlessly into his chest.

“Shh, you’re going to be okay. I’ll take care of you,” Aether whispers into damp hair, ignoring his own pain as he strokes up and down the adeptus’s back. He’s fully attached now, Aether realizes with some resignation. Thousands of years without breaking his and Lumine’s one rule, and now he would do just about anything for the adeptus after only a handful of visits and one or two years of knowing him.

The floor is soggy and uncomfortable, but it’s not as if either of them can be drenched any further, and sitting will probably be easier than trying to hold the adeptus up while half-crouched under the low stone roof. Even with Aether’s mostly restored strength, though, he still misjudges his ability to hold steady while lowering their combined weight, and they hit the ground with a painful, muddy splash.

With a sigh, Aether scoots back until he can rest against one of the support columns, then draws the adeptus in until he’s practically curled up on Aether’s lap.

They stay like that for a long, long time, until the sound of the rain no longer drowns out even Aether’s own thoughts and the spaces between each rumble of thunder lengthen enough for him to know the storm is finally moving on. The adeptus stirs, hands clenched in the fabric of Aether’s shoddy robe as he slowly lifts his head.

“…Aether?” He rasps.

“Hello, Mister Adeptus.” Aether offers him a small smile in the darkness and switches to combing out the rough tangles of his hair. “It’s been a while.”

“You… you don’t hate me.” The adeptus sounds confused and scared, and Aether can feel the shaking of his limbs.

“I don’t think I could even if I tried,” he responds softly.

Apparently the adeptus doesn’t know what to do with that, and they lapse back into a heavy silence.

--

“What are you?” The adeptus asks when the rain thins to a steady drizzle and the wind no longer sends icy sprays into the gap beneath the roof.

Aether smiles sadly to himself as he recites their familiar mantra. “A traveler. An immortal wanderer of worlds who has no home. A keeper of fragmented history.” He pauses. “And a fool who’s gotten attached to this world and you.”

“To me,” the adeptus echoes blankly, and without light to see by, Aether can’t tell when he might be thinking. “Your dreams were not of Teyvat. Is this why?”

Teyvat. Aether savors the name of this world over his tongue. “Probably, though I had no idea my dreams indicated my origins at all.”

“Your dream threads led into everywhere and nowhere,” the adeptus says slowly. “But I did not think on them further.”

Aether hums in acknowledgement, and once again silence overtakes them, far more comfortable this time.

--

The drizzle fades to damp and the wind lulls to a breeze, and Aether can finally hear the thin, chattering trickle of the nearby stream again.

“I’ve killed more mortals and gods than you could possibly imagine,” the adeptus whispers into Aether’s shoulder. “I’ve burned their cities and devoured their dreams and Hearts. The burden of their needless deaths is a curse I will never be rid of.”

And Aether chooses his words carefully. “I’m not surprised.” The adeptus stiffens against him and he gentles his touch even further. “I’ve seen your injuries, and the veins under your skin, and the bloodstains on some of your gifts to me. But I also see that you are made of more than the destruction you describe, and after a travelling through a thousand worlds’ worth of true innocence and guilt, I can safely say that you’re a lot closer to the light than you seem to think.”

“…Then you truly are a fool,” the adeptus says. But he doesn’t argue any further, and the night drags on.

--

Clouds begin to clear from the new-moon sky, and the faintest glow of starlight filters down into the valley.

The adeptus shifts from Aether’s lap to lean hesitantly against his side instead. It’s no longer a good angle to stroke through the adeptus’s hair, so Aether settles for laying a single hand on his armored thigh, where the corrosive touch of his skin can no longer be felt.

“My will is not my own.” The adeptus’s voice is muffled, distant. “From nearly the day I was formed, my Heart has been in the hands of another, and I cannot refuse anything they command of me. They would certainly order me to kill you if they knew of our time together.”

“And nothing this person threatens us with can make me abandon you now,” Aether counters. “Being an immortal with only one weakness sometimes makes me reckless, but it also means that there is very little in this world or beyond it that could scare me away. I’ve started to care for you more than I probably should— but I don’t regret it either.”

“You might,” the adeptus says, almost a dare.

“Never.” Aether gives his thigh a quick squeeze, feeling the ridges of leather and metal beneath numb fingers. “And I’ll make you a promise for it.”

After a bit of fumbling in the dark, his hand finally lands on the box of flowers and he flips open the lid. He’s spent enough time staring at the box’s contents over the past months, committing each detail to memory, and he no longer needs his sight to deftly withdraw the cluster of small white blossoms. “Here.” He presses the flower into the adeptus’s hands. “You gave this to me as a sign that you were thinking of me, and now I’ll give it back as a symbol of my care for you. No regrets.”

He folds his hands around the adeptus’s, pushing through the acid burn of skin on skin until the adeptus finally takes the blossoms and tucks them away somewhere in the bulk of his armor.

“…Do you understand what these flowers are? What they mean?”

Aether shakes his head. “Not at all. But they feel right anyway.”

“I suppose they do,” the adeptus says after a moment. “Very well, then. No regrets.”

--

The sky shifts from midnight black to the deep gray of approaching dawn.

“I can’t stay with you all the time,” the adeptus says, and Aether stares into bright honey eyes he can finally see. “And likely, I will be gone more often than not. Teyvat is at war, and I am the Master’s weapon. Our exchange of offerings is the only thing I can promise to maintain at all.”

That hurts, but it’s not exactly unexpected either. Aether bows his head. “I understand. But can I keep praying that you’ll visit again?”

“Please, do.” The adeptus’s gaze is quietly earnest. “Your gifts... their power is the only thing left holding my Heart together.”

He doesn’t elaborate on how Aether’s offerings have such a power, but Aether can guess well enough. Tentatively, he leans his head against the adeptus’s shoulder, and when he isn’t pushed away, rests the entirety of its weight there as he tries to suppress a yawn.

The long night is almost over, and Aether is tired. He hopes he gets to rest soon.

--

The lingering clouds overhead bloom purple, then streak with pink and orange and yellow. Soon, the sun will be visible over the cliffs, with warmth and light to chase away the damp chill of the storm.

Aether lifts his head, and he can see everything now— the crawling black veins over every inch of the adeptus’s exposed skin, the ragged and bloodstained rips in his armor, the way threads of jade glimmer in his hair, only visible under rays of full light. The faint smile that graces his lips.

“I am the adeptus Alatus, and I will hear you from wherever you call. Most of my time is spent under the command of the Master or locked in the heat of battle, so I will trust your judgement to only summon me in case of your direst need. Aether,” —and here he hesitates, just for a moment— “will you speak my name?”

And Aether grins, huge and relieved as patches of sunlight begin to slide in around the edges of the roof’s shadow, warming his back and hair. “Alatus,” he says, the syllables spilling eagerly from his lips. “Stay with me?”

“For as long as I am able,” Alatus replies, and even his slit, cat-like pupils are soft. “Sleep, Aether. I will watch over you.”

Notes:

<3

Chapter 6: Take My Hand, We'll Make It Through

Notes:

Literally what am i even doing rn

When Aether opens his eyes next, it’s to find himself splayed out in a dry, sunny patch of grass, cool breezes playing over his skin. How had he ended up out here? He looks up.

Alatus is sitting beside him, knees pulled up toward his chest and his head resting on his arms. The green gem embedded in his gauntlet flickers with the movement of the winds.

“Alatus?” Aether says, still sleepy, and Alatus meets his gaze with a tiny smile.

“Have you rested enough?”

“Mm.” Aether pushes himself up on one arm and rubs at his eyes with the other. “If I sleep too long now, I won’t be able to tonight.”

“I see,” Alatus says with a slow and somehow incredibly endearing blink. “Adepti may doze, but never truly sleep, so I am unfamiliar with human patterns of rest.”

“Really? You never sleep?” Aether asks, tilting his head. No matter how powerful, it is exceedingly rare for immortals of any world to go with no sleep at all.

Alatus shakes his head. “We have no need of it, and the war is too close and unpredictable to risk such inattention.”

Even if the adepti really don’t need sleep, being unable to safely lay their heads down for so much as moment seems like a terrible way to live. Unfortunately, it’s not Aether’s place to make such uninformed judgement, so he only nods.

Casting about for a safe change of subject, Aether’s gaze lands again on the glowing jewel at Alatus’s wrist. “If you don’t mind me asking— what is this?” He gestures as it flashes again.

Alatus lifts his arm and stares down at it for a long moment. “I suppose if you are not from Teyvat, you would have no way of knowing. This is a Vision.” He gives the gem a quick tug and the whole thing, gilt frame and all, detaches from its socket. Aether catches it with startled hands when Alatus passes it over. Beneath his fingers, it buzzes with an energy he can almost taste— an energy he’s been sorely, dangerously missing since the unknown god tore his powers from his body.

Even if he wanted to steal from Alatus’s “Vision,” though, the flow of the energy remains just below the surface, safely out of his reach.

“Visions are tools granted by Celestia that allow beings not directly born of the Ley to channel elemental power. There are a few different types, but I carry an anemo Vision.”

Alatus has power over the wind, Aether deduces, and he turns the gem over in his hands. “It doesn’t… I don’t know… hurt you to be apart from it like this, right?”

Alatus shakes his head, strands dark hair slipping over his face. “It is only another tool, though my grasp of anemo would be far weaker without it. And as I understand it, humans would be rendered unable to use the associated element at all.” He pauses then, brows pinching in. “The only real danger comes if the Vision is somehow destroyed. Humans will go mad and eventually die, while adepti fall and become demons.”

The words are spoken the shuddering finality of someone who can’t imagine a worse fate, and Aether shivers despite himself.

“Are Visions… easy to destroy?” He ventures.

“No. Only an Archon’s power is enough to shatter a blessing from Celestia.” Alatus’s eyes turn a little distant. “Before, there were more rulers and Archons, and therefore more lost Visions. But now…”

He doesn’t elaborate further, so Aether is left to assume that these Archons are somehow dying off, or else deciding that breaking Visions and driving people to madness or death really isn’t the greatest idea. Either way, it doesn’t exactly sound like a bad thing.

Carefully, he passes the Vision back to Alatus, a light breeze stirring around them once again the moment it changes hands. “How much longer will you stay?” He asks, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

“I had only planned to stay until the moment you awoke.” Alatus’s expression tightens as his voice drops. “But I have no desire to return to the Master’s side, so until he calls… I will remain with you.”

“Is that alright? I don’t want you to risk yourself for me.”

“The Master pays little attention to where I go or what I do as long as I am there when he commands,” Alatus says dismissively. “Now, was there anything else you wanted to know?”

--

Attentively, Aether listens as Alatus explains the origins of the current Archon War, lists the successive defeats of great dragons and gods and monsters by one Rex Lapis, and, at Aether’s request, briefly describes the different regions and elements of Teyvat.

All living beings are sustained by ley lines that weave through the heart of the earth, Alatus tells him, but only some are directly formed from its power. Alatus is apparently one of those born from a secondary source, though he doesn’t explain exactly what that means.

Aether is just building up the courage to ask Alatus what caused the crawling, acid veins under his skin, when Alatus chokes off mid-sentence and leaps to his feet.

His voice is strained when he next speaks. “Aether, I’m sorry, the Master is—”

Aether stands too, and gently brushes his fingers over the metal of Alatus’s gauntlet. “I understand. Go.”

And between one blink and the next, Alatus is gone.

Aimlessly, Aether wanders back to his hut, already missing the cool breezes of Alatus’s powers. There’s still plenty of work that needs to be done— fish to clean and cook, mud to scrub away, his robe to wash— but Aether can’t quite bring himself to do any of it. So instead, he spends the last hours of daylight wandering the valley floor and picking up whatever tidbits he can find; and, after darkness falls, goes back to build a fresh campfire and force himself to eat. He stares into the shifting, flickering light there until exhaustion finally overtakes him and he falls asleep.

--

Days pass. The seasons shift again, rains giving way to hours of screaming insects and dry heat and plentiful fruits.

Aether continues to make offerings, even if all he can manage some days is a simple vine flower or one of the sparkling, perfectly round stones that occasionally wash down the stream. Alatus, too, comes by as often as he can to accept the offerings and leave things in return.

There are no more nights of distant music and longing— instead, Alatus comes directly to Aether, often streaked with blood and always in pain, and they sit back-to-back on the large rock to play their flutes together.

Sometimes, Alatus whispers of the tortures his master inflicts on him— the dark, closed confinement, the senseless beatings, the months of constant fighting and devouring of dreams that had kept him away from the valley for so long. It makes Aether sick to his stomach, but he always listens; he has to. Other times, they don’t talk at all, on the days when misery hangs over Alatus like a shroud and even a single word could shatter the fragile peace between them.

--

The seasons change.

Aether shores his possessions up against the near-constant wet and works on an emergency camp near the cliff wall for when the river inevitably swells and floods the valley.

“Alatus.” He says it as often as he can when they’re together, and Alatus will whisper his name in return. The words are nothing, are everything, and the moments they spend in each other’s company are a blessing as delicate as a dove’s wings.

The sclerae of Alatus’s eyes are as dark as his veins now, and on his rare visits when the sun is still up, he clings to the shadows as if the light burns him. It’s impossible for Aether to touch him anymore, not when skin contact leaves blistering red welts over Aether’s hands and arms. They make do with touches placed carefully over clothes and armor, but Aether still feels the lack.

--

As Aether returns one day from his latest trip to the lake, a violent earthquake shakes the ground without warning and sends boulders tumbling down from the cliffs. He makes it back to his camp with little more than pebble-shaped bruises, but though he waits anxiously, Alatus doesn’t appear that night. Nor the next. Or the next.

When he finally does return, he is a mess of blood and terrible arrow wounds, and strange, unmelting frost crackles over his skin. There’s nothing Aether can do to help.

“Rex Lapis… contracted a new half-adeptus,” Alatus gasps as he lies trembling beside Aether’s tiny campfire. “She set… a trap for me. I wish it had… worked.”

And Aether covers him with a blanket and keeps his hands to himself for fear of hurting Alatus further, crying and whispering pointless reassurances as silent (always silent) tears drip from Alatus’s unblinking eyes.

Alatus heals and leaves and doesn’t come back for a long time.

--

While sorting through his things one rare sunny day, Aether opens up his box of flowers and realizes there’s a single white petal fallen from the blossoms he’d given back to Alatus. Oh well. It will be a good memory for him anyway, a lingering reminder of his promise.

He tucks it back in the box and moves on.

--

Slowly, the rains end and the sun makes regular appearances once more. Aether has a camp right next to the lake now, too, and he takes to sleeping there on the nights he’s sure Alatus won’t visit. The extra time not spent traveling to-and-fro is used to explore around the towering spires of rock and overgrown footpaths that trail over the land. There are so many signs of civilization scattered through the valley, but not a single being, human or otherwise, to account for the remains.

A sword is left on the altar one night, clean and shiny and new, and Aether picks it up, feeling for its balance and watching the edges glint in the full moonlight. A piece of jade dangles from the pommel and the hilt is intricately carved.

Though he has yet to see monsters other than elemental blobs of ice and stone, and hasn’t fought anything stronger than a fish, a sword is still an extremely useful gift, and one had that clearly meant a lot to Alatus, too. It’s nowhere near weighted for Aether’s grip, the blade too wide and the tassel a distraction he normally wouldn’t keep, but he’ll treasure it all the same.

He wonders where Alatus had gotten it.

--

Aether is engrossed in pounding some scavenged berries into jam when Alatus visits again, appearing directly by his side in a flutter of shadow. He’s never done that before, always landing a short distance from the camp to give Aether some warning, so Aether is startled enough to leap up with a yelp. The bowl and its contents fall to the ground, entirely forgotten.

“Alatus? Did something happen?”

There are no injuries that Aether can see, but Alatus looks weary to the bone, his eyes dull and posture slumped. He stumbles forward, reaching out as he moves, and Aether takes Alatus’s gloved hand in both of his, willing as much comfort and warmth as he can into the limited touch.

“Rex Lapis has made the first strike against the Master, and successfully pushed his presence from the fringes of Liyue Harbor,” Alatus rasps. “And after today… the Master has commanded that I never leave his side. I will be unable to visit you at all.”

Heart seizing, Aether grips Alatus’s hand a little tighter. “Not even for the offerings?”

Alatus drops his head and closes his eyes, a motion of defeat.

“… I see.”

For a moment they simply stand there, motionless, as if time would stop with them.

“Then… we just have to fit as many good memories as we can into today, right?” Aether says, hating the way his voice trembles.

“I have until the sun reaches its zenith,” Alatus says, head still bowed. “Do as you like.”

--

Aether would love nothing more than to hold Alatus as tight as he would allow for hours on end, but since they cannot touch, Aether finds other ways for them to spend their final day.

“By the way, how did you get this sword?” Aether asks when he brings it out to thank Alatus for it.

“I… during one of my battles, I was able to defend a swordsmith and her family, and she gave it to me when I requested.” The faintly pleased smile on Alatus’s face fades, then. “I believe she did it more out of fear than gratefulness, but it doesn’t matter as long as you have something stronger than wooden spears to defend yourself with.”

“Well, I’m glad to have it,” Aether says quietly. A new thought strikes him. “Hey, did you want to try sparring, now that I have an actual weapon?”

He’s learned that Alatus enjoys a challenge, even those as small as weaving neat layers on a wicker basket or cooking fish to a perfect flakiness. So when Alatus pulls away sharply, hands twitching by his sides, it’s rather unexpected.

“No, I— I’m not going to hurt you,” Alatus says urgently. “Never.”

“…I do know how to fight,” Aether tells him cautiously, deliberately lowering the sword point to the ground. “Even if you tried, I don’t think you could injure me all that easily.”

“Training—” Alatus starts, and darkness begins to coalesce at his back in the shape of a blade and long shaft. When he jerkily shakes his head, it dissipates again, but he looks shaken. “No. Please, I can’t fight you.”

“Alright,” Aether agrees quickly. “It’s okay, we’ll find something else to do.”

“Something else” ends up being a walk down the valley stream, Aether splashing bare-footed in the shallows while Alatus names as many plants and animals as he knows for Aether’s sake. Their fingers stay linked the whole way, protected by the layer of Alatus’s glove.

Eventually they reach the huge, shining blue tree, and, as always, Aether pauses to wonder at it.

“Dragon-Queller,” Alatus says, and when Aether looks at him, he’s staring up into the spirit branches as well. “This is where Azhdaha remains sealed, with only Rex Lapis’s power to chain him in place.”

“Is that why the aura of this place is so… I don’t know. Dark?”

“So you did notice.” Alatus nods. “And it’s part of the reason there are so few monsters down here to threaten you.”

“Ah, I had wondered about that.” Somehow, Aether suspects the other part of the reason has to do with Alatus himself, but he doesn’t push the topic any more.

Further on in the valley, Alatus’s loose, trailing hair gets tangled in a particularly thick patch of undergrowth, and they are forced to spend the next handful of minutes trying to get him out. Alatus tries to convince Aether to just cut the strands away, but he refuses, and Alatus doesn’t seem to know what to make of that.

“If you want, I can try to comb it for you,” Aether offers hopefully. “Or at least wash it out.”

Alatus hesitates, and for a moment, Aether thinks he’s going to agree. But then his face falls back into quiet resignation, and he shakes his head. “The Master doesn’t take much notice of my appearance, but even so, he would certainly notice if my hair was suddenly taken care of.”

Just another reason for Aether to wish he could strike Alatus’s master dead on the spot.

“Alright. I understand.”

They walk back to the camp in bittersweet silence as the sun creeps higher and higher in the sky.

When they arrive, Aether digs through his basket of trinkets and pulls out an unfinished necklace, nothing more than a thin string of fibers and a glossy black stone strung on as a charm.

“I was planning to give this to you as an offering when I could find enough beads for it, but… I guess it’s better to give it to you now, huh?” Aether smiles shakily as he ties the frayed ends of the string into a simple knot. “Oh, wait. Let me just—”

Enclosing the necklace in both hands, Aether prays, pouring his whole heart into his wish for Alatus’s safety and their swift reunion. Then he drops it into Alatus’s waiting palm.

A shiver visibly makes its way through Alatus’s body the moment the charm touches his hands, and his fingers close around it as his eyes slip shut. Somehow, even after the hundreds of offerings Aether must’ve made by this point, this is the first time he’s actually seen Alatus in the act of accepting one.

“Thank you,” Alatus breathes when he opens his eyes again. “I will cherish it.”

Aether finds himself transfixed by the glow of Alatus’s curse-stained eyes framed by soft lashes, the loose hair that falls around curved, twisted horns and the diamond mark on his forehead, the gentle smile that transforms his whole face.

Sudden heat rises in his cheeks, and— no, there’s no way he’s actually started to think of Alatus like that—

But before he can do anything to either hide or mention it, Alatus hisses and folds into himself as if struck by some unknown force, and their time is up.

A gloved touch brushes across Aether’s forehead, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear— then vanishes on the next breeze.

And Aether steps out into the sun to cast his last plea up to the sky.

Alatus, however long it takes… I’ll be waiting for you.

-*-

That same night, Aether has just banked his fire and curled up in bed with his sword on one side and the flower box on the other, when a sudden spike of fear sends the hair on the back of his neck to prickling.

It’s a different feeling from that stormy night when Alatus had returned from his longest absence. Darker. More foreboding.

Slowly, Aether sits up, pulling the sword and the box toward him and feeling inexplicably like a baby rabbit sighted by a hawk out in the open. He turns.

“So, you’re the one who’s tried to turn my weapon away from me.”

Aether has all of a moment to cry Alatus! in his heart, and then—

Pupilless, iridescent eyes and a terrible smile are the last things Aether sees before blinding agony explodes inside his skull and he knows no more.

Notes:

I swear there's real fluff in the future. Somewhere.

<3

Chapter 7: Nightmare's End

Notes:

400+ kudos in a month???? Is this the power of writing for an active fandom?????? my god
Also you guys leave such nice comments for me I-- ;.;

TW: Some war violence and non-graphic descriptions of torture and starvation

Alatus streaks through the clear night sky, pushing his body faster and faster under the intertwined pull of the Master’s summons and Aether’s fearful cry. To have been commanded to remain idly in the palace all day, only to be called with such urgency now— Alatus does not have the full picture yet, but he can feel down to his core that something is wrongwrongwrong.

And when he realizes he’s headed directly toward the middle of Nantianmen valley, he knows exactly what he’s about to find.

His Heart shatters.

The telltale flicker of fire and column of smoke are Alatus’s only warnings for the sight that greets him when he plunges down to the Master’s side.

Aether’s camp is ablaze, so many seasons of careful work and skilled craft turned to ash within moments. The sword Alatus had given him is just visible in the middle of the inferno, planted blade-first into the ground, blackened and ruined; and the crumbling remains of the box Alatus knows Aether kept flowers in rests beside it.

Aether himself is being held limply in the Master’s grasp, with thin trails of blood dripping from his nose and mouth. The snarl of his nightmare threads is so dark and tangled in the air that Alatus can barely tell where they begin and end.

“Master,” Alatus whispers, and the Master looks down at him disdainfully.

“You dare to disobey me? To give your loyalty to this rat?” He shakes Aether’s body roughly, and Alatus trembles.

“And here I’d thought you were finally learning what it means to be a weapon for a true Archon,” the Master spits. “Very well then— if you wish to stay with this creature so badly, I won’t forbid it; not when he has at least one use left in this world.”

It’s a false reassurance, every word of it, and Alatus already knows the Master’s promises will turn to dust in his mouth and carve new scars into his Heart.

“Go on then, Alatus. Devour him.”

The Master lets go of Aether’s robe and vanishes into the night, the echo of his laugh mixing with Alatus’s strangled scream. He clearly believes that Alatus will obey his command whether he watches or not. And he is right.

“Aether,” Alatus keens, and then he’s helplessly sinking into Aether’s nightmares, tearing through the threads like cobwebs and choking as the foreign power sears its way down his throat. Perhaps worst of all, even this terrible violation of Aether’s self still carries the distant, fragrant memory of his offerings to Alatus, the sweetness of his love and forgiveness.

When all the threads are gone and Aether lies pale and twitching and drained in Alatus’s arms— alive where any normal human would have long passed on— Alatus is finally allowed to release him, though the command to devour still lingers on the fringes of his consciousness.

With careful, shaking hands, he lays Aether’s body out in the dewy evening grass and simply sits there, bowing his head as he feels his Heart shudder and crack and reform. A fresh wave of guilt stirs to life with it.

For some reason, his lowered gaze catches on Aether’s hand— the way his fingers remain tightly clenched despite the Master’s rough treatment and the draining of his life energy. Alatus doesn’t have the right to be curious, but he reaches out anyway, untucking Aether’s fingers one by one.

In the middle of Aether’s palm lies a single dried qingxin petal, crushed by the force of the grasp around it.

No regrets.

Alatus stares at it for a long moment, unblinking, as if one false move might reveal the petal to be nothing more than an illusion. But there it stays, stirring a little in the next whispering breeze, and then— something begins to burn in Alatus’s eyes—

Ah. He recognizes it, finally, the same as the sorrow-streaked faces and bitter wailing he finds at every battle and massacre.

 

The night that Alatus’s world falls apart is the same night he learns how to weep for it, crying his grief into the sky until the sun rises and he returns with Aether in his arms.

-*-

The Master demands that Alatus reveal his collection of Aether’s offerings, and so, fighting his own body the whole way, Alatus takes him to the hollowed-out rock where each gift has been carefully preserved and displayed.

With a snap of his fingers and barely a glance back, the Master burns everything to ash.

Later, in a rare moment when Alatus is allowed to hole himself up alone, he unlaces the panel of armor over his lower back and shakes out the treasures he keeps hidden there, special offerings that the Master never thought to ask about. The flute he’d taken to carrying in the days he and Aether spoke only with song, the dried qingxin that represents Aether’s foolish promise to him, and the black stone necklace that he’d been unable to store with the rest of his collection before the Master had destroyed it— these are all the memories of Aether he has left.

Slowly, achingly, Alatus turns each one over in his hands, searing them all into his memories before tucking them away once more. If he wants to keep these final, precious offerings safe, they must never see the light of day again.

--

Every night, the Master’s command compels Alatus to return to Aether’s side and devour his dreams.

The room in which Aether lies imprisoned is cold and bare, and there is little Alatus can do make it more comfortable. But then, perhaps there’s no point in even trying, not when Alatus’s meager efforts are immediately destroyed when he cuts into Aether’s nightmares and takes his energy without restraint.

Sometimes, Alatus catches vivid, senseless flashes from Aether’s consciousness— a girl with short blond hair and a white dress, her face blurred as if forgotten, gilt pillars that vanish into swirling clouds, a goddess of light and overwhelming power who vanishes as Aether falls, and even snatches of Alatus himself; his demon-like eyes and dark veins.

And because Aether’s mind is trapped deep in the labyrinth of the Master’s dream prism, Alatus knows that all these are the manifestation of Aether’s worst fears.

Every one of them burns like starfire in his throat.

--

Though Aether spoke often of his immortality, he had never given Alatus the details of his one weakness. Alatus had not pushed, of course. How could he, when they were both divines with secrets to keep? But he regrets that decision now as he watches Aether grow weaker and weaker with every drop of energy that Alatus steals, his pulse slowing and golden aura fading. Not even Aether’s time of starvation had affected him in this way.

It seems appropriate, somehow, that Alatus will be the one to kill Aether in the end after all.

--

The war drags on, and though no one dares say it out loud, it is clear that Rex Lapis is winning.

Each of the Master’s attacks grow more reckless as his strategies fall apart, and he and his army of allied adepti are pushed further and further back into the ruins of Guili.

Alatus is always on the battlefield now, spear dripping with blood and his shadow-bound skin scorching under the sun. The Master had never had much tolerance for mistakes, but now even a perceived slip is enough cause for him to bring his blade down over Alatus’s arms and shoulders and back.

Alatus bears it without a sound. It is less than he deserves.

--

A scouting party for Rex Lapis’s army camps out on the snowy mountain between Liyue and Mondstadt, and Alatus is sent after them.

Rex Lapis’s adepti are strong, of course they are, but Alatus was raised and shaped for war, and he kills all but the one who chooses to flee before the battle is over. It is a cowardly move, but all Alatus can think is how he wishes he could do the same.

The Hearts of the fallen adepti find their way into Alatus’s stomach, where their power churns and dissolves among the bitter remnants of Aether’s last nightmares. He ends up on his hands and knees in the glittering snow, heaving and choking without result as his own Heart warps again with the influx of overwhelming energy.

As Alatus stares emptily down at the half-solid mounds of ice around him, he is struck by a sudden, inexplicable thought. Snow is neither food nor a source of power, but there is nothing to say it cannot still be eaten. Almost mesmerized, Alatus gathers a frozen handful and tips it into his mouth.

His mouth tingles, then spikes with icy pain— then goes completely numb with the chill of it, no longer able to taste the gentle misery of Aether’s dying dreams at all.

Without hesitation, Alatus scoops up his next mouthful.

--

Time passes, and Aether’s body begins to fade.

It is almost as if Alatus has been returned to their early days together, when Aether had become little more than skin and bones, organs eating themselves from the inside out.

Forbidden as he is from bringing Aether food or drink, Alatus once again watches helplessly as Aether’s limbs thin, his hair loses its earlier shine, and his skin pales and grows dangerously cool. But even if the Master had allowed food, Alatus isn’t sure he could get Aether to safely swallow anything down.

A god’s immortality compressed into a human’s fragile body is a cruel paradox indeed.

Alatus does not know whether the Master intends to punish him further by making him futilely attempt to keep Aether alive, or if has simply forgotten to forbid healing. But either way, Alatus remains able to use his feeble restorative skill to hold Aether’s body together, and perhaps even stave off the worst of the pain.

Each night, he fractures his Heart a little more as he feeds on Aether’s nightmares, then turns around to pour what strength he can back into Aether’s trembling body. And while Aether is still impossibly responsive to what should be invasive energy, it’s almost as if Alatus is trying to fill a bottomless ocean with nothing but his bare hands— no matter what he gives or how long he tries, Aether’s core is never even close to full.

--

The God of Dreams calls his forces together in the dark of a waning solstice moon, and Alatus instinctually knows that whatever the result, this will be the last great battle of the war.

“Rex Lapis’s arrogance has been permitted to grow for far too long.” The Master’s voice booms over the field of his gathered army. “Tonight, it ends forever. I will show him what it means to be a true Archon.”

The horde roars their support, and Alatus flinches from his place at the Master’s side as the thundering volume of it stabs deep into his ears.

“Alatus,” The Master speaks, quieter now, and runs his fingers over a strand of Alatus’s hair as Alatus stiffens. “My greatest creation. What better way to prove your worth than becoming the hand that strikes down an Archon himself?”

Alatus can think of nothing worse, but it is not his place to argue. His Heart floats above the Master’s palm, dark and crumbling under the weight of a thousand chains.

“In a battle of fate, there is no place for mercy. Draw your weapon, Alatus. Leave none standing.”

--

The two divine forces meet upon the clear, grassy plains of Cuijue; Saizhen’s shadow-spun dreams clashing violently with Rex Lapis’s unshakable amber brilliance. A great sigh seems to blanket the battlefield as each army stands silent, motionless; anticipating the commands of their Archons.

Then a horn sounds, a hand falls, and the world explodes into pain.

Alatus descends, the Master’s final command ringing in his ears as he cuts through the ranks of spirits and adepti with fatal precision, his spear drinking in their deaths. An unbroken trail of ichor and shattered Hearts falls in Alatus’s wake, but he has no time to look back upon it.

Overhead, the skies plunge into cloudless darkness as the burden of war rapidly piles up over the land, new craters and valleys and spears of stone testament to the overwhelming collision of divine powers.

A great meteor crashes down to the earth some distance away, and Alatus, along with the ranks of other adepti around him, are thrown back from the force of it.

“Alatus!” Comes the Master’s command, and Alatus yanks his spear from the chest of a fallen ocean adeptus and shoots across the battlefield to the Master’s side.

It is there he gets his first glimpse of Rex Lapis himself, a sinuous golden dragon locked in combat with the Master’s enormous raven form, both gods radiating enough pure strength to nearly flatten Alatus at this proximity. But he’s not the Master’s greatest weapon for nothing, so he pushes through, dodging the earth-shaking geo spires that stab endlessly from the ground and the lashing tendrils of dreams and madness that ride upon the Master’s wings.

The closer Alatus gets, the clearer it becomes that Rex Lapis’s scales are still untouched and flawless, while the Master’s feathers are scattered across the ground, sticky with ichor. It is almost as if watching a cat play with a mouse, and Alatus traitorously wonders what the Master expects him to do against such a mighty dragon.

But the command upon him demands he try something, so Alatus sinks his claws deep into his own core to draw out every scrap of his power, every flickering light from Aether’s long-ago offerings, every corrosive strand of devoured nightmares— and layers it over his limbs and spear until his body creaks under the unnatural force of it.

The two Archons pull apart, a lull in the dance of battle, and the Master shouts a wordless order. Alatus strikes.

The jagged obsidian of his spear makes contact with the aurous scales of the dragon’s neck, and power flares violently as Rex Lapis’s shield repels Alatus’s attack.

Tears even Alatus does not understand are blown back and vaporized the moment they slip from his eyes. A shapeless scream rips from his throat as he forces his body onward even as Rex Lapis’s defenses tear him apart— the shield cracks, just a fraction—

The Master launches forward just as Alatus pushes every remaining drop of Aether’s clean, pure power to the point of his spear, his last Heart-strangling act of rebellion, a touch of healing instead of corruption.

Rex Lapis’s roar shakes the earth, and, unhindered, he brings his jaws down upon the Master’s exposed neck with an echoing crack.

For a moment, the world is suspended in time, a crystal-clear moment of silence and horror and wonder as Fate slips the shuttle back over her strings and moves the frame into place— then Saizhen falls to the ground, instantly engulfed in a tomb of Rex Lapis’s indomitable power. Great stone columns leap from the earth all around the pit in which the God of Dreams will remain sealed forever.

The Archon of Geo absorbs the power of his last fallen enemy and claims his place on the thrones of Celestia in the space of a breath. Saizhen has lost. The battle is over.

Chaos reigns as Saizhen’s scattered adepti fight or flee, but Alatus is deaf to it all, standing alone in the pit as his Heart falls to the earth with a barely audible thump and the cruel shackles of the Master’s control snap and fade away as if they’d never been there in the first place. Alatus is unmoored, lost, directionless. He’s been held captive for so long he’d forgotten what it meant to be free, and now that his will is his own again, he can feel nothing but terror.

Solemn footsteps approach the place Alatus is rooted to the ground, pause beside his fallen Heart, resume again. Then Rex Lapis’s mortal form towers before Alatus, glorious in the light of his own power, a figure just like Saizhen’s that demands the fearful submission of all.

Drained in both body and soul, Alatus sees no point in even trying to fight it.

Without a word, he drops to his knees at Rex Lapis’s feet and bares his neck, mindless of the gasp of the qilin adeptus just behind, praying that the Archon will at least make his death a swift one. Fleetingly, he thinks of Aether, weak and alone in Saizhen’s palace, awakening without Alatus by his side. Something in his chest throbs as he realizes he will never see Aether again.

“I have never seen a Heart so damaged while its owner yet lives.”

Alatus does not look up at Rex Lapis’s soft, rumbling words, and only bends his head farther, pressing himself into the dirt. He may be alive for now, but even if the Archon does not kill him, without Aether’s pure energy to hold him together under the strain of his ever-mounting karma, Alatus will soon become a demon anyway.

“A weapon is not responsible for the sins of its master,” Rex Lapis says slowly. “And neither enemies nor cowards surrender so completely as this.”

An arm of stone-dark skin and glowing lines of geo slides into sight, and Alatus stares blankly down at his own Heart lying innocently in Rex Lapis’s outstretched hand. Is the Archon trying to let Alatus die with some dignity?

“Lord Rex, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Rex Lapis’s half-adeptus servant asks quietly, and Alatus shivers at her gall, waiting see what punishment awaits those who dare question the will of the Geo Archon.

But Rex Lapis makes no move toward either her or Alatus. “I understand your reservations, Ganyu, but this adeptus seems not to be an evil in need of purging, but rather a tired, lost soul. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I… I do. Still, I worry.”

Rex Lapis’s laugh is low and melodic, a far cry from Saizhen’s cutting mockery. “And your concern is invaluable to me.”

There’s a rustle of fabric, then Rex Lapis’s other hand slips beneath Alatus’s chin, forcing his head up in a strangely gentle motion. Alatus catches a glimpse of a searing amber glare, branching horns, and delicate, regal features before averting his gaze as quickly as he can. He knows better than to meet an Archon’s eyes like an equal.

“Adeptus,” Rex Lapis intones, “Saizhen’s hold over you is broken, and your Heart shall never be chained again. Why do you refuse to take it back?”

Alatus doesn’t understand. “My lord, please,” he rasps, begs. “If you plan to kill me, I only ask that you make it swift. I will not resist, whatever you decide.”

Rex Lapis’s beautiful face twists with a frown; and somehow Alatus has angered him, forfeited his right to a painless end. Resigned, he bows his head again, chin dropping from Rex Lapis’s grasp.

“What is your name, adeptus?”

It is a strange question, but Alatus has already promised to submit to whatever this Archon wills. “Saizhen called me Alatus, but I will answer to any name you wish.”

“You have never chosen a name of your own?” Rex Lapis sounds displeased again, and Alatus flinches into himself.

“I had served Saizhen from nearly the day I was born.”

The half-adeptus makes a strange, soft noise, and Rex Lapis sighs audibly.

“I see.” His tone is unreadable. “In that case…”

Alatus shivers and tenses, preparing for the pain of a death blow— but nothing comes. He dares to look up.

“Alatus. Wandering soul from an age now consigned to the past. Would you form a contract with me?”

Each word vibrates in the air like the ringing of a gong, and Alatus is suddenly unable to tear his eyes away from the all-encompassing power that spills from Rex Lapis’s hands, an Archon in his element.

Perhaps Rex Lapis has decided Alatus should pay for his sins with service rather than death; or perhaps he wants a new weapon or plaything, as Saizhen had so long ago. None of it matters to Alatus, not when one Master is the same as any other and he will soon be slaughtered anyway as a raging, feral demon.

At least this way, he might have the chance to protect Aether one last time.

With trembling fingers, Alatus takes the contract in both hands, not even bothering to read it as he seals his unconditional submission deep into the stone. As he does so, a cord of fiery gold weaves its way between Rex Lapis and himself, the symbol of their new, unshakable connection.

Rex Lapis raises Alatus’s Heart into the air, speaks a word of power— then, with a force that drives the air from Alatus’s lungs, his Heart is punched back into his chest, filling a hollow that has remained empty for a thousand years. It burns.

“There was once a great warrior of shadow and flight who fought and suffered much for the sake of his love; and I believe his long-lost name will suit you quite well.” Rex Lapis’s gaze is piercing upon him. “From now on, you will be known as Xiao.”

In the light of the rising sun, Rex Lapis holds out a hand— and, weary and resigned to his twisting fate, Alatus takes it.

“Take back your life, Xiao; fight to make it your own. And I will walk beside you to the light of a new day.”

Notes:

Ehe~
<3

Chapter 8: To Save Your Life, Sacrifice

Notes:

I actually hate this chapter but i am Very Tired and Very Stressed and I have 4 9-hour shifts in a row and a driver's test that I've put off for literal years and if i fail it will be like 4 months and a renewed permit before I can try again and im goingot cry--

TW: Xiao passive self-harm

As expected, Alatus’s new Master soon leaves to take control in the aftermath of the battle— but he does so without giving Alatus any orders to follow. And after the half-adeptus— Ganyu?— leaps from the pit after her Archon, Alatus is left alone and adrift; unable to serve the Master without instructions but unwilling to simply walk away for fear of his wrath.

So there Alatus— no, Xiao, the Master has given him a new name and he must learn to answer to it— waits. The permanently darkened skies of Cuijue cloud over as rain begins to fall, cold and ashy on his skin, but Xiao no longer flinches at the trivial discomforts of bad weather.

He longs to return to Aether, a desire so strong it makes his very bones ache, but— no. He would never forgive himself if he freed Aether from one god only to act too soon and alert the next to Aether’s existence. Xiao will wait for a time in which the Master is fully occupied elsewhere, rescue Aether from Saizhen’s prison, take him somewhere safe, and then… say goodbye.

Aether may have no regrets, but Xiao finally understands that his own presence is a curse, and now that he has been given a second chance, he will not waste it. If protecting Aether means never meeting him again, then so be it.

The rain slows to a drizzle, then stops entirely, and still Xiao waits. Around the rim of the pit, he can see the crowds of adepti thinning out, but there is still no sign of the Master, or even his half-adeptus servant. It seems unlikely that they will be finished with their work anytime soon. Reluctantly, Xiao kneels in the mud and slips into his waiting trance, the one he’d perfected during the times Saizhen had neither forced him to fight nor allowed Xiao to leave his side.

…When he opens his eyes again, the faint glow of the sun through dark clouds has faded once more, and the Master is standing over him, calling his name in a sharp, urgent tone.

“-to you, Xiao? Xiao!”

“Master,” Xiao croaks, bending his head to the ground. “I’m here.”

“Good,” the Master says, tone lightening. “Though there is no need to call me that. Where did you go, Xiao? You had me worried.”

Worried? The Master is displeased by Xiao’s method of passing the time, then. He must endeavor to unlearn it.

“I’m here, my lord,” Xiao tries. “What do you need?”

“…I have nothing to request of you at this time. In fact, I had expected you to leave as soon as the contract was completed. Why are you still here?”

Risking a glance up, Xiao takes in the Master’s slightly tilted head, pinched brows, and guileless expression.

…Is this a test of some kind?

“I follow your orders now, my lord, and you have yet to give me any.” This Master may not have Xiao’s Heart, but the contract binds him just as surely.

There is a long and terrifying silence before the Master sighs heavily and turns to the side. “I see I still have much to learn about you, Xiao. Very well. Your orders are thus: you are free to do as you wish until sundown tomorrow, at which time I must ask you to meet me upon Mount Tianheng, so I may give you clearer duties.”

The command is so obviously a trap, but Xiao only bows his head in agreement. By next sundown, the Master will have seen nothing from Xiao besides the loyalty he desires; and after Xiao finishes his final, most important rebellion, that is all he will see until Xiao’s time is up.

--

Once the Master leaves the torn fields of Cuijue entirely, Xiao takes off for Mount Tianheng, where he spends the rest of the night and all of the next day. It is the closest he has ever been to the city harbor, and though it feels wrong to look, he can’t help but wonder at the colorful sprawl of buildings and ships, prosperous even in a time of war. Is this the power of an Archon who truly cares for the mortals under his rule?

The sun begins to sink below the flat, shining line of the ocean horizon, and the Master appears as promised, alighting on the mountaintop in a bright flash of geo. “Xiao,” he greets solemnly.

“My lord,” Xiao returns, bowing his head. The Archon’s feet are bare again, and the ribbons of a white robe stir around his legs.

“I trust you have been well?”

As if the Master has not been watching Xiao from the moment he gave his first order, as if it matters how ‘well’ Xiao is when the Master’s will must be done.

“What do you require of me, my lord?” he asks, keeping his voice carefully even.

A pause.

“I have given the matter some consideration,” the Master says, “but now that the final Archon contender is sealed away and most of the remaining adepti are gathered under my banner, I have little need for a spear that knows only war.”

Dull panic flutters in Xiao’s chest, but he squashes it down. As expected, he is useless in an era of peace, but Xiao can only hope the Master’s next plan for him is as merciful as the death he’d been denied earlier.

“So instead, I asked some of the other adepti what tasks might require power of your caliber, and Ganyu has agreed to guide you as she does her regular patrols of the land.”

The Master sounds satisfied, but all Xiao can feel is dread. Other adepti have always scorned him for his lack of freedom or feared him for his strength— and now he is being placed under the command of a powerful half-adeptus who already wishes Xiao dead?

He wonders when he will cease to be surprised by each new Master’s cruelty.

“When shall I start, my lord?” Xiao asks, closing his eyes in defeat.

“I have business in the harbor tomorrow and Ganyu’s next patrol is not until the night after that,” the Master hums. “So I will ask you to return here during moonrise at that time. Until then, you may once again do as you like.”

Xiao nods, and with a quiet farewell, the Master vanishes from the mountain.

Tomorrow. It still seems far too soon to risk returning to Aether, but with the Master likely to be truly gone for the day and Ganyu an unknown danger in his future, this may be Xiao’s only chance to save his… whatever Aether is.

He has to take it.

--

When Xiao lands soundlessly in the courtyard of Saizhen’s abandoned palace, he finds it dark and already crumbling without its master’s power. Good. There will be no one to see him and report his insubordination back to the Master.

He darts through halls he could’ve navigated blind— has navigated blind, in fact, but that isn’t what matters now. Aether is locked in the last room of the west wing hall, and when Xiao reaches it, he simply cuts through the door with a swipe of his jagged spear. May this room never imprison another soul again.

Inside, Aether is lying on the floor just as Xiao had left him, cold and pale and still. It is only by the slow rise and fall of his chest and the dim glow of his aura that Xiao can tell he’s still alive at all.

The seeping curse of Saizhen’s dream prism is gone from around Aether’s head, but it seems he had put himself right back into a deep meditation to stave off pain and preserve his body for as long as possible. Xiao sighs, and resists the urge to run his fingers through brittle golden hair. Even after everything, Aether still clings to life.

Xiao allows himself one moment to imprint every detail of Aether’s fading presence into his memory and mourn for what he must do next. Then, carefully ensuring none of their skin touches, he scoops Aether up with all the gentleness his bloodstained hands know how to give, and carries him away into the night.

--

The next part of Xiao’s plan is perhaps the most dangerous, so he creeps into the fringes of Liyue Harbor with caution that edges on paranoia. There is a large building set just outside the city walls here, that, when Xiao had watched it from atop the mountain, had been crowded during the day and empty at night. In other words, it is a place he may safely leave Aether without attracting attention, but still be sure that Aether will be found by morning.

Xiao lays Aether down in the shadows behind the building, where the lights of the harbor can’t be seen, folding his limp hands over his stomach and making him as comfortable as possible on the smooth stone cobbles of the building’s foundation. It will have to do for just one night longer.

Then, reaching deep into his Heart for whatever power might be left, Xiao activates his Vision and makes his final, unfettered attempt at filling the void in Aether’s core.

It tugs a little at first, then drags, then hurts as Xiao pours everything he has into healing Aether’s body— or rather, giving Aether’s body the power it needs to heal itself. Even his strike against Rex Lapis hadn’t made his Heart scream this way, with the agony of emptiness from which still more must be drawn.

Xiao can feel his own pulse fluttering rapidly in his chest when he finally pulls back, and even that short movement momentarily whites out his vision with staggering dizziness. It will be difficult to leave the harbor in this state, but if Xiao is very careful with the use of his powers, he should be able to manage it. For Aether, he will endure anything.

A tiny movement below catches his eye, and Xiao looks down just in time to see Aether’s eyelids flutter open. He freezes.

“A— Alatus?”

Xiao swallows thickly. After finding Aether still asleep at the palace, he had hoped like a coward to finish his plan and be gone before Aether could wake and focus those gentle golden eyes upon him. But now that he has, Xiao must ensure that Aether never comes looking for him again.

“Alatus is now a name of the past. The God of Dreams was slain in battle four suns ago, and I was claimed by a new master, who has contracted me into his service and named me Xiao.” And Xiao takes a deep breath as he speaks his final, greatest lie. “I no longer have any need of you, Aether. Do not attempt to call me again.”

Aether’s eyes grow wide and fearful, and Xiao rips his gaze away. Loosening the back panel of his armor, he withdraws the qingxin blossom— now crushed and torn from lack of care— and lays it upon Aether’s chest. “I am grateful for your offerings to me, but with this I end our promise. Farewell.”

And, unable to bear his own betrayal any longer, Xiao calls on his Vision for a final fragment of power and streaks off into the darkness, leaving Aether far, far behind.

 

--

 

Xiao spends all of the next day curled up in a cave on the side of Mount Tianheng, burying his grief so deep he feels numb and waiting for his weak, corrupted Heart to regenerate his powers.

Both tasks take far longer to complete than they should.

--

By moonrise, though, he faithfully crawls out of hiding and returns to the mountaintop where the half-adeptus is already waiting for him, her hair shining in the silver light.

Xiao approaches quietly, then stops and kneels a safe distance away, waiting for her to deem him worthy of her attention.

It takes quite a while, but as long as there is no pain, it’s easy for Xiao to wait. Every now and then, Ganyu shifts idly, her hair and robes stirring in the breeze, or hums snatches of some unfamiliar lulling melody. When her Vision flares for a moment, Xiao tenses, but the energy only flows into a sphere of pure cryo in her hands, one that glitters and mists faintly into the warm air. She’s… playing.

It seems incredibly wasteful, but so long as she doesn’t direct her formidable strength at Xiao, he cares little what she does with her own power.

Finally, the half-adeptus sighs and turns, and the wait is over. Xiao bends his head again, keeps his eyes fixed on the ground even when she gasps and hurries toward him.

“Xiao! When did you— why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

It seems that where Saizhen used torture for punishment and to gather information, Rex Lapis and his adepti prefer games of the mind. Xiao refuses to fall for their traps.

“I am here to serve you, Lord Ganyu, and will therefore wait as long as you desire.”

“Lord— as long as I— wait, Xiao.” Her voice is pitched and stuttering, and Xiao wonders what it means. “I’m not Rex Lapis, and I’m certainly not older than you, so there’s no need to call me ‘lord’. Just Ganyu is fine. And besides that… the only person we serve at all is Lord Rex; you and I are equals under him. I’m only here to be your guide and help you adapt to our way of living. You… do understand that, right?”

“Yes, Ganyu,” Xiao responds dutifully.

“…If you’re sure,” she sighs after a moment. “We’d best get going then, if we are to clear the roads around Liyue Harbor before dawn. Come, we’ll start right at the base of Tianheng.”

And in a few short steps, she leaps off the edge of the mountaintop and disappears in a sparkle of ice. Xiao plunges after her.

--

They come across a growing geovishap den that Ganyu destroys with flawless efficiency, great blossoms of cryo and showers of arrows ensuring that none of the monsters can even escape through the cracks in their cavern, let alone draw near enough to retaliate.

Xiao recognizes each shot as the same power that had pierced through his own back on the day of Ganyu’s trap for him so long ago.

When the last vishap falls and crumbles back into the Ley, Ganyu treads into the center of their den to lay a single glaze lily in the dust. Xiao watches her with unwavering focus, waiting for her actions to somehow explain themselves.

But even though she catches him staring, she does nothing but offer him a sad smile. “No matter how hard we may wish otherwise, the defending of one life often means the ending of another. But at the very least, I will honor them to the last.”

She is choosing… to linger upon the memories of those she has killed? Xiao cannot understand why she would want to, nor how she remains sane with such a graveyard in her mind. Even so, his gaze keeps returning to the curious reverence of the lone flower.

--

A crowd of pyro slimes has formed from the elemental energy of a newly blossomed flame flower, and after a nod from Ganyu, Xiao shoots forward to wipe them out.

By now, he is strong enough that such creatures are little more than annoyances in his path— so it is the work of a moment for Xiao to swirl the slimes together and destroy them from the inside out. Their bodies disperse in fiery explosions, of course, but Xiao doesn’t bother to move out of the way. Any burns he sustains will take no more than a day to heal, and the charring of his armor is nothing new. He turns back to face Ganyu.

Her body is tense, and her eyes are huge, staring— caught somewhere between horror and fear. Xiao’s heart sinks.

“Xiao…” Ganyu starts quietly. “Is that how you always fight?”

The answer seems obvious, so Xiao searches for some other hidden meaning in her words. “Do you wish me to change it?”

“What I want…” She shakes her head, delicate brows furrowed. “Nevermind. I simply wasn’t expecting… that.”

Xiao can feel her disapproval over his head like a physical weight, but Ganyu offers no indication as to what she does want of him. And if she refuses to give him instructions, won’t lay so much as a hand upon him so he might know where he’s mis-stepped…

Wearily, Xiao follows as she continues on down the road. At least Saizhen’s expectations and punishments had always been clear.

--

The sun rises, brilliant and orange over the mountains as Ganyu brings them back to the base of Mount Tianheng.

She explains to Xiao that she has duties in the harbor, tells him that she’ll summon him again for her next patrol of Liyue, and, for some reason, thanks him for his help— all with a troubled look on her face. Xiao is certain every detail of their time together will soon be reaching the Master’s ears, and for once, he’s happy to let it. The more he can prove his loyalty and usefulness to the Master after his one act of defiance, the safer Aether will remain.

But then Ganyu leaves, trotting off back to the city— without giving Xiao any new orders.

Without a single rule or command or even suggestion to guide him, he cannot guess as to what the Master finds acceptable, what he may be allowed to do during his days of waiting. Hesitantly, he attempts to return to the cave beneath Tianheng, but the location is now overflowing with painful, dangerous memories of Aether and what Xiao had done to him. He vows never to set foot in it again.

In the end, he finds himself back on the peak of the mountain, staring out over the sprawl of the city and carefully thinking of nothing at all as the morning sun begins to scorch his exposed skin and heat his heavy black armor. A moment of weakness amid the growing pain has Xiao pulling his own Heart from his chest and staring at the cracks and corruption over what he knows was once a brilliant, rainbow-faceted crystal. Quietly, he puts it back, already regretting his decision.

How long he stands there, he does not know.

The sun moves across the sky. Whispering winds pick up and die down again. An eagle screeches as it circles rhythmically overhead.

The Master was displeased by Xiao’s waiting trance, so of course he cannot use it, but time is now an enemy he must actively fight against.

Slowly, the sky turns orange, then purple. Smoke no longer curls off his corrupted skin and his body begins to heal the damage. A curious squirrel approaches Xiao’s foot, then flees upon sensing his aura.

A stunning golden dragon descends from the clouds.

And Xiao slips to his knees before the Master, easy as a breath.

“Xiao.” The ground-shaking steps of a dragon’s claws turn to the soft swish of bare feet in the grass. “Why do remain here when your duties with Ganyu are finished? What are you waiting for?”

Xiao closes his eyes. “Neither you nor Ganyu have given me further orders, so I must wait where I am left until you have need of me again.”

The Master is silent for a long, long time.

“Is this what the God of Dreams demanded of you?” He finally says, low and rumbling with an undercurrent of a threat. “Interminable waiting with no respite? Absolute submission and unquestioning agreement? Dangerous battles without even a moment’s consideration for your wellbeing?”

Does the Master desire those things or is he condemning them? Why is he angry?

“Yes, my lord,” Xiao says simply, locking his body in place to stop it from cowering.

The Master steps closer and his voice softens still more. “He forbade you from caring for your body? He clothed you in armor of thorns and put a bloodthirsty spear in your hands? He stole not only your Heart and name, but also your pride?”

A master’s servants cannot have pride of their own, armor and weapons are the basic tools of war, and Xiao does care for his body— he would not be functional enough to carry out the Master’s orders if he didn’t. “My lord, I don’t understand,” he manages.

“I see.” Is all the Master says, and Xiao can glean nothing from the words. All he knows is that he has somehow failed in the Master’s eyes; and he bends his head, preparing for the punishment that will surely follow.

“…To think that I might have demanded the same of you if she had not taught me to rise above my nature,” the Master sighs. “Only days into our contract and I have already wronged you, Xiao. Come, return with me to Jueyun Karst, and we will begin anew.”

Notes:

this is what i get for refusing to flesh out andstick to an outline

Chapter 9: Rebirth

Notes:

I had a whole angsty moment in the notes of the last chapter and all your comments were just,,,,, so nice to me??? ;.; Thank you all, seriously, that's what kept me going last week
I'm sorry I don't have the energy to reply to everyone, but just know I have read everything multiple times and smiled like an idiot over it, so
Unfortunately this week looks pretty much the same in terms of stupidly long shifts at work, so it might be a while before the next chapter :/
(But at least I passed my driving test! Thank god, and i'm never doing that again)

The Master flies, winding his way through the sky like a herald’s golden banner, and Xiao stirs the winds to glide alongside him.

Before Aether, flight had been the only time Xiao could leave his fear and pain behind for a few precious moments, so he savors the rare opportunity to do so now. Who knows what the Master will and will not permit from here on out?

They land on the peak of Mount Aocang, where the air drips with powerful adeptal energy and the winds are improbably calm and warm. An earth-born crane adeptus steps out to meet them, and Xiao distantly recognizes her from some of his battles closer to Liyue Harbor, though he can’t remember her name.

“Welcome, Rex Lapis,” she greets sonorously, dipping her head in a bow. “One was not expecting your visit for several more suns. What is the occasion?”

The Master slips back into mortal form between one blink and the next. “Thank you, Cloud Retainer. I apologize for the intrusion, but I have come to realize a mistake of mine that I must begin rectifying immediately.”

He gestures, and Xiao steps forward at once, carefully avoiding Cloud Retainer’s piercing eyes.

“This is Xiao, a life-born adeptus with whom I formed a contract shortly after the battle against Saizhen ended.”

“…Rex Lapis, this was the weapon of the God of Dreams,” Cloud Retainer says sharply, and Xiao refuses to flinch.

“Indeed he was,” the Master’s voice is low and perhaps… stern? “But Xiao had no more control over Saizhen’s choices than you or I. Our contract sealed into stone my promise to give him a new life, and his promise to protect those he was once forced to destroy. Have some faith.”

Was that the arrangement of the contract Xiao had signed with the Master? To go from slaughtering those Saizhen had deemed below him to protecting all of the Master’s people… it seems too kind. And besides that—

Have some faith. The words seem to echo in Xiao’s ears, and for a moment, his lungs are unable to expand at all. Here, there is no reason to pretend that Xiao is not a monster, no need for the Master to maintain a façade before one of his most favored servants. And yet.

Xiao wonders, catches himself, wonders anyway.

They exchange a few more words that Xiao doesn’t hear, and then Cloud Retainer is sedately returning to her abode, leaving Xiao and the Master alone beside the dark, star-scattered lake.

“I may never truly understand how Saizhen’s treatment shaped your existence,” The Master says, pacing to the water’s edge. “But I do have some idea, and that is enough for me to warn you now.”

He turns suddenly, and Xiao glimpses the fierce glow of the Master’s eyes and horns before hastily lowing his gaze.

“Many of the things we— that is, I and the rest of the adepti who follow me— do… will make little sense to you, I believe. You may see our actions and ideas as wasteful, or pointless, or perhaps even impossible. What I ask of you now is to watch and wait. Allow these changes to flow over you as a river, and seek out your own understanding of them in time. By my order, you will face no punishment for any questions you might ask, hesitations you might encounter, or mistakes you might make as you adapt to our ways of living.” The Master’s words are solemn, heavy with promise, and Xiao struggles to comprehend even one of them.

“In the future, there may be a great many trials for you to navigate. But for now…” The Master beckons, and Xiao walks toward him on shaking legs. “We will begin by simply washing away whatever traces of your past still weigh you down.”

Wading waist-deep into the lake, the Master draws Xiao farther forward until his feet, too, splash in the shallows (Aether’s favorite sound— Xiao crushes the memory back as quickly as it had come) and he shivers with both cold and fear.

The Master’s hooded white robe falls from his shoulders, glittering away into nothing, and Xiao understands that he is expected to do much the same. But even if he could summon and dismiss his armor at will, the protective panel over his lower back is burning with precious secrets that Xiao would truly do anything to protect.

“My lord,” he chokes out.

“Why do you hesitate, Xiao?”

And somehow the words are soft where they should be accusing, demanding, but all Xiao can think is that he’s defying the Master, and surely, surely this will be the transgression that brings that finally brings the Master’s wrath down upon his head—

“Speak, Xiao. No problem can be solved if it is not shared,” the Master rumbles.

“Master, I’m sorry, I— I cannot—” The title is a fatal slip, but Xiao can barely force the words from his mouth as it is.

The Master regards him for a moment. “In that case, shall we form another contract? You will do whatever it takes to overcome this barrier, and in return, I will do anything you ask of me for the sake of that achievement.”

It’s a lie, a trap, an impossible promise.

It’s a contract carved in stone. Xiao has no other options.

“Please,” he manages to whisper. “Don’t look.”

The Master gives a questioning hum, but then— he turns around, and Xiao can even feel the ever-present pressure of his attention falling away. Stunned, he nearly forgets why he’d dared to test the Master’s generosity in the first place, but he forces his whirling thoughts to silence and sheds the plates of his armor as quickly as he can, heaping the pieces over Aether’s offerings and relying on nothing but the Master’s promise to keep them hidden.

It is the first time Xiao has been entirely without his armor since… well, since Saizhen had first given it to him. Now that it’s gone, he’s untethered, dazed; and he sinks into the chill of the lake almost blindly.

Through the water’s distortion he can see the lines of dark corruption of his body, and the scars that mar his skin all the way down to his hands and feet— every sign of weakness and failure that Saizhen had so hated to see upon him.

The Master still hasn’t turned around, and Xiao is foolishly grateful that he won’t be seeing Xiao’s long-ruined body.

For a while, Xiao floats aimlessly, submerging himself up the neck and feeling his fingertips grow pleasantly numb with the chill. A golden glow emanates from the Master’s hands and arms and refracts through the whole lake, leaving Xiao to watch dizzily as light plays just beneath the surface.

In a distant sort of way, he feels his head clearing, thoughts crystallizing. A weight he had not even known was there has fallen from his shoulders and dissolved away into the pure water, and he can feel the tie of the Master’s contract throbbing gently between them like a second heartbeat.

It is still a tether, and the strength of the Master’s power over the connection is just as great as when Saizhen had held Xiao’s Heart. But if Saizhen’s control was that of a chain, then the Master’s contract is a mere thread. And where the chain had been wound around Xiao’s throat, the thread is only looped over his fingers, a constant, unobtrusive reminder.

Somehow, even though Xiao’s new master is the God of War and Victory, he is gentler now than the God of Dreams had ever been.

“Xiao,” the Master says, more a vibration of the earth than a real sound. “Are you ready?”

Even if Xiao had not been so pathetically grateful to the Master, he has no fight left in him with which to so much as consider mounting a resistance. He bows his head and rises from the water. “Whatever you wish, my lord.”

--

Meekly, Xiao follows the Master to the small island in the middle of the lake, where a stone table and ring of stools are artfully arranged beneath the shadow of a tree.

The Master dries himself in a flash of power. Over Xiao’s bare, dripping skin, even the warm breezes of Aocang are enough to make him shiver, but following the Master’s example without permission is too much of a risk. So he waits.

Back still turned to Xiao, the Master murmurs something unintelligible, makes a sign with his hands— and suddenly Xiao’s arms are full of soft, colorful silks and the glint of polished metal. Struggling to catch it all, Xiao shudders when he realizes the Master’s fine clothing is being stained by the water still clinging to his skin. Xiao had been meant to dry himself, then, but it is far too late now to change anything.

“I have selected these from the offerings the people of Liyue make to me,” the Master says, “and it is my hope that you find something suited to your tastes from among my choices.”

Bewilderment gives Xiao the daring to look up, but the back of the Master’s head offers nothing in the way of answers. Is he meant to… study the things the Master has given him? And pick one?

Fearfully, he lifts the first item from the pile and shakes it out as best he can while still keeping a firm hold on the rest.

It’s a dark gray over-robe with loose, trailing sleeves and faintly turquoise trimming; and even as inexperienced as Xiao is in such things, he can tell it’s well-crafted, and probably quite valuable. Too valuable for him.

He lifts the next.

Long sashes, sturdy gloves, flexible pants— all are practical for movement and perhaps even battle, and all are of the finest quality, enough that Xiao is afraid he will somehow ruin the fabrics with his rough hands. In the end, he lays them all out atop the nearby stone table and stares at each piece helplessly, unable to so much as guess what the Master wants from him.

“Well?” The Master chooses that moment to prompt softly, and Xiao shrinks back.

“I’m sorry, my lord— I’ve failed to understand your instructions.”

“Are none of those to your liking?”

Xiao scrabbles for an answer the Master will be pleased with. “They— they are. But what do you wish me to do with them?”

“Ah,” the Master says slowly, head dropping a fraction, and Xiao suddenly wishes he could see his face, even at the price of the Master seeing Xiao’s body in return. “I see. Then… my orders are that you choose at least five of those items with which to suitably clothe yourself, as a gift from me. Saizhen’s cursed armor will never be a part of you again.”

Orders. It does not matter that Xiao cannot understand why the Master would do such a thing for him, not when this is the clearest command he has received all night. Turning back to the table, his eyes land again on the short gray over-robe, and he hesitantly rubs the sturdy fabric between his fingers. It will do.

Five choices seem like far too many, but after the robe, Xiao eventually lands on a sleeveless white shirt that crosses over his chest, a sash the color of the waters of Luhua, loose black pants that cinch at the ankles and high on his waist, and dark, armored gloves that cover his fingers and reach to his upper arm. Only his face, neck, and feet remain uncovered, but Xiao still feels strangely exposed.

“I’ve finished, my lord,” He murmurs, still halfway lost in the softness of the fabric over his skin. “What would you like me to do next?”

“Wonderful,” the Master says, and there’s something in his voice that falls over Xiao like the first warm light of dawn after a night of steel and blood. “Xiao, will you end your command so I might look at you again?”

…Command?

Don’t look, Xiao remembers his own words with a shudder, and he nods before realizing the Master won’t be able to see it.

“Yes, of course, I— I’m sorry, my lord, I never should have—” Xiao starts, but the Master interrupts him.

“You followed the rules of our short contract, and apologies are therefore unnecessary.” Bare feet draw closer, and, with the light of the moon behind him, the Master’s shadow falls partway over Xiao’s face. “Beyond that, you followed my order and made choices for yourself— and though my approval does not matter here, I believe these new clothes suit you quite well, Xiao. Already, I see the burden upon your spirit lifting.” He pauses. “But there is one more matter that must be addressed tonight.”

Warm relief that the Master is pleased suddenly freezes over, and Xiao stills with it.

“Will you bring forth your weapon for me?”

With shaking hands, Xiao does, forcing down the bloodlust that always forms with the blade. The Master takes it from his hands and holds it to the light.

“This is a spear infused by Saizhen’s own essence, is it not?” The Master turns his piercing gaze on Xiao, and Xiao can barely breathe beneath its weight.

“Yes. I was his weapon, and he would not permit any tool that was not a part of him.”

“…I understand,” the Master says, dangerously soft. “Then you have little attachment to this blade and all it represents.”

Xiao hesitates. Speaks. “No, my lord. It is merely the weapon of a weapon.”

The Master nods. “And you will need it no longer.”

Then his power blazes bright, and Xiao stumbles back under the throbbing force of it. Through narrowed eyes, he can see the spear glowing hotter and hotter in the Master’s hands, its violent whispers now at pitched shriek—

And then the blade shatters, spilling an overflow of divine power and crumbling in golden fragments back to the Ley.

The voice in Xiao’s head is… silent.

He shakes himself, once, twice. The hissing urge to fight and kill and win; the dark tendrils of need that had stretched down Xiao’s fingertips and strained constant at his muscles and bones; the call for war that he can’t remember living without— all erased. Xiao had lost half of who he was when his Heart was unchained, and now that the pull of nightmares and blood and death is gone too…

If the Master’s goal is to break Xiao down and reshape him however he likes, then he has succeeded entirely.

Crumpling into the grass at the Master’s feet, passive and empty, Xiao waits as he always does, ready to accept whatever the Master desires of him.

He expects a command, or a strike, or perhaps even to be left there alone, but instead, the Master— the Master is—

Gently glowing hands rise and cup lightly around Xiao’s cheeks and jaw, apparently uncaring of the ugly, corrosive veins that tangle thickest there; amber eyes quietly search Xiao’s face, then meet his gaze as if equals; and the dry press of a kiss lands on Xiao’s forehead and leaves behind a warm, pulsing mark of geo.

The Master kneels before him, a glowing green spear in his outstretched hands, and Xiao takes it as if in a dream, weightless and shaking.

“This is the Jade-Winged Spear, one of a pair of weapons forged near the beginning of time, a peerless work of art that shapes itself to the wielder’s hand. I can make little use of it, but I believe it will serve you well as a blade untarnished by the power of any one god, spirit, or mortal.”

The spear flickers out of Xiao’s grasp, light and easy, and returns to his hands like the solemn, clear strike of a bell. There is no rising hunger, no battle of wills, no haze in his mind.

Senseless tears drip from Xiao’s chin and sink into the ground below.

“By the bond of our contract, I ask you to become a yaksha, a guardian of Liyue who will watch over her people as she walks forward into a new age. Use your power to protect, to bring justice, to carve a path of life.” With a light touch, the Master wipes the tears from Xiao’s skin. “And as for new orders… I ask you to spend your next days resting, wandering, exploring, healing, or finding ways to see the world in a new light. No one will track where you go or spy upon what you do, and in turn, I trust you will honor the promises of our contract.”

The Master stands, and, at his gesture, so does Xiao. Two fingers brush over the mark on Xiao’s forehead, then fall away as the Master steps back.

“You bear my seal and are under my protection; and by the authority of the Geo Archon, none will be permitted to threaten or turn you away for your origins.”

Then… the Master smiles, a gentle curve that softens his eyes and wipes away any lingering doubt as to his favor. “Rest well, Xiao. We will meet again soon.”

He turns, vanishing in a flicker of gold and leaving Xiao standing alone beside a suddenly empty table with nothing but the shush of wind to break the stillness.

The Master has been generous beyond measure, has given Xiao a new name and purpose and life, and Xiao dares to allow the tiniest spark of hope that this Archon will not be one to destroy his Heart any further. Still, he aches, now that the touch of the Master’s kindness has brought back reminders of Aether’s singular, shining goodness and Xiao’s terrible curse and betrayal.

Leaping smoothly back over the lake, Xiao digs into the pile of his old armor and uncovers the flute and pendant with unsteady fingers. He wants to play, to cry his song of sorrow and longing over the wilds of Jueyun Karst, but— no. Though the Master might be gone, Cloud Retainer remains nearby, and Xiao would be a fool to announce his secrets to the world.

Both objects end up tucked carefully into the folds of his sash, safe against his body once more, and Xiao stands at the mountain peak until dawn, staring out over the familiar valley not-so-far away and thinking of nothing at all.

Notes:

Catch me gettin my ass handed to me by Maguu Kenki over in Genshin canon--

Chapter 10: Empty Box, Filling Cup

Notes:

Shorter chapter this time, sorry :/
Still trying to figure out what i'm doing with the plot lol

Aether wakes with a raw, heaving gasp, eyes opening to rays of sunlight through a window and an empty room.

…Perhaps “wakes” isn’t the right word for it. After all, Aether hasn’t truly slept since the moment Alatus left him behind, and even in those rare moments he manages to slip into darkness, the demons of his nightmares promptly chase him right back out again. He wonders if his eternity in the dream prism will ever stop haunting him.

Aether looks around, slow and painful. He’s still in the pharmacy, then, going on his third day; still bedridden and almost too weak to breathe. The herbalist in charge of his care had marveled at Aether’s survival, and if Aether hadn’t felt the fading traces of Alatus’s— no, Xiao’s— power in his veins, he would have thought much the same.

Herbalist Kian chooses that moment to walk in, a familiar clay bowl in his hands and a troubled expression on his face.

“Ah, you are awake, then.” The bowl is set on the side table with a clack, and Kian leans in to feel the pulse at Aether’s bone-thin wrist. “I heard— you were screaming just a moment ago. Are… you alright, Aether?”

With the state Aether is in, they both know the answer to that question already, but he appreciates the herbalist’s care nonetheless.

“I’ll manage,” Aether rasps.

“You really need to sleep, you know,” Kian says quietly. “Recovery might still be possible, but like this… your body will have trouble handling the treatments without proper rest.”

Aether knows, oh, how he does, but though he’s genuinely tried to sleep, out of ignorance on the first night and desperation on the second, his mind simply can’t seem to quiet itself anymore. Even just closing his eyes brings him a little too close to the blinding darkness of the dream prism for comfort.

Kian sighs and lifts the medicine bowl to Aether’s lips. “Here.”

Aether swallows the bitter slime without complaint, because even if sleep is impossible, for Kian’s peace of mind, he can at least do this. With a cough that leaves him lightheaded and dizzy, Aether turns his face away from the sunlit window. If he can’t close his eyes, then this is the next best thing.

“I’ll bring you some light broth later, but until then, you need to rest and let your stomach do its work.” Kian stands. “I am glad to see you so responsive today, though. When I first found you… well. Nevermind.”

Such delicate words for Aether’s brush with death. But that reminds him…

“Ah, Kian… did you… when you picked me up… was there anyone with me? Or nearby?”

“Hm?” Kian looks back at him with a concerned tilt of his head. “No, you were alone. Was there meant to be someone?”

“I… see,” Aether says. It had been a long shot anyway, after Xiao’s final words to him. “No, I guess not.”

“…Right,” Kian says slowly. “Well, I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t thrash your way out of bed again.”

“That was… a mistake,” Aether rasps, petulant. “I didn’t know where I was.”

Kian smiles a little at that. “I know. Just trying to lighten the mood a bit. Sleep well, Aether.”

Aether definitely won’t, but it’s nice of Kian to say it. He nods, and with a final glance back, Kian leaves.

Once he’s alone again, Aether starts to take stock of his own body. He’s in pain, of course, a gnawing ache that feels as if it will never leave his bones, but that’s nothing new. Every movement leaves him breathless and makes the room spin, and Aether wonders exactly how long he was trapped in the dream prism, for what’s left of his muscles to have atrophied this far on top of consuming themselves for survival. Worst of all, though, is the new void in his chest where the comfort of Xiao’s presence had once sat— a void that is one of Aether’s greatest nightmares come true.

I no longer have any need of you, Aether. Xiao’s voice, flat and wavering, clangs about in Aether’s ears. I no longer need you. I don’t need you.

Aether chokes on his next breath and regrets it instantly as he gasps to recover it, but it’s hard to ignore the empty, stabbing pain in his heart. If he had to guess, he would say that Xiao has left Aether here for his own safety, to protect him from the attention of whatever god Xiao serves now— but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Aether fights not to let his exhausted eyes slip shut. He is once again alone in Teyvat, without Lumine by his side, and abandoned by the person he’d thought he could call a friend. Even the few belongings he’d had at his camp are probably long destroyed by the God of Dreams. All he has left is his feathered earring, the hairclip Lumine had once gifted him, and the beautiful, terrible white blossoms Xiao had so cruelly returned to him that night.

Even through his eternity of travel over the sprawl of the universe, Aether has never before been quite so bereft of… well, everything. His years in the valley were hard enough. With neither Lumine nor Xiao to ground him in the present, and the energy that had once buoyed him now mostly comprised of the last fragments Xiao had poured into his core… he breathes a bitter laugh. It won’t be a swift fade, even like this, and of course those things that can kill immortals would never let them slip away so peacefully.

Based on his remaining energy alone, Aether guesses he has a millennium or so left to live, perhaps two if he’s careful. Once he recovers, he’ll just have to make the most of what time he has left; and maybe, just maybe, if the universe is kind enough— he’ll be able to see Xiao one last time before he goes.

--

Over the next days, Aether drinks more thin soups and sour medicines than he can count, but herbalist Kian must know what he’s doing, because Aether’s body slowly begins to recover.

He’s constantly exhausted now, of course; a hazy, grayed existence interrupted by unavoidable snatches of unconsciousness. But as long as the nightmares can’t reach him, it really doesn’t matter.

A few weeks into his time at the pharmacy, Aether is finally strong enough to get out of bed and walk short distances— enough to at least relieve himself and fetch his own food. He’s more than happy to be moving around again, but with nowhere to go and nothing to do, he’s still adrift. In the end, Aether mindlessly wanders the short space between the patient ward and pharmacy lobby until Kian (rightfully) loses his patience and sets him to a handful of menial tasks behind the scenes instead.

Aether sorts herbs and grinds medicines, graduates from broth and juice to soup and bread, and leaves the pharmacy long enough to walk around the courtyard and soak up the sun. Kian seems pleased with his progress, though he never gives up on trying to convince Aether to sleep.

Soon, Aether is able to safely take a bath on his own again— a task he needs no convincing to undertake— and he changes from the thin patient’s clothes to the outfit Kian has generously bought for him. A simple cream-colored robe over long black pants covers Aether from neck to hands to ankles and hides most of his ruined, gaunt body. He’s incredibly grateful for Kian’s thoughtfulness.

Now that he spends more time out of bed than in, Aether can also finally braid his hair and wear his hairclip and earring again. It’s not as if his last three possessions in life haven’t been in a tray at his bedside all this time, but still, he’s missed them. As for the flower, the one Kian says is called “qingxin”… Aether leaves it in the tray, neither able to carry it with him nor throw it away.

To repay Kian for the clothes and treatments, Aether takes to working the front of the pharmacy for a few hours a day, or whenever Kian or the other herbalist, Shufeng, need to make house calls or run errands. It’s a peaceful job, and even with Aether’s limited experience with the medicines and practices of Teyvat, he is able to solve most visitors’ problems without much trouble.

During his time off, Aether spends a lot of time walking through the ornamental gardens of an area he’s learned is called Yujing Terrace. The population of this country seems to be largely made up of people with dark hair and darker eyes, so Aether’s blond hair tends to draw more than a few stares when he goes out. Not enough to be concerning, but enough to know that he will never truly be able to fit in with the people of Liyue as he is.

It’s on one of these walks that Aether’s eye happens to catch on a spot of glassy water in the pond beside him, and he pauses in his steps. Slowly, he reaches up to brush his fingers over the ridge of his cheekbone.

He’s looked like this before, he knows, in other worlds and other ages— and probably even during his time in Nantianmen— but the dullness of his once-shining hair, the prominence of every bone in his face, and his sunken, shadowed eyes still surprise him. It certainly isn’t… pleasant to look at.

Aether wouldn’t say he’s proud of his appearance, exactly— though he’s always cared about it more than Lumine— but what he’s seeing now makes him more thankful than ever that his clothes hide most of the rest of his body. It’s fine. Xiao isn’t here to look at him— no, don’t think about that— Kian and all the others in the pharmacy handle far worse things than Aether’s body every day, and none of the people of the city are likely to see him again for more than passing moments. It’s fine. He’s just being stupid.

When Kian later asks Aether why he’s been so down, Aether can only avert his eyes and shake his head before turning in early for the night.

--

When Aether is well enough to eat full meals and take on errands around the city for the pharmacy, he knows it’s finally time— he’ll have to figure out what he wants to do for his future. Working for Kian and Shufeng is great, but the pharmacy already has a few part-time workers, and most of what Aether does now is just meant to keep him busy. If he wants more consistent work and enough money to live on, he’ll have to find a different job.

Fortunately, Kian is more than happy to provide Aether with references when he asks.

“Let’s see…” Kian says as he flips through a stack of notes. “There’s always farm work just outside the city, although while your body is still recovering, I wouldn’t recommend it. A job at the docks would be much the same. Ah, I do have a notice here for more civil service workers… but that might be a bit much for you since you’re still new to the city. Hmm.”

“Is there anything that will let me… well, allow me to interact with the people of this city while still staying mostly out of the way?” Aether asks hesitantly.

Kian raises an eyebrow. “…Forgive me for saying so, but you’re a rather strange person, Aether.”

If only Kian knew the full extent of that strangeness. Aether laughs. “I suppose you’re not wrong.”

“Hm. Well, my sister’s friend has just opened a teashop along the road to Liyue and has been looking for a few more servers if that’s something you’re interested in. It’s about a half an hour on foot past the west gate though, which might be a little farther out than you’d like…”

“No,” Aether says, straightening. “No, that sounds perfect.” A calm, rural place that will still see enough travelers for him to keep up to date on the news of Liyue, and allow him to live in relative obscurity to hide his immortality? It’s almost too good to be true.

“I’ll put in a word for you then. Would you like me to ask if there’s a place for you to stay out there while I’m at it?”

“I’d be grateful,” Aether says with a proper bow, fist to palm before his chest the way he’s seen people on the streets do.

“Oh!” Kian looks surprised, but pleased, and he bows in return. “Rest well then, Aether. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you, Kian,” Aether makes sure to say. No matter how many countries he visits and people he meets, this sort of kindness is always rather healing to encounter. And besides, now that Xiao is gone… Kian may very well be Aether’s only ally in this world.

Notes:

As someone with long hair, you don't get a braid like Aether's everyday by not caring about how you look lol

Thanks for reading! <3

Chapter 11: Gold and Shadow

Notes:

Welcome to another chapter of "Aether does domestic things in rural Liyue" aka "Oh god not another OC" aka "I still don't understand my own plot"-

 

I'm sorry I don't respond to everything but just know the comments I got on the last chapter had me screaming all week, you know who you are

Aether’s new boss at the teashop is a woman so tall that she’d had the doorframes and ceilings of her shop custom-built to be higher, and she still has to duck when she enters any room. It had been mildly intimidating at first to tilt his head so far back in order to look her in the eye, but Ganzhi is also as calm and gentle as the morning sea breeze, and any of Aether’s remaining apprehension had soon faded away.

Now he accepts a loaded tray from her to take out to the front, and she smiles and pats a large hand on his shoulder. “Once you’re done for the day, come see me before you go home. I have leftovers for you.”

“Ah, thank you, Miss Ganzhi, but I—”

“No arguments. The herbalist said you need to eat balanced meals, and there’s no point in letting extra food go to waste.”

It’s as if trying to argue with a steel wall of kindness. “…Then, thank you.”

“There you go, my dear,” Ganzhi says with a smile. “I’m not working you too hard, am I? You always seem so tired with those shadows under your eyes.”

“Ah, that… I guess I just don’t sleep much anymore. Don’t worry about me, Miss Ganzhi, I can take care of myself.”

“I hope so, dear.”

--

Business at the teashop picks up.

It seems that whatever war had been ravaging Liyue had ended right around the time Xiao had brought Aether to the harbor— those events are probably connected, now that he thinks about it— and the people of Liyue are now mostly free to travel and wander as they please beyond the safe walls of the city.

Aether serves merchants and mercenaries, pilgrims and adventurers, soldiers and farmers. Each day he comes to the shop early— any excuse not to sleep— to clean and prepare for guests, and though he tries to work longer, Ganzhi insists that he return home each day just after the midday meal. He’ll have to find some other way of occupying himself.

It’s a far more peaceful life than he ever could have expected, after all that’s happened, and he settles into the idle domesticity of it with little trouble. If his heart still feels achingly empty whenever his mind stills for even a moment… he knows better than to indulge it.

Eventually, Ganzhi sets him to actually brewing tea and baking the cakes to serve to customers, so Aether spends a few hours of each day with his hands dusted in flour and his nose filled with the potent scents of different tea blends. The myriad of skills he’s picked up in other worlds serve him well here, and his sweets and pastries in particular become mildly famous among visitors to the teashop.

“Where did you learn how do this?” Ganzhi asks with astonishment as she cups an iced chrysanthemum cake in her hands.

Aether had been taught by a crabby old woman centuries ago, and slowly honed his skill since then, but he can’t exactly tell her that. “I had a very good teacher, once,” he laughs mildly. “Even I’m surprised I can still do this.”

“Incredible… well, I suppose I’ll leave most of this to you from now on. The teashop has never gotten such wonderful business.”

And Aether nods in agreement. There’s always the concern of attracting too much notice, but as long as he stays in the back and the teashop itself bears the weight of his fame, he’s more than happy to do this small thing for Ganzhi.

--

A year passes, then two, smooth as a river over tumbling stones.

Aether is well-settled into his routine now: spend the night failing to sleep, go to the teashop before the sun rises, get scolded by Ganzhi for failing to rest, bake sweets and teacakes until the shop opens, quietly serve customers until the sun is high overhead, then return home. The rest of the day is usually occupied by chores and tending to his small garden; but once a week, Aether walks down to the harbor to shop or run errands for Ganzhi.

It is during one of these visits that Aether hears word of a new festival coming to Liyue Harbor.

“Now that the Qixing are established and the last of the old gods have been defeated by Rex Lapis, they say our Archon is planning to come down to the city itself!” A merchant informs Aether with great excitement. “I, for one, think this will be a great boon to Liyue’s businesses and people. Not only will Rex Lapis be there to give us divine guidance, but the event will attract people from all over Teyvat! Ah, I can’t wait.”

“I guess I’ll look forward to it,” Aether says carefully.

“You should! And don’t forget to visit my stall once the celebrations begin,” the merchant adds with a wink.

The Geo Archon, Rex Lapis, Morax, Exuvia… the god of this land seems to have no shortage of names, but to Aether, all that matters is that he is most likely the “new master” Xiao had spoken of in their last moments together.

If the Geo Archon really is going to visit Liyue Harbor, it might be Aether’s best chance to investigate and find out more about Xiao— or at least make sure he is safe and cared for under this new god. On the other hand, a huge and divinely inspired festival is likely to attract any number of important figures or other immortals whom Aether would really, really like to avoid. Will the crowds be enough to hide one powerless not-quite-human from searching eyes? He doesn’t know.

After his shopping is done, Aether trots across the city to visit the pharmacy, where Kian has insisted he stop for regular check-ups.

“Well… you’re still a little too thin, but this is about as recovered as you’ll ever be without proper sleep,” Kian says once he’s done with his inspection. “Still, I can’t recommend anything especially strenuous for you as long as you’re in this condition. No battle or sprints across Liyue for you, young man.”

Young man. Aether wonders if things would be easier if he really was.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he laughs. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Kian.”

“It was only my job,” Kian says with a bow, “and besides that, you were a rather pleasant patient to help, compared to many of my other charges. I wish you luck in the future, Aether. May the Geo Archon guide your steps, and I hope I will meet you again under less… unfortunate circumstances.”

“I hope the same,” Aether returns the bow. “Perhaps you could stop by our teashop sometime?”

“Maybe I will, maybe I will.”

Kian waves his goodbyes from the top of the pharmacy steps as Aether leaves, and then… it’s over. His body is healed, his home and job are secure for the future, and he has no shortage of human company to keep himself sane. Once the Rite of Descension arrives and Aether can finally meet the Geo Archon, he has no other plans.

Is this it? Waiting in rural tranquility until Lumine either makes a sudden appearance— or he dies?

…After everything Aether has endured and lost (and lost, and lost), perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad way to go after all.

--

The morning of the Rite dawns bright and cloudless, and Ganzhi makes the executive decision to close the teashop for the day so she and all her employees can join in the festivities.

Mostly by coincidence, Aether travels down to the Harbor at her side, but he doesn’t mind the quiet company.

“You know, you don’t seem as excited for this as I thought you might,” Ganzhi says, her eyes never straying from the path ahead. “Seeing as how you always seem to enjoy learning about the facets of Liyue’s culture and history at the teashop.”

She’s too perceptive for her own good. Aether shakes his head. “That… there’s something I need to do at the Rite, and I’m not so sure I’ll like what I find.”

Ganzhi at last turns to regard him thoughtfully. “Another ghost from your past then? Oh, don’t worry, dear, I won’t pry. But you are an awfully mysterious child.”

Aether offers her a weak laugh, but for some reason, he can’t think of anything witty with which to deter her suspicion. Oh well. She’s already made it clear enough that she won’t turn him away from his excessive secret-keeping, and that’s really all he can ask for.

The path grows crowded with eager festival-goers before the two of them can even begin crossing the bridge into Liyue, and the atmosphere is so infectious that even Aether begins to feel the thrill. Ganzhi, of course, has plenty of other friends and family members to spend time with during the celebration, so she and Aether part ways once inside the city. If their itineraries for the day line up, maybe they’ll be able to walk back together.

A handful of mora leftover from Aether’s last payday jingles enticingly in his pocket, and he forces himself to take a deep breath and relax. He’s wearing a loose, hooded cloak over his usual robes to hide his hair, the crowds are buzzing and utterly disinterested in a lone traveler drifting in their midst, and the whole of Liyue is gathered here in all her glory, the perfect opportunity for Aether to expand his knowledge of this land even more. As long as he remains alert, it’ll be fine to enjoy himself a little before the main event of the Rite begins.

After a quick stop to buy a handful of candies for his walk, Aether dives into the heart of the festival. He pauses to watch a complex performance made half of puppets and half of human actors; and wins a small necklace at a puzzle game. A woman pulls him in for a quick twirl of her acrobatic dance, the hydro Vision at her hip adding sparkling accents to her every move. A stall exploding with floral displays draws Aether in, and he’s just considering buying Ganzhi a souvenir bouquet of glaze lily and snowdrop when his eye catches on a row of potted qingxin, glowing innocently in the light of the paper window behind them.

Aether breathes out slow. He can tell himself he’s obeying Xiao’s wishes and moving on as much as he wants, but he’s fairly certain he’ll never be able to see these particular flowers in a normal light ever again. Though the fact that his own dried qingxin still sits, untouched, in a box on his bedside table is probably already enough proof of that.

He leaves without buying anything.

Idle wandering takes Aether down to the harbor boardwalks, where the salty breeze stings his eyes and threatens to push back his hood. The bustle of the city is a little quieter here though, so it’s a trade worth making.

It seems he’s not the only one who’s thought so. When he looks farther down the path, he notices a woman slumped onto the wooden railing, a flower from her elaborate hairpiece dangling precariously from its clip. Two glossy red objects curve from her blue-tinted hair, apparently a part of the hair decorations, but as Aether draws closer, he realizes— they’re horns.

She’s not human, then, at the very least. Aether still hasn’t familiarized himself with the many and varied divines of Liyue, but he knows enough to at least make a guess. And if that guess is correct, then she’s also an immortal, and Aether needs to get out of here before she can see his face.

He turns, a little too fast, and his foot lands heavy on the wooden deck.

“Oh,” The woman gasps quietly from behind. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep here, you don’t have to leave.”

Her voice is high and soft, her features graceful, her aura misted with gentleness. Aether can’t let down his guard.

“That’s alright,” he says carefully, glancing back at her from underneath his hood. “I was just on my way out anyway.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry,” she stutters. “Would you perhaps—?”

She takes a step toward him and Aether flinches. He’s already been here too long.

With a hasty bow in her direction, he very nearly runs off the boardwalk and down toward the docks— there’s no way he doesn’t look suspicious at this speed, but he’s too on-edge to control it.

“Wait!”

He hears the cry behind him, but he doesn’t so much as pause in his stride, and he only manages to relax once he’s firmly lost among the festival crowds once again.

Perhaps if he weren’t an immortal, or if he’d had his powers to protect himself… but there’s no point in wishing now. He’ll just count himself lucky that avoiding divines is the hardest thing he has to do these days.

--

As the sun creeps closer to its zenith, Aether makes his way up to the Yujing Terrace plaza to secure a good viewing spot before the Rite begins. The area is already crowded, and he can’t imagine how much worse it will be once the entire population of Liyue is crammed in here, but for now, he’s comfortable enough on a short ledge at the perimeter.

Slowly, the plaza fills, and Aether sweats more and more under his dark cloak. The dry season in Liyue is always hot, but this is probably the worst he’s experienced so far. He hopes the Rite starts soon.

As if on cue, a heralding trumpet call rings through the air, and the whole crowd stills, attention centering on the luxurious offering display for Rex Lapis in the middle of the plaza. Aether stands on tiptoe to see over the shoulders of his neighbors, and like that, he can just make out a parade of people dressed in their glittering finest lining up around the offering table. This must be the Liyue Qixing, then.

A woman with long, dark hair and a pyro Vision at her throat steps forward, but Aether barely registers it, focused as he suddenly is on the short woman with red horns near the back of the group. So, she’s not just an immortal, but also one of the Qixing? Aether suppresses a shiver. Avoiding her had been the right call.

“—and blessings from the Archon upon Liyue’s future!” The first woman is saying, the sort of honorary speech that Aether has heard a thousand times in a thousand different worlds; has given a thousand times of his own. But it’s over, and now the real Rite of Descension can begin.

Aether holds his breath as a flame sparks to life in the woman’s hands, then bursts in a shower of embers to light up the censer before her.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then the sky opens up in a thundering crash, bright clouds rapidly spiraling overhead as an enormous golden dragon plunges down from above. A few screams echo through the crowd, but most seem to be stunned into silence, and Aether doesn’t blame them. The dragon— no, Rex Lapis— bends his great head to the gathered Qixing, then coils himself neatly around the offering table, a commanding presence that can’t be ignored. He appears nothing but strong and graceful, but first impressions mean little, especially when coming from gods who’ve had thousands of years to perfect them.

A few of the Qixing begin to speak with the Archon, but Aether tunes them out in favor of reaching deep into his own core for one of his last lingering powers. Though nowhere as near strong as it was before he was cast down to Teyvat, he still has his ability to read other’s souls, and it is this skill he now aims at Rex Lapis’s brilliant presence.

The first thing he sees is that Rex Lapis is old. Nowhere near as old as Aether, of course, but seeing as Aether has been around from the beginning of, well— just about everything— he doesn’t even count himself anymore. Still, where Xiao had survived perhaps a millennium, Rex Lapis seems near as old as the stones of Teyvat themselves. Is he eight thousand years? More?

Aether doesn’t have long to wonder over it, because the next thing that washes over him is a deep, enduring melancholy, the kind that can only come of loving and losing, of heartbreak over life. It is the same heartbreak that Aether himself bears, and it is not the pain of a god who does not care for those he rules and serves.

Then comes old regret and the sweetness of good memories, distant worry and present pride, like that of a master to her apprentice, or a father to his children. Rex Lapis has built himself a soul that shines a radiant gold, scarred by immortality and sculpted by time. Its edges are soft, but its core is unyielding, faithful.

Aether’s powers may be weak, but this god is, without a shadow of a doubt, good.

Panting, hands shaking, Aether releases his death grip on the scraps of his own energy and shivers when the last warm touch of Rex Lapis’s soul fades from his senses. Liyue will prosper under this Archon— but more importantly, Xiao is safe and will surely be well cared for.

The last of Aether’s fear fades away, and is promptly replaced by a gut-wrenching ache, the knowledge that he truly has no reason to seek Xiao out anymore, that Xiao will never need him again.

And Aether is endlessly relieved to know that Xiao can finally rest; happy, even, but… where Lumine had always fallen into love like a storm, fast and bright and passionate, Aether’s heart moves like a glacier, slow and patient, only warming when it reaches the sea. He doesn’t melt often, so to lose one of his loves like this— it is a hurt that cuts down to his soul.

Muttering apologies as he pushes his way through the still-entranced crowd, Aether stumbles on weak legs out of the plaza and away down the nearly empty streets. It’s stupid, he knows, when he and Xiao had been little more than companions during a time of life or death, and his own feelings for Xiao had barely even sprouted before the appearance of the God of Dreams effectively ripped them out from the root. Aether would be a fool to linger on these emotions any longer.

…A fool.

He leaves the fragments of his heart and hopes scattered out on the cobblestones behind him.

--

“You look tired, dear,” Ganzhi tells Aether the next morning at the teashop.

Given his perpetual state of sharp-boned, eye-bruised exhaustion these days, he must truly look awful for her to be saying something now. It’s not exactly unexpected though, after his long night of sleepless, churning thoughts.

“Do I?” Aether sighs. “I feel fine”— which is a lie, but probably not for the reasons Ganzhi will be thinking— “and serving customers shouldn’t be a problem.”

For a long moment, she just stands there, studying him. “At the Rite yesterday… did you find the closure you were looking for?”

Hah. Or perhaps there’s no deceiving her after all.

“In a way,” he says, because that’s true enough, no matter how much he wishes the answer had been different. “But… you’d be helping me more if you let me keep working, Miss Ganzhi.”

She hums softly. “I see. Well, I suddenly feel like doing nothing but taking customer orders today, so we’re short a person to brew tea and bake sweets. I’ll just have to leave that to you, my dear.”

Aether doesn’t deserve the care of such a wonderful person as Ganzhi. He bows his head. “Thank you.”

Notes:

<3

Chapter 12: First Thread: Hourglass

Notes:

God, I'm so pretentious.

So for the next... four or five chapters, not quite sure yet, there will be alternating POV of the events of the next 2000 years. Kinda like a drawn-out montage I guess. This is the first time I've tried this technique over such a long period of time while trying to keep everything chronological and coherent, so.... *fingers crossed*

The shuttle slides back over the threads. The frame clacks into place. Time moves on, warp and weft, unstoppable, and Fate’s hands dance skillfully across her weave.

Her plan is in motion once more, and she will always have her way in the end.

-*-

Liyue Harbor grows like wildfire, spilling over the mountains and shore as its wealth only increases, and Ganzhi’s teashop continues to grow with it.

Aether keeps busy— oh-so-carefully busy— helping Ganzhi manage the shop or cooking and cleaning in the background by turns. Their customers come from all over, now— regulars from their tiny rural community, travelers from the harbor, and even visitors from other nations. Quietly, Aether takes it all in, clinging onto every scrap of knowledge about Teyvat or news about Liyue’s divines that he hears.

It is in this way that he hears about the magical statues to be constructed in every nation, representations of the Archons and their power; how he keeps up with important changes to Liyue’s laws or new appointments to the Qixing; and even how he learns the names of the three great adepti assigned to guard Liyue. But no matter how many conversations he eavesdrops upon or questions he asks, there is not so much as a whisper of Xiao, or any adeptus that matches his description.

…It’s probably for the best, but Aether could sooner cut off his own limbs than stop wondering.

The years tick by, and Ganzhi surprises him by one day announcing that she’s adopting two children— a girl named Bachi and a boy named Hanul— and asking him if he would help take care of them. For her, is there any answer other than yes?

Both the babies are cute of course, with chubby cheeks and wide eyes— and screams that manage to echo from one end of the village to the other, but no one talks about that. Aether takes to watching them in the evenings after work, or whenever Ganzhi needs a day off, singing them songs he’s learned on his travels and smiling at their innocent peals of laughter.

But soon the both of them begin to grow, as babies are prone to do— toddling around on unsteady legs, then babbling eager nonsense to anyone who will listen, then helping Aether with their first simple tasks in the teashop kitchen. It only makes Aether more and more aware of his own eternally young appearance, and he wonders how much time he has left before he is forced to leave because of it.

So he subtly packs his things. Searches for a place to stay in the city, at least for a short while. Readies an explanation for Ganzhi. Braces himself for the loneliness to come.

And then— nothing.

Ganzhi approaches him just once, the day Bachi turns fifteen, standing calmly beside him at the railing of the teashop porch as they both watch the birthday party wind down.

“You’ve been with us an awfully long time,” she says, not a trace of accusation in her voice, and Aether nods. Immortality aside, he’s the only one beside Ganzhi herself who has worked at the shop from its inception.

“If you don’t particularly feel like answering me, you don’t have to, but… you wouldn’t happen to be an adeptus, would you, dear?”

If only he was. Then maybe he could’ve stayed with… no, he can’t think about that.

“I’m not,” Aether says with a laugh that comes out more like a sigh. “But you don’t have to worry, Miss Ganzhi. I’m not here to cause any trouble, or— or put your family in danger.”

“Oh goodness, I wasn’t worried about that at all, dear.” Slowly, carefully, she lays a hand on Aether’s arm. “Rather, is there anything I can do to help you?”

“You’re too good to me, Miss Ganzhi.” Aether does his best to smile up at her. “I just want a peaceful place to stay until… well. Until it’s time to go.”

Ganzhi hums softly. “I can certainly do that for you.”

Then she lets go of the railing and Aether’s arm and returns to the party, bidding the attendees a good night as they leave.

They never speak of it again, but somehow… something has changed. Bachi and Hanul probably have more reason than anyone to have noticed and questioned Aether’s unchanging face, but though they occasionally give him curious looks, they never say a thing. Passing travelers are one thing, but repeat customers have certainly seen enough of Aether over the years to know that something is different, yet they remain as silent and unsuspicious as ever. And of course, there are the residents of the village who see Aether walking to and from the shop near every day, yet greet him as they always have.

It seems impossible, but— are the people of Liyue just like this? Are immortals or divines so common and revered in this land that no one thinks Aether is strange? Or has Ganzhi managed to lay some kind of all-powerful spell over the teashop to protect him? Aether doesn’t know, but this sort of wordless trust toward an unknown power like him is…

Well. It’s not life-changing, exactly, but it fills his chest with the sort of warmth he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

--

Xiao buries himself in his duties, barely pausing for breath, never mind a rest as he endlessly combs over the land in search of any darkness that might threaten Liyue.

Truthfully, the Master had only commanded him to do such patrols a few times each lunar cycle, but even if Xiao had not devoted his entire being to the Master’s service, work is the only thing that keeps thoughts of Aether from creeping up to the surface. And if he wants to stop himself from trying to find Aether— from doing something that cannot be undone— he must keep them at bay.

So though on most nights he finds nothing at all, Xiao keeps going, spear in his hand and moonlight at his back. It’s the only thing he can do.

 

Sometimes the Master sends him… invitations, he thinks, scraps of spell paper that can find Xiao no matter where he roams. The messages contained within are strange.

I plan to host a banquet in celebration of the first Rite of Descension, one reads. Will you not join us? The invitation is gracious and welcoming, and cannot be meant for Xiao at all. He ignores it.

The harvest season blessing approaches, and every adeptus without urgent duties to attend to is invited. Your power would surely be a welcome addition, says the next. But Xiao’s strength is made for war and destruction, not blessings, and surely the Master knows it. Most likely, he is simply adhering to the formalities of the event, and though Xiao studies the message many times over, it does not seem to be an order. He does not go.

Then more messages trickle in, ones that bear his name and cannot be mistaken. Cloud Retainer has prepared a feast for our meeting at her abode, and you are welcome to join us, Xiao, and If you are not otherwise occupied, Xiao, you are invited to join the adepti at the hot springs beneath Aocang for some relaxation, and I am preparing an entourage of adepti to tour Liyue Harbor for me, and I hope to see you join them, Xiao.

Xiao reads them over and over, stares at the flowing text as if doing so could reveal their true meaning, but to no avail. What is the Master thinking? Surely this many missives cannot be mere formality or mistaken address, but why attempt to bring Xiao to such… frivolous events?

Perhaps the Master simply does not understand how dangerous Xiao’s very existence is, both to himself and others, or how deep Xiao’s debt to him runs. If he continues to ignore the unimportant messages, the Master will exhaust his courtesy to Xiao and things will return to the way they should be.

…The invitations keep coming.

The next spell paper is a full scroll, complete with decorative endings and the Master’s symbol stamped into the seal. Dear Xiao, reads the text inside. Moon Carver, Ganyu, and I plan to spend the day together at my home in Jueyun Karst, and we would all be delighted to see you join us. More meaningless pleasures that do not belong to Xiao. He adds it to his growing pile of paper and does not look at it again.

There will be a gathering on Mount Hulao for a few of us to test our skills against each other. If you are so inclined to join us, Xiao, I believe there is much we could learn from each other. Xiao rolls the scroll shut and resists the urge to throw it. Does the Master believe his abilities are lacking? But he has had no complaint with Xiao’s protection of Liyue thus far, does not even seem to be monitoring Xiao’s work at all. When was the last time he met the Master face to face? Nine years ago? Ten? Time always blurs too much for him to tell. Whatever it may be, the longer the better, because if the Master has not appeared to assess Xiao’s performance, then it means he is successfully staying out of the way and not causing the Master any trouble. Good. He needs not respond to this message, then.

But after that— I must admit I am growing concerned for your wellbeing, Xiao. Though I do not mind your wanderings, it would also ease my heart to see you, even just for a greeting. If you receive this message, would you perhaps join me at my home for a meal and a night of rest? Xiao crouches in the snow to read the scroll, then stares out over the howling wilderness of the mountain on which he sits, feeling the last remnants of ice melt numbly away over his tongue. A meal and a night of rest… he wonders if he can do either of those anymore. Wavering, he almost caves to what seems to be the Master’s genuine concern, but— no. As long as the Master remains satisfied with Xiao’s fulfilling of his duties, it is better that he remains in the shadows.

Surely the Master will give up soon.

--

Ganzhi grows old with the inevitable march of time, her long hair graying, her back stooping her closer to Aether’s height, and deep laugh lines forming around her eyes— though the quiet fondness in her gaze when she looks upon Aether never changes.

Hanul takes over the teashop when she finally retires, and, for some baffling, incredible reason, promptly offers ownership to Aether instead. It’s not as if Hanul hates working there or that the teashop isn’t making money, so he must be— he must just be offering such a huge thing for Aether’s sake alone. Of course, Aether turns him down, but though Hanul cheerfully accepts his refusal, he can’t be stopped from adding a provision to the teashop inheritance contract that guarantees Aether a position at the shop for as long as he wants it. It’s… certainly something.

The moment she’s old enough, Bachi leaves their sleepy rural town for Liyue Harbor, where she finds, romances, and marries a well-off boy from a merchant family in under a year. Aether personally thinks it’s a little hasty, but she and her husband are already running a successful trade business and seem to be nothing but madly in love with each other, so he doesn’t get a say.

Ganzhi cries at the wedding, and sitting at her side, Aether swallows around the tight feeling in his own chest. Even now, he still gets too attached to fleeting moral lives for his own good.

Life carries on.

The day Bachi and her husband announce the successful launch of the Feiyun Commerce Guild is the day Ganzhi finally passes on, a smile on her face and Aether and Hanul at her bedside (Bachi practically flies from the harbor once she hears the news, and then the three of them hold vigil around Ganzhi’s body until the last rites can begin. It’s enough. It’s enough.). Near the entire village joins the funeral procession up to the top of a nearby hill, and not a single person leaves until the ash settles and the pyre burns to nothing.

When they return in the evening, Hanul approaches Aether with shining eyes and Ganzhi’s favorite hairpin in his hands.

“Mother said— in her will— she said that if it was alright with you, she wanted to leave you something to remember her by, and I— I want to give you this.”

Aether stares for a moment. The hairpin is Ganzhi’s most prized and possibly most valuable possession, the sort of thing that should become a family heirloom, not be handed off to an immortal who doesn't even belong in the same world.

“But… you’re her son. You or Bachi should keep it,” he says carefully.

Hanul shakes his head. “Maybe so, but you meant something special to her— and to us too. Please just take it, Aether.”

So he does, and the glossy, pearl-inlaid pin finds its new home in a box beside the dried qingxin that Aether has never quite been able to move from his bedside table. For a while he stands frozen, eyes fixed on the box of joy and memories and hurt— then he snaps the lid firmly shut.

With any luck, he won’t have to look into it again for a long, long time.

--

“Xiao, you know Lord Rex won’t… won’t hurt you if you come back and visit him on occasion, right?” Ganyu says softly. “He’s still worried for you.”

She’s cornered him yet again, this time in the shallows of Lingju Pass, the empty stone fortress dominating the landscape behind them. Xiao holds back a weary sigh and turns to face her. He’s learned to stop fearing her visits by now, but even so, he wishes she wouldn’t come— not when she is a replacement for the many paper invitations the Master used to send.

“I— know.” Xiao tells her stiffly, and he does believe it is true— but the agony of Saizhen’s nightmares and scars still resound through his body, so it remains… difficult.

“Alright,” Ganyu sighs. “But if you change your mind, our gatherings are always open. You can join us whenever you like.”

She says the same thing every time, and in return, Xiao nods as he always does.

With a final, strained glance back at him, Ganyu bounds up the cliff and away into the night. Xiao watches her go, familiar unease stirring in his gut.

Somehow he has come to know two (perhaps he could have counted three, once, but he does not deserve such a privilege anymore) beings— first the Master and now Ganyu— who seem to care for him more than they fear or despise or wish to control him. It is far too good to be true.

They must want something from him, insidious or not, but no matter how thoroughly he reads the Master’s old invitations or how closely he studies Ganyu’s aura, he cannot find so much as a hint. Don’t they understand that all they have to do is command, and Xiao would willingly do near anything for them?

--

When Aether invests a portion of his reasonably large savings into the Feiyun Commerce Guild, he is thinking less about money and more about offering Bachi what support he can for her business endeavors. But when the Guild’s power and influence explodes— both in Liyue and across the sea— he suddenly finds himself with an ever-increasing surplus of mora that Bachi won’t let him refuse.

The chest full of gold from her latest delivery sits in his tiny living room, and every time he passes it, Aether can’t help but stare at it with some dismay. Money is nice, of course, a necessity in almost any world, but too much of it always attracts attention— attention he can’t risk.

So. He’ll need to find some way of getting rid of it.

Interestingly enough, it is Hanul that gives Aether an idea of how to use so much mora up, when he mentions that a famous, exclusive class for learning Liyuean tea and entertainment ceremony is accepting students once again. Aether does work in a teashop, even if it isn’t such a fancy one, and he is interested in Liyue’s culture. As long as he’s careful while under the watchful eyes of the city, perhaps…

The woman who greets Aether at the gilt door of the school has high cheekbones and sharp eyes, and he instinctively stands straighter under her gaze.

“State your purpose.”

“I’m here to join your class, Madam,” Aether says, steadily meeting her eyes.

She studies him for a long moment, but she must be satisfied by whatever she finds there, because she nods once and ushers him inside. As they walk, they pass what Aether assumes are the other students of the class, with their many-layered robes, stylized face paints, and elaborate hairstyles. Their eyes follow him, curious and judgmental by turns.

“Your name, please,” is the first thing the Madam says when they enter her office.

“Aether. I have no house or family affiliation.”

“I am Yi’en Feng, but you will continue to refer to me as Madam as long as you remain my student,” she returns. “You are not of noble birth or privileged position, I take it?”

“No.”

“Do you have the mora required to pay the fees for this class?” Yi’en asks, raising a single, pointed brow.

“I do,” Aether nods. “I can bring it with me to the first lesson, or I can have it delivered as soon as I return home.”

“By the first lesson will be sufficient. The fees will cover all costs incurred during your time as a student here, and any additional expenses will be absorbed by the school. This is not, however, an excuse to be wasteful, though as a student not born of an upper house, I trust you will cause no such problems.”

“I understand,” Aether says promptly. “How often will lessons be held?”

Yi’en taps a chart laid out on her desk. “Every day at these times, but you need only attend a minimum of two lessons per week if that is what your schedule allows for.”

“Mm. Then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Very well then. Your first lesson will be a test of your current ability. Do you know anything of Liyuean tea ceremony as of now?”

Aether carefully shakes his head. “Although I work in a teashop, I know little of formal customs involving it.”

“I see. Well, prove your potential to me, and I will be more than happy to teach you this art. I expect to see you again soon, Aether.” Yi’en performs a short, perfect bow, and Aether returns it with all the grace he can muster.

“Thank you, Madam Yi’en. I will return tomorrow.”

Then she leads him out of the dark, incense-clouded hall and back into the sun. Aether blinks in the light. That was… a success? Or at least he hopes it was. He’ll find out tomorrow, he supposes. But as long as he’s here… perhaps he will pay a visit to Kian’s grave before he returns home.

--

After Xiao finds and kills a fourth shade in a single night, he can no longer deny that the situation is growing far more dangerous than just a temporary disruption in the Ley. The land is creaking, the old gods’ wrath echoes from their prisons, and once-suppressed darkness is bubbling up to the surface once again.

It is fortunate that he has endured far worse battles before.

Xiao presses on, faster and deadlier, groaning under the weight of grudges and hatred that have once again begun to heap upon his shoulders. Such is his fate, Xiao reminds himself, and the years of relative peace the Master has granted him were only a generous moment of reprieve in his endless fight.

His Heart, too, disintegrates faster as karma builds, and Xiao… begins to lose time. At first such losses are small— like battling a shade under the blackened skies of Cuijue one moment only to open his eyes on Guili Plains the next, or stalking a ruin in Tianqiu and suddenly finding himself perched upon the roof, staring blankly into the dark sky.

They are troubling interruptions, but nothing Xiao cannot work around if he must.

But then the stretches grow longer, his actions more dangerous. He’ll descend into battle, the agony of his own power tearing through his mind, then come back to himself at the end, the entire field stained with blood and corrosive shadows. Or he’ll draw near to the Harbor at dusk, intending to spend the night guarding it, only to somehow end up far away among the reeds of Dihua Marsh, his nails cutting red crescents into his palms as he struggles to breathe through choking misery.

He’s falling fast.

For now, his cursed powers are formidable enough to keep the rising tide of evil subdued, but the moment they fail— the moment his awareness slips one too many times—

He will have to return to the Master after all, Xiao realizes with empty resignation. Though it has been long delayed, death is his fate. He sees no point in running.

Notes:

<3

Chapter 13: Second Thread: Weakness

Notes:

2.0 CELEBRATION LET'S GOOOOO

TW: Mostly-passive suicidal ideation

Aether may not have been born of nobility, but he has learned more than enough during his eternal travels to keep up with the strict etiquette and social rules required by Liyue’s high society. And after he proves as much to Madam Yi’en, he thrives.

He brews tea with steady hands and immortal patience, paints his face with extra colors to hide the shadows beneath his eyes, keeps his head down and his voice low. He is fully prepared to study tea ceremony for the twenty or more years the others had warned it would take for mastery— but only seven years in, Madam Yi’en selects him for a ceremony to serve the Liyue Qixing themselves. It’s almost unheard of for an apprentice to be chosen for such a thing, but who can argue with the grandmaster herself? Aether goes.

“I will be watching you,” is all Yi’en says before they enter the grand event hall, and Aether opens his mouth to ask her what she means. But then a gong sounds, the doors open, and he has no attention to spare on questions or nerves.

Focused as he is on the tea and his own hands, Aether almost fails to notice the woman with red horns and a dark, glittering robe. He meets her eyes by accident—but though they soften a fraction when she sees him, she shows no sign of recognition. Thank the gods.

Aether moves on from her place as quickly as the ceremony will allow and doesn’t look up again.

Once the meeting has ended, Aether prepares to return to the school, but Yi’en apparently has other plans. Curious, he follows her through the winding back alleys of Feiyun Slope, an area known for tiny, dark shops that bely the fine craftsmen within.

They stop before a window so crammed with pottery and elaborate china that Aether can’t actually see inside, and Yi’en knocks on the door beside.

A middle-aged man with clay-stained hands steps out, a large, gold patterned box already in his hands. “Madam,” he says, holding it out.

Yi’en takes it with a bow, the man steps back inside, and— that’s it. In a distant corner of Aether’s mind, understanding begins to dawn.

Back at the school, Yi’en pulls him into her office, allowing the door to click shut behind them before she turns.

“Congratulations, Master Aether, on your graduation.”

Master? So then—

The gilt box lands heavier than expected in Aether’s hands, and he fumbles to catch it. “…Madam?”

“As I’m sure you may already suspect, I brought you to the Qixing’s event to judge your performance there, and found it without flaw. There is nothing more for me to teach you, although I will refer you to houses where you may make use of your new title if you so wish.” She then gestures to the box. “This is a Jinzi tea set, as given to every graduate from my school. I hope you will use it well, Master Aether.”

Still reeling a little, Aether pulls himself together enough to offer Yi’en a deep bow. “Then— thank you Master Yi’en, for your skilled instruction all these years.”

A tiny smile pulls at her thin lips, the first Aether has truly seen from her. “And I thank you for your passion for this art. I hope you are not disappointed by the lack of a grand ceremony for your graduation,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye.

“Not at all,” Aether manages. “You are— perceptive as always.”

Yi’en nods serenely. “You may take off your robes and paints before you leave. Archon’s blessing upon you, Master Aether. Live well.”

“And you as well, Master Yi’en.”

Undoing the many complex ties and layers of his ceremony robe is muscle memory by now, and in only a few minutes, Aether is back on the road, indistinguishable from the crowd save for the box in his arms. As much as he loves the fine clothing, jewelry, and make-up of his chosen art, it does draw quite a bit of attention when out in public, so it’s always a relief to change back into his cloak and usual rough-spun robes.

The sky is a deep, rusty orange by the time Aether makes it back to the fields and tiny houses of the village he calls home. If he goes to the teashop now, Hanul will probably try to put together a feast to celebrate Aether’s prodigiously early graduation, might even send a message to Bachi and her family to join them. They’d probably be more excited about it than Aether is. He smiles wryly to himself.

As much as he loves them, though, the only person he really wants to tell about his accomplishment is Lumine. Or perhaps…

Aether is tired, elated, lonely. Weak. He caves, just a little.

It is a matter of minutes to heap together a rough pile of stones beside his house, and even less than that to pluck a wild glaze lily and set it on top. He won’t, can’t call Xiao’s name, has no idea if his offering will reach Xiao at all after his rejection of Aether, but it doesn’t matter.

Maybe it’s cheating a little to be an immortal while learning new skills like this, but… I graduated Master Yi’en’s class. I did it. Aether squeezes his eyes shut. The Geo Archon doesn’t stop you from eating now, right? I would’ve liked to serve tea for you, if you’d let me.

His hand slips from the makeshift altar, and he drags himself inside.

I miss you.

--

Xiao fights and fights; pushes his body and Heart and twisted powers to their limits, and then pushes more; roams over every mountain, river, and plain in Liyue every day; spills his own ichor into the dust because he cannot waste even a single second on something as pointless as defending himself— and in the end, it is still not enough.

A single evil spirit slips past Xiao’s failing senses, attacks a caravan of traveling mortals, and slaughters every living being it finds. Lost in the empty darkness of a moment outside of reality, Xiao does not even reach the scene until the bodies are growing stiff and cold. He has broken the contract and failed to protect the Master’s people. His time is up.

Clenching his dark-veined hands to stop their trembling, Xiao cannot help but wonder what the Master will choose to do with him now. Death, of course, that much is certain, but before that… perhaps the Master will have enough kindness left to make Xiao’s end swift and painless. It is all he can hope for.

With crimson still dripping from open wounds and his Heart falling to pieces in his chest, Xiao returns to Jueyun Karst at last.

 

As expected of an Archon’s power, the Master senses Xiao’s approach before he can even clear past the valley mists; and when his feet finally touch the ground upon Mount Hulao, the Master is already waiting for him.

“Xiao!” He calls, loud and— and eager?

But Xiao has no time to puzzle over it, because as the Master draws nearer, his expression rapidly changes— lips turning down, brows pressing together, eyes widening.

“Xiao,” he says again, far different from the first call. “You’re hurt.”

And he is, but— why is the Master mentioning it at all? The wounds are hardly fatal, or even incapacitating, and the agony of his karmic debt is far worse than that of any physical injury. Has the Master not yet heard of the mortals Xiao failed to protect? Does he not see how close Xiao is to falling and becoming a true demon? Or is simply toying with Xiao, dragging out his misery as a punishment of its own?

“It is of no concern,” Xiao tries.

The Master’s face darkens, and Xiao flinches back. Wrong choice.

“To you, perhaps, though that in itself is unacceptable.” Leaning in to press a finger to the mark on Xiao’s forehead, the Master sends a pulse of geo through his body. It scrapes over his veins and down to his bones, and Xiao cannot hold back a choked cry as pure, divine power clashes violently with the corruption within him.

The Master’s hand pulls back at once, and Xiao nearly collapses from the relief of it, though he does not understand the Master’s abrupt change of mind.

“I’m sorry.” The Master’s voice sounds strangely faint. “I did not intend to— no, that is no excuse. I understand, now. Purifying you of Saizhen’s taint then leaving you to drift, forcing you to endlessly fight alone, underestimating the strength of your curse and the rising tide of hatred and evil all across Liyue—” He sighs, slow and heavy. “I had thought, perhaps, that you wanted to be left alone, that you had your own purpose in mind, or that the burden on your body and Heart would lessen without Saizhen’s cruel commands to drive you forward.”

All Xiao had wanted was to serve his kind new Master until the end and ensure that he never caused so much as an inconvenience as he did so. Will the Master look more favorably upon him if he explains himself? Licking dry, cracked lips, Xiao opens his mouth.

“Again, I have failed you,” the Master says before Xiao can so much as make a sound. “And twice is already far too often. This time, I will make a contract upon our contract.”

A bright light flashes, and Xiao cannot help but stare at the gilded scrolls that unfurl in the air between them— one, the first contract he had forged with the Master, and the other…

“Your promise to protect Liyue has been more than fulfilled, but I have done nothing but stand idly by and hope that you would find a new life and purpose on your own. No longer.” Then the Master’s words echo as the new contract blazes with power. “I swear to take the adeptus Xiao under my own wing; to guide, heal, and protect him; to support him in fulfilling his own end of the contract, and to let him go once he chooses to leave.”

Xiao is frozen, unable to tear his eyes from the Master’s deep amber gaze. He can hear the words being spoken, feel the contract settling into the bond between them, but once again, no matter how frantically he attempts to make sense of it… all he can come up with is a desperate confusion. The agony that clouds his mind does nothing to help, and all he wants, all he had returned to the Master for, was to finally rest.

“…Please,” Xiao manages to choke out. “Master. I’m not worth such a contract, not like this. I only came here so you could destroy me before I become a threat to your people. Please.”

The Master stills. “…You came here expecting to die by my hand?”

Unable to speak, Xiao can only hunch even further into himself. He trusts this Master to give him a swift and painless end, so why?—

“You truly value yourself so little?”

Slowly, Xiao drops to his knees in the dewy morning grass and bends his head, sweeping his wild hair to the side until the back of his neck is exposed. The Master’s words and new contract imply that he wishes Xiao to live, but Xiao… Xiao is so, so tired. Perhaps if he waits like this and proves to the Master his willingness, the Master will no longer have reason to hesitate.

He startles when the Master makes a soft sound, akin to that of a wounded beast.

“Xiao, please,” he whispers. “Already I have lost so many adepti to senseless conflict and shattered Hearts. I cannot lose you too.”

Glowing fingertips reach out to hover over the seeping wound at Xiao’s shoulder.

“What will it take for you to live?”

Nothing, Xiao wants to say. Nothing, now that my Heart is damaged irreparably and I have hurt and betrayed the only person I might once have lived for. But to breathe even a word of it would be handing Aether over to another Archon, so Xiao only bites his lip until a fang sinks in and braces himself for the Master’s anger.

Without warning, a faint sound, like a far-off jingling of temple bells, rings in Xiao’s ear. His Heart trembles, stills.

Opens.

Then his back is arching, a gasp escaping his lungs as the cool, clear power of an offering, of Aether’s offering, floods through his body. It is more distant, somehow, more faded than most of the offerings Aether has given him before, but Xiao still drinks it in as if a parched stone in the rain; desperate, disbelieving.

The corruption that tangles through his body screams as it is driven back, just a fraction, and Xiao crushes his hands against his chest as he feels Aether’s power form a frail, shining barrier around his Heart.

Aether is alive. And he has dedicated an offering to Xiao.

“—ao. Xiao!” The Master’s hands are on his shoulders, jostling him slightly, Xiao realizes. He looks up— meets the Master’s gaze with a shiver.

“Master,” he whispers.

“What happened, Xiao?”

Still dazed, Xiao blinks slowly, and pulls the scrap of Aether’s power in a little tighter. “I…”

Hope is a terrible, wonderful feeling, and Xiao is helpless against it. “If you can heal me, then… I will live.”

A strange expression flickers across the Master’s face before easing into something… soft. Mournful. “Thank you, Xiao. I promise you will not have to regret it.”

The Master’s hands, searing with heat, brush over Xiao’s first wound, and he closes his eyes. It seems that his death is to be delayed again after all.

--

Hanul’s aging body succumbs to a summer fever, Bachi passes on while asleep in her husband’s arms, and Aether… Aether doesn’t change at all.

He joins the funeral processions, of course, scattering Hanul’s ashes on the mountain beside his mother’s, then standing in the shadows of the mourning hall while Bachi’s friends and family weep quietly around him. After so many millennia, Aether has lost more precious people than he could ever hope to count, but staying in once place long enough to follow a mortal’s life from start to natural end is rare, even for him.

Rare to feel melancholy peace alongside the grief.

The village moves on, and so does Aether. One of Bachi’s daughters— a woman Aether had met only once at a grand family celebration— arrives to inherit the weathered old teashop, and though she is kind, polite, and ready to learn; she never becomes a friend in the way Ganzhi and Hanul had.

In fact, she almost seems to… revere him— and that is strange enough to border on concerning, so Aether reluctantly opens his ears to rumors beyond those that could be related to Xiao.

From careful questions and snatches of overheard conversations, Aether gathers that he’s become something of a local legend, though his immortality is still never spoken of directly. Some of the stories even make him laugh— a “polite boy who brews exceptional tea” is one thing, but “timeless, ghostly, and mysterious?” or “a person whose skills must have been blessed by Celestia itself, and whose aura draws in guests like a beckoning spirit?” It seems that exaggerated tales and gossip remain the same in any world.

Those rumors don’t last long, though— or rather, they are soon overshadowed by the scattering of new customers who begin to frequent the teashop. And they certainly are curious, with their uniform white robes, keenly polished weapons, and endless strings of jangling charms and talismans. Aether soon gathers that these people are from a newly formed clan of exorcists, whose job it is to protect Liyue from the various shades and evil spirits that have begun to stalk the land.

Aether knows nothing of exorcisms in Teyvat, but even so, he can’t help but look upon their posturing and excessive spell paraphernalia with doubt. But when stories of the exorcists’ successful night hunts follow them wherever they go… well, if they’re getting the job done, that’s all that really matters to Aether.

More concerning are the reports of rising darkness— and the monstrous adeptus who rages against it. The exorcists speak of a horned beast who kills and destroys without regard for human life, and whose glowing spear and wailing screams are their only warnings to abandon a hunt lest they be purged along with the shadows they fight. The common folk spin tales of a midnight guardian who lives so close to the darkness he has nearly become one with it, and warn in hushed voices to flee from him as fast as one would from any evil spirit.

Surely, these stories cannot be depicting Xiao, with his terrified eyes and gentle hands and unwillingness to so much as spar with Aether. And of course, Aether knows all such stories are destined to be warped and exaggerated for the sake of an audience— but still, the more he hears, the more he wonders. The more he worries. The more he fears.

--

Xiao kneels quietly on the floor of the Master’s palace, right beside a fine reclining couch where he expects the Master will sit when he returns. Even now, he feels… dizzy. Unbalanced. Again and again, he reaches for the thread of the new contract the Master had spoken into being, and it is there every time without fail.

Guide, heal, protect. The Master’s voice still rumbles in Xiao’s mind, and he shivers at the memory. By now, it is clear that the Master has no intention of hurting him, but…

The soft tap of footsteps over wood snaps Xiao back to attention, and when the Master enters the room, Xiao is in proper position— hands flat on his thighs, back straight, head bent. For Saizhen, Xiao had done only the bare minimum to avoid the Archon’s wrath, but for this Master… Xiao does not want him to find a single fault.

“Oh, Xiao,” the Master sighs, and the glow of his bare feet turn the floorboards to gold as he steps closer. “Displays of respect may have their place, but I will never ask you to submit to me in this way. Will you stand?”

Is it an order, or a test? Slowly, Xiao rises on stiff legs, his gaze still firmly fixed on the ground.

“Thank you.”

The Master sounds pleased, and Xiao allows himself a breath of relief.

“It has come to my attention that you have no home of your own, so I have repurposed one of the rooms here for your use. Come.”

Silently, Xiao follows the Master deeper into the palace, where the doors are spaced further and further apart and every surface gleams with wealth. They stop at the end of a wide hall, and Xiao takes in the open balcony on the left and the circular entryway in front that offers a glimpse of a luxurious bedroom before lowering his eyes again.

“Here,” the Master says, and he pushes open the unassuming door on the right. “This will be your room, if it is to your liking.”

He stands to the side, but Xiao would never dare to walk ahead of the Master, so he only takes a tiny step forward to peer inside.

There are no windows, but the room is well-illuminated by a number of warm, ornate lamps. A large bed and desk sit against one wall, and a closet and stuffed bookshelf against another. There are plants in pots on the floor and colorful scrolls hanging on tiny hooks. Another door is set into the opposite wall, and Xiao briefly wonders why there would be a room attached to a room.

Every inch of the room is clean and comfortable and expertly crafted. It is not for Xiao.

“What do you think?” The Master asks, frowning. “Would you perhaps prefer a room with more natural light?”

Xiao would rather be in the shadows and out of the sun, but the Master seems to think Xiao does not like this room, and that—

“No!” Xiao swallows hard. Too loud. “I— it is as expected from a god of your status, my lord.”

The frown only grows deeper. “But do you like it?”

“Yes,” Xiao says helplessly. He wants to add more, to tell the Master that there is no need for Xiao to take up space in the palace— but that would be arguing, and Xiao wants to avoid the Master’s wrath.

“Good. Then this is yours for as long as you need it.” The Master steps away from the door and gestures toward the circle entryway. “That is my room, which you are welcome to enter at any time, should you need me. In fact, nothing in this palace is off limits to you, so this is my permission to go wherever you like and use whatever you need.” His eyes glint. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Xiao says again, though he isn’t sure he understands at all.

The Master’s thumb lifts to brush across Xiao’s hairline then, sizzling painfully over his corrupted skin and scratching at his twisted horn. “Do you remember my promise from the night we spent at the lake of Mount Aocang?”

You will face no punishment…

Xiao nods, trembling.

“It still stands,” the Master says softly. “So, is there anything you would like to ask me?”

To question the Master is to defy him, but perhaps— if Xiao tests him now, he’ll know—

He promised, he promised, he promised.

“Master… what will you do with me now?” Xiao whispers. “I must fulfill my contract with you, but I cannot fight if you keep me here. And my Heart is…”

“Ah,” the Master says, eyes still soft, hands still open and unthreatening. “For some time now, I have been preparing a seal that will restrain the nightmarish power Saizhen forced upon you and, I hope, put your Heart into stasis. If you accept, I will place it upon you as soon as you are rested enough to endure it. But before that, I must ask—” and then the Master kneels, lowering himself until he is looking up at Xiao and his robes are spilling over the dark floor. Xiao’s breath, catches, hard, and suddenly his body is shaking uncontrollably. No, this is wrong, the Master should never be—

“The only way to truly restore your Heart is to let another to purify it. I understand why you would… hesitate, to place your Heart in someone else’s hands ever again, but I will try anything I can to save you, and so— Xiao, would you allow me to purify your Heart?”

Xiao is frozen, a phantom hand trailing over his long hair and a cold whisper screaming in his ears.

“I have done the same for many of the other life-born adepti who follow me, and I would return it to you the moment it was healed. You would not be a burden on me.”

The Master could do it, Xiao thinks, distant and detached. Might be the only being left who could restore a Heart as ruined as Xiao’s.

The moment breaks.

Xiao stumbles, back and back until he slams against the opposite side of the hall, his own gasps loud in the stillness, and the Master is still kneeling, his amber gaze weighing heavily on Xiao’s shaking form.

“I understand,” he says, and though he climbs to his feet at last, he does not take so much as a step toward Xiao. “Please, take this time to rest.” He pauses. “And I… must insist that you do not attempt to sneak out and fight, even for my sake. I will be back tomorrow morning, but you may call for me any time if you should need me.”

And then… he leaves.

Xiao hits the floor with an echoing thump. The Master is not angry; had not struck him for his questions or tortured him for his defiance. Had not taken Xiao’s Heart.

As Xiao creeps into his room and curls up on the floor in one corner, he dares to wonder if perhaps the Master’s endless kindness to him is real after all.

Notes:

my first draft of this whole section started at 3000 words and now it's looking more like 15,000 words in five parts someone tell me how the hecc-

Chapter 14: Third Thread: Shift

Notes:

WHY IS EVERYTHING IN INAZUMA TRYING TO KILL ME???

Also I made a quick (highly embellished) sketch of what I imagine Xiao looks like right now, which i have inserted in the end notes if anyone's interested :D

(5/29/23: Yaksha names updated according to 2.7 reveal. If you see any mistakes, let me know!)

The first time Aether sees one of Liyue’s famous Archon statues in person is a matter of unusual errand and pure coincidence.

Apparently, Bachi’s daughter had borrowed some… supplies?— Aether isn’t entirely clear on the details— from the owner of Waterlily Inn, but due to a sudden family incident, it has fallen to Aether to return those supplies in her stead. She’s nearly begging when she asks him to make the trip across Liyue and up to the village beyond the northern gate, but Aether really doesn’t mind. After all, if there’s anything he’s good at by now, it’s traveling, and he can always use an excuse to explore outside their sleepy little village.

He packs a bag, secures his hooded cloak, and heads out at once.

Liyue Harbor is lively as ever when Aether passes through it. These days, most of his rare visits to the city only take him as far as the Chihu Rock markets, so Aether indulges in a bit of sightseeing as he trails up through Feiyun Slope and Yujing Terrace.

The Feiyun Commerce Guild central office has expanded yet again, he notices— Bachi’s business is thriving more than ever. Or should he call it the Liang family business now? He’ll probably never be able to think of the company as anything but Bachi’s.

For a moment, he considers stopping by. Those close to the central Liang family at least know of him, after all, between his appearances at Hanul and Bachi’s funerals and his connections with the family head and Ganzhi’s teashop. And he does still have some money invested in the business that he hadn’t claimed after Bachi’s death— though he shudders to think how large the sum must have grown by now.

But no, he has a task to complete, and he doesn’t want to be delayed by any potential conversations or distractions should he walk inside. As for the money… he’ll leave that as a problem for the future.

Further into the city, as he strolls through the Yujing Terrace gardens, Aether’s eyes catch on a mansion— estate, really— that sprawls out against the mountainside, high enough to overlook the entire Harbor. It’s an expensive collection of buildings in an even more expensive location, and Aether can’t help but wonder who it belongs to.

He’s not exactly intimately familiar with the city, but his time training under Master Yi’en had at least brought him to serve the wealthy clientele of Yujing Terrace multiple times. None of them could’ve, or rather, would’ve built this.

It isn’t until Aether draws a little closer and sees two women with fine white robes and silver swords at their waists standing at the gate that he understands. So, this is what the exorcists have been doing with their newfound prestige.

He can’t say he’s all that impressed.

An elderly man passing by sees Aether staring and pauses to comment. “They had that estate built just a few years ago, you know? The whole Liu clan lives there now; though even for them, the size of such a place is…” The man strokes his beard. “Well, the youngsters do what they will.”

Aether gives the buildings one last look before moving on. Even if all his powers were returned right now, it still wouldn’t be his place to interfere in Liyue’s affairs.

Outside the northern gate, the path winds steeply up into the mountains, and Aether braces himself for what is almost certainly about to be a painful climb. As he discovers a few minutes later, he’d been wrong— it’s embarrassing too, stumbling and gasping for air when he’d once fought wars and skimmed across the stars without so much as breaking a sweat.

Is the weakness because of his fading energy or merely a lingering result of starvation and lack of sleep?

Regardless, Aether manages to reach Waterlily Inn before the sun sets entirely, and, once his delivery is complete, decides to just rent a room there for the night. Once upon a time, he would have simply traveled through the night, but between his deteriorating physical condition and the increasing numbers of evil spirits that only grow stronger in the darkness… it’s probably safer this way.

As expected, he only waits out the night in sleepless silence, so he’s out of the inn and back on the road before even the innkeeper can rise for the day. Aether takes a bit of time to walk around the village— might as well, right?— but all he concludes is that this village and his own are much the same, though this one has more small businesses in place of stretches of farmland.

The only real thing that sets the two places apart is the massive, glowing statue that dominates the roadside here.

Aether stops to study it. A tall, gilded pedestal and elaborate carvings make up the lower part, and the whole thing is topped by a stone depiction of what must be Rex Lapis. The statue slouches almost indolently in its throne; powerful, arrogant— and for some reason, completely shirtless. It’s almost the exact opposite of everything Aether had sensed from the Archon during that first Rite of Descension, and even the awed and joyful tales that are shared among the people of Liyue.

Who designed this? The Liyue Qixing? A commission of particularly dramatic artists? Rex Lapis himself?

Aether scratches at the back of his hood. Well, he supposes that the statue does emanate an overwhelming sort of power, and if the average mortal has no way of detecting its exact nature…

…Or maybe it’s just the abs. Though if that really is the case, Aether has a few more questions for whoever was in charge of the whole project.

With a tiny huff, he turns away and heads down the trail back to Liyue Harbor.

He never even thinks to touch such a suspicious statue. The threads of fate shift on the loom, just a fraction.

Time ticks on.

--

Not once over the next eight suns does the Master allow Xiao to return to his duty of fighting back the darkness over Liyue. It leaves Xiao with a scratching fear just beneath his skin, the knowledge that he is wasting time, failing to fulfill the contract. Failing to be useful.

When he works up enough daring to ask, the Master tells him that other adepti are protecting Liyue in his place, if only temporarily. And that is… good, Xiao thinks, though he does not know why the news calms some of the trembling in his Heart. Still, the greater fear remains, and though the Master does not forbid him from leaving the palace, Xiao has nothing else to do but wait in his assigned room— so that is what he does.

A few restless stretches of blackness are all he can manage of “rest”, and most of his time is spent huddled in the corner of the room, away from anything he might damage if he loses himself again; or standing on the nearby balcony to take in the sweeping view of Jueyun Karst below. Sometimes he can hear the pattering footsteps of other adepti coming in and out of the palace, but he is always careful to stay out of their way. Even with the Master’s protection, who knows what they might do to Xiao if they were to find him so favored as this?

As for the Master, he remains busy, though he still insists upon visiting Xiao each day, no matter how hard Xiao tries to prove it unnecessary. The visits are always short— the Master knocks on Xiao’s door and waits from him to open it before asking if he has any questions, or if there is anything he wants. Xiao rarely has questions and dares not want anything, and the Master always leaves with a frown on his face.

The expression makes Xiao… hurt, somewhere deep inside, but he does not know what he could do to please the Master instead.

On the ninth day since Xiao’s arrival at the palace, a knock sounds at his door earlier than usual, and when he hesitantly pulls it open, the Master is waiting with an air of great solemnity.

“Xiao,” he greets. “The seal is complete, and I can place it upon you as early as today, if you are ready.”

There is no question of “readiness”.

Silently, Xiao follows the Master down to the central hall, which has been cleared of the chairs and table he’d seen before and is now quiet and echoingly empty.

The Master stops in the direct center, and Xiao immediately makes to drop to his knees, but the Master halts him with a light hand on his shoulder. “Before that,” he murmurs, “I will explain to you exactly what the seal does.”

Confusion scratches over Xiao’s thoughts— why is the Master explaining his plans to a servant?— but this is the Geo Archon, not the God of Dreams, and Xiao is well aware of the Master’s stubbornly strange behavior by now. He listens.

“Applied correctly, this seal will separate your corrupted energy and the agony it brings you from the rest of your body, and will absorb the full force of any new grudges or karma in order to slow the crumbling of your Heart. However,” the Master says, pressing his palms together, “I am aware that, for now, your adeptal powers and the corruption you bear are one and the same, and that any ability not directly tied to your Vision will be locked away once the seal is in place. So, to ensure that you still have the strength to fight when you must, I have created a… key for that lock, so to speak. In other words, you will only have to endure the corruption when you unleash your powers for the sake of battle.”

The Master’s hands open, and glowing characters for balance, suppression, and tranquility bubble up from his skin.

“It will likely hurt,” he says quietly, a wavering note in his voice. “I am sorry.”

Xiao almost laughs. He has endured for century upon century, survived a master who brought him nothing but misery, and now this master is apologizing for a few moments more of pain?

His knees are finally allowed to hit the ground, and after a moment, the Master leans over him. “Close your eyes.”

Xiao can feel the resonating warmth of divine geo before the Master’s fingers can even touch the mark on his forehead, and when they do—

A strangled cry echoes distantly in his ears, and then fire is searing its way through every inch of Xiao’s body, digging into his skin and bones as if trying to tear them out from the inside, and then—

He is suffocating on air, his Heart screaming as it is wrung dry, the corruption clawing and tearing for whatever hold it can as pure, clear power floods through Xiao, unstoppable, and then—

His skin burns as a complex pattern scrolls its way down his arm, and his whole head seems to pull and warp as his vision grows dark, and then—

The pain vanishes. Vanishes, with only a dull throb in his limbs to remind him of the eternal agony that pounds against the inside of seal, muted and waiting for its escape. Dimly, Xiao realizes that he is being propped up against something warm and strong, but he is too lost in the weightlessness of his own body to give it proper attention.

There is something over his face, too, though whatever it is, he can still see past it. Weakly, Xiao lifts a hand to pry at the object, and it falls away easily in his grasp.

…A mask?

“Xiao,” the Master is humming, and now Xiao can hear it. “Are you here? Come back to me.”

Shifting slightly, Xiao presses back against the arms that encircle him, and—

Arms.

The Master’s arms are around him. He’s so weak he had forced the Master to hold him up as if he were nothing more than a useless—

“Xiao!”

He stills, gasping for breath.

“Focus on me.”

And Xiao’s attention snaps up to the Master’s gleaming eyes— he cannot do anything else. Slowly, ever so slowly, he shuffles back until he is kneeling once again, and the Master’s hands lift up to cover his ears and tangle in his hair. His gaze never falters.

“You’ve done so well, Xiao. I am sorry you had to endure it.” Then the Master leans in and in until their horns click softly together and Xiao can no longer keep those amber eyes in focus. Trembling, he closes his own.

Gentle waves of divine power slip through him from the point of contact at his forehead, and the lingering pains that still bristle around the seal are soothed away. Xiao inhales. Exhales. The Master’s hands are warm.

“The mask in your hand is the ‘key’ to your powers, but as I explained before, it will not impact the strength of your Vision. And Xiao…” The Master pauses. “From now on, whenever you judge it possible, I would like you to use only the powers of your Vision in battle. As I locked the seal in place, I was allowed to feel a fraction of the agony you bear, and the thought of you enduring that until now— of using it with reckless abandon from here on… I cannot stand it.”

The Master’s face is twisted strangely as he speaks, and his voice is rasping and quiet.

“The signs of corruption upon your body will also return whenever you put on the mask, though that is secondary to everything else.”

Signs of corruption? For the first time, Xiao lifts his own hand and properly looks. His skin is… clean. Moon-pale. Still marred with scars that will never be healed, but the writhing, acid darkness under his skin is gone. A faintly glowing tattoo on his upper arm appears to be the only price for the change. Pulling his forehead away from the Master’s, Xiao feels almost desperately for his deformed horns, but finds nothing there but short, smooth curves, neatly pointed at the tips. Even his claws, though still stained black, are neat and sharp and healthy.

Xiao has not been this whole in… he cannot remember.

Finally, he raises the mask in his hands and stares into a face that is far more demon than adeptus. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised, given how close he is to that very transformation.

“How do you feel, Xiao?”

Xiao looks back up into the Master’s gentle gaze. Then he slips down to the floor in a breath and presses his forehead to the polished wood below. “Master— there is nothing— I can never repay you—"

Soft hands land on his shoulders and tug him up. “No, if anything, it is I who can never repay you. After all, in the end, I have only done this so you will live for the sake of my own selfishness and continue to fight an endless war that will only bring you more pain.” The Master’s smile is… sad, Xiao thinks distantly as he settles back on his knees.

“But there is one more thing that must be addressed today.”

The Master waves a hand, then, and the door of the central hall creaks open. In shuffle four adepti Xiao has never seen before— three earth-born with powers of fire, river, and quake, and one life-born with a Vision of electro.

“Bonanus, Indarias, Bosacias, and Menogias— meet Xiao, the first yaksha, and the final member of your group.”

Xiao stiffens involuntarily. Other yaksha… does the Master intend for him to work with these adepti?

“Greetings,” offers the river adeptus— Bonanus? The others remain silent, not quite hostile, but watchful.

Xiao bows low because he cannot humiliate the Master, but even so, his trembling does not stop.

“You will no longer have to fight alone, Xiao. Please allow them to share your burden, one I should never have put upon you in the first place.” The Master stands, and, numbly, Xiao follows suit. “Tomorrow, you may return to your duties with your fellow yaksha. And… make sure to take care of yourself as well.”

--

Sometimes, when he’s alone for hours or days or even weeks, Aether forgets to eat.

It’s not… deliberate; or for lack of food. It’s just that when the lonely stillness presses down on him the way it had in the valley, or the darkness of night blinds him the way it had in the dream prism, Aether doesn’t even give a thought to feeding himself until he’s collapsed on the floor.

It’s disrespectful to Kian’s memory (and Xiao, he can’t help but think) to weaken his body and starve himself when he now has plenty, so Aether does his best to keep himself in check— makes more visits to Liyue Harbor, takes walks past his neighbor’s homes, speaks to more and more customers— anything to break the monotony and surround himself with people. But despite his efforts, his mind sometimes still fails, his energy still drains slowly away, and Aether accepts that this will be his new way of life until the end.

The teashop owner changes, then changes again. One treats Aether like some sort of local deity, and the next commits herself fully to the apparent family tradition of getting Aether to eat and sleep, and both are more than kind to him. Even so, he misses that first warm connection he’d had with Ganzhi and her children, the closest thing he’d had to his bond with Lumine. He wonders if he’ll ever feel it again.

--

As it was in the palace, it is Bonanus who approaches Xiao first. Several moons have passed since the Master first called the yaksha together as a group, but Xiao has continued to fight alone. The other yaksha do not want him in their ranks, after all, but even if they did, Xiao is dangerous, sealed powers or not, and he has never before been told to fight alongside another. He would likely hurt them long before making any of them stronger.

So he battles alone, and the others fight in pairs, and nothing truly changes at all.

Until, of course, Bonanus.

“Would you mind joining me for a bit, Xiao?”

He looks up at her, the way her hair falls over her face and ripples like water in the breeze, the way her many eyes gleam under the moonlight. Clinging to the reminder that the Master is the only one Xiao must now obey, he takes a deep breath.

“Where are you going?”

Bonanus’s eyes blink in a translucent-lidded wave. “Only to my river. It shouldn’t take long.”

Cautiously, Xiao climbs to his feet. She will be stronger beside the source of her power, more dangerous should she attempt to hurt him, but… like Ganyu, her aura shows not a trace of hostility, and her approach had been polite. “Very well.”

She sets out toward Guili, and Xiao struggles to remain behind her as he follows. They are traveling at a speed far greater than any mortal could hope to achieve, but compared to Xiao’s swiftness, or the Master’s— she is slow. Disturbingly slow, particularly for an adeptus with the power of hydro. Is she younger than Xiao had assumed at their first meeting?

“I was born shortly before the end of the Archon War,” Bonanus says abruptly, and Xiao very nearly trips at the response to his unspoken wonderings. “But I did not form my contract with Lord Rex until it was over, so unlike Menogias, I know little of you or your deeds. Since we all one under Lord Rex’s banner now, I hope to connect with you on those terms, unhindered by memories of war.”

Stunned, Xiao looks away. “…There is no need to force yourself. I can… tell the Master I am capable of fighting alone. He will understand.” Xiao hopes.

Bonanus pauses. “This matter has nothing to do with Lord Rex.” She sounds almost… baffled. “I want to become closer acquainted with you, particularly if we are ever to fight together.”

Not so long ago, Xiao would have been certain she was only saying such a thing to appease him, but now— he thinks— the Master would not order Bonanus to appear interested, and surely he would not tell her to lie should Xiao ever question it.

He follows her in silence for the rest of their journey.

Bonanus’s river turns out to be a thin, silvery ribbon that winds its way through the Guili Plains, and when they reach its banks, she dives straight into the waters before resurfacing with a sigh.

Xiao hovers to the side, his feet just splashing in the shallows.

“So, Xiao,” Bonanus asks at last. “How did you meet Lord Rex?”

“…After the God of Dreams fell, he made a contract with me and gave me the duty of protecting Liyue.”

For a few moments, Bonanus keeps staring up at him, as if waiting for something more. But Xiao has nothing to say.

“Is that all? What did he promise you in return for your contract?”

Coaxing blurred memories to the front of his mind, Xiao slowly repeats what the Master had said to Cloud Retainer that night by the lake. “He… gave me a new life.”

All of Bonanus’s eyes crease as she frowns. “That’s vague. Unusually vague for the God of Contracts. Is that what was written on the contract when you made it?”

“I do not know. There was no need for me to read it.”

The very air seems to still with Bonanus’s pause. “You made a contract with Rex Lapis and you never read it?”

Xiao takes a step back, out of reach of the water. “I— no matter the conditions of the contract, my life is forfeit. I will do whatever the Master commands of me.”

Bonanus’s eyes are wide, her face twisted and frozen. “And still you serve him blindly… what was he thinking?” She whispers, barely even a breath.

Uncertain if he was even intended to hear her spoken thoughts, Xiao wavers between staying to appease her or simply running to avoid her clear displeasure. And then—

“You’ve never fought with a partner before, have you?”

Already on edge, Xiao startles at the loud, abrupt question. He had fought beside Saizhen before, in a sense, moving at the Archon’s command as the extension of his will. But somehow, he doubts Bonanus would consider that past partnership as such. Slowly, skin prickling, Xiao shakes his head.

Bonanus makes a thoughtful sound and rises from the river in one easy movement, water trailing from her hair and robes like a curtain. “I’ll teach you. It’s a quiet night, so we can take our time.” She holds out a hand, her gaze now clear and steady. “Here.”

Hesitantly, Xiao places his fingers in hers, wondering for a moment that he can now do so without fear of his skin burning those he touches. Wondering that she seems to have no intent of hurting him, either.

As their skin brushes, a short, curved sword appears in Bonanus’s empty hand, and she swings around until her back is nearly pressed against Xiao’s. She readies her weapon, but does not disconnect their fingers. “You defend me,” she says, “and I defend you. Simple, right?”

She moves, tugging Xiao alongside, striking and parrying to battle an invisible foe. Not once does she look behind herself, where Xiao still stands.

“Of course, we may be forced to separate in battle.” She releases Xiao’s hand and leaps away. “But my attention must always be split to include you, and all others who fight by my side.”

Bonanus gestures with her sword and tilts her head, and Xiao stares at her for a moment. Surely, she cannot be asking him to…

“You’ll have a hard time protecting yourself without a weapon, won’t you?” She says lightly, a second sword manifesting in a splash of water to cross the first.

Shakily, Xiao allows his spear to fall into his stiff hands. They are not training, he reminds himself— he is no longer part of Saizhen’s army, and his new master would never ask his adepti to slaughter each other as the God of Dreams had. Surely. So they can’t be training.

Bonanus frowns at Xiao’s hesitation, but once he hurries to raise his spear, she turns and brings them back-to-back once again.

“When you fight alone,” she murmurs, “you can make yourself a tidal wave, crashing over all in your path. But when the lives of other depend on you, you must flow as a river, changing with the obstacles in your path and moving with the current; steady, but unstoppable.”

Bonanus lunges into a battle stance, and Xiao carefully matches her. “Now. Follow me.”

Notes:

<3

Chapter 15: Fourth Thread: Sprout

Notes:

Wow, I've just been on a roll these past couple weeks

 

i feel so pretentious writing Zhongli, like, who talks like this? not me

 

TW: Some violence
(5/29/23: Yaksha names updated according to 2.7 reveal)

It only takes a tiny, careless mistake, one escaped ember, a moment’s inattention by one of their newest servers— and the now centuries-old wood of Ganzhi’s teashop goes up in flames. There’s nothing anyone in the village can to do stop it.

Aether helps rush customers out of the smoky building and into the street, then watches with all the rest as a beloved legacy goes up in flames. Beside him, the current owner of the shop stands crying— a young man in his twenties who had only just taken over from his mother. His distress is more than understandable—Aether is aware the man had been trying to prove himself to his family, so losing the business now is… well.

Aether gives him a gentle pat on the back before moving on to ensuring that the flames won’t jump to the nearby fields and fences as well. Dousing the fire is a task that consumes an entire night, even with all able hands in the village assisting; but the work is a rare opportunity to keep his mind fully distracted for more than an hour or two, and it’s not as if Aether sleeps much anyway.

…He’ll think about the implications of losing his only job in the morning.

Eventually, with an afternoon of steady rain and a bit of time, the last of the smoke clears, and Aether returns with a few of his coworkers to pick through the blackened remains of the teashop. There isn’t much to save, really. Just the teasets that remained mostly protected by a glass case, and a few sturdy metal dishes that survived the heat of the fire.

Aether collects them anyway, precious relics from Ganzhi’s day that they are, and waits to see what his boss will do next.

For a while, nothing happens. The villagers return to their daily lives, the teashop workers begin to search for other jobs, and the teashop owner— ex-teashop owner?— returns to Liyue Harbor to consult with his family and the Feiyun Commerce Guild. Aether cleans every inch of his tiny house, then cleans it again; forces himself to nibble on dried fruits and soft bread; and very carefully avoids the box on his bedside table and the pile of stones slowly gathering moss just outside his door. He’s already given into that weakness once. He won’t bother Xiao or torture himself with memories again.

News comes one day in the form of a letter stamped with the Liang family seal, inviting Aether to be the first employee at his boss’s new startup teahouse. This teahouse, the letter explains, is to be a more elegant reimagining of Ganzhi’s legacy, and will be located just past the southwestern bridge of Liyue Harbor in order to most effectively serve both residents and travelers.

Closer to Liyue Harbor…. Aether slips comfortably down to his living room floor and props his arms— and the letter— up on his knees.

Proximity to Liyue Harbor means proximity to danger, and means serving more customers who may or may not keep up the strange, public secrecy of Aether’s immortality. It also means a higher chance of running into adepti like Lady Ganyu (it’s only taken him centuries to connect a name to her face), and might require more careful disguises than just a hooded cloak. Or perhaps it won’t be a problem at all. Who knows?

But if Aether keeps busy with a flood of new customers, he’ll be able to distract himself from… other things. And it would be a shame to waste his mastery of Liyue tea ceremony when a more luxurious teahouse would give him the opportunity to practice.

He flips the letter over and picks up a brush.

Thank you for your letter and the honor of an early invitation.

As you are well aware, my situation requires somewhat unusual caution to avoid view by the public eye, and serving at a teashop so close to Liyue Harbor would put me at risk. However, if you remain interested in my skills, I would be delighted to continue my work in the kitchen and play host for more private tea ceremonies. I await your reply…

--

“Everyone, look! I got an invitation from Lord Rex.” Bosacius’s boisterous call rings over the field, and Xiao startles up.

“Relax, thunder brain,” Bonanus says sleepily from where she’s resting in the shade of a tree beside Xiao. “If it’s not a crisis, there’s no need to yell.”

“Sorry,” Bosacius grinds to a halt just in front of them and ducks his head. “But—it’s from Lord Rex.”

“We heard you the first time. Wait a few more years like Menogias or Xiao and it won’t be anything to get so excited about.”

“…So you’re actually excited too, Bonanus?”

A single, bright blue eye cracks open. “Now listen—”

Though he has not been acquainted with them for long, Xiao has already learned that these two adepti, the youngest of the yaksha, will begin arguments at the slightest provocation, and can continue them for hours if left alone.

He has also learned, through fearful attempts to stop their fighting, that they never escalate to true violence and never seem to be hurt by the other’s constant attacks. But although he no longer moves to interfere, it does not stop him from keeping a wary eye on them both, should their tempers flare and become something more.

“Anyway!” Bosacius yelps, and Xiao focuses again on his words. “Lord Rex is asking us to join him tonight at Aocang for the hot springs— just him and us five yaksha.” He does an odd bounce on his toes and claps all four hands together. “You’re coming with us, right, Xiao?”

Xiao hesitates. The Master has made it clear enough that he is to attend all events to which he is invited from this point onward, and Xiao does not want to risk the Master’s wrath, no matter how unlikely, by ignoring the summons. But if all the yaksha are meant to gather at once…

“Does Menogias intend to join?” He asks carefully.

Bonanus and Bosacius look at each other.

“We’ll… convince him,” Bosacius says awkwardly. “Or Indarias can convince him. If we’re all going to do our best for Lord Rex, he can’t avoid you forever.”

“It does not bother me if he never wishes to meet. After all, the things I’ve done to—”

“It bothers us!” Bosacius and Bonanus say at the same time, though with rather different levels of intensity. Xiao shrinks back.

“Look, Xiao,” Bonanus says after a moment, pinching two fingers over the bridge of her nose. “If Lord Rex made a contract with you, then I trust that whatever terrible things you were forced to do in the past won’t be a danger to us now. And after spending so much time together, even if there was no contract, I’d trust you anyway.”

She stares Xiao down, and Bosacius nods vigorously in the background. “Indarias will convince him to come, and if he’s too stubborn to behave, we’ll protect you.”

Lightheaded, Xiao forces himself not to stumble away from them. That they trust him… of course they must, to some extent, if they can tolerate him so well— but to say that they would trust him even without the Master keeping Xiao under control? It cannot be anything other than a lie, though a kinder one than those Xiao has faced before. And for Bosacius and Bonanus, only ninety years and two centuries respectively, to promise to protect Xiao from a thousand-year-old warrior like Menogias? They would more likely be wiped from existence first. But their words do not seem mocking…

“I… understand,” Xiao says at last, mostly to put an end to their expectant stares. The other two yaksha are confusing as always, and even Indarias, at four hundred years, is not much better. In fact, it is only Menogias’s actions that Xiao can make sense of, but the other three seem to regard those very actions as incorrect.

“Great! Oh, and Lord Rex says he’ll assign a few other adepti to protecting Liyue while we’re all busy, so you don’t have to worry about that either.” Bosacius offers Xiao a sharp-toothed smile.

“I’ll contact Indarias, then,” Bonanus says, flowing smoothly to her feet. “Don’t worry, Xiao. We’ll make it work.”

 

It turns out that the hot springs are a vast collection of interconnected pools and streams that glow blue-green under luminescent cave plants. Steam curls slowly off of every surface, and a stand near the mouth of the cave is weighed down with supplies for bathing.

When Xiao warily slips into the cave, he finds Bonanus and the Master already in the springs, relaxed, eyes closed— and completely vulnerable. But though Xiao could strike right now, might even have a chance of destroying the Master himself…

He pictures Bonanus’s body slumped back against the stone, eyes all wide and unseeing, ichor spilling into the water; sees the Master’s strong, proud form suddenly broken and still under Xiao’s blade, and—

Xiao barely holds back the bile that threatens to spill from his throat, fights to stop himself from fleeing right then and there. He… he doesn’t want them to die. Doesn’t want to be the one who kills them.

That his thoughts would turn to bloodshed even though Xiao has left Saizhen far behind by now— he is still a monster, then, no matter how the others try to brush it aside.

With lurching steps, Xiao finds his way to a corner of the cave and huddles on a damp stone, as far from any others as he has an excuse to be.

The Master stirs, then. “Xiao? Won’t you join us in the water?”

Even if Xiao were not a danger to them, he does not want to bare his skin, has no way of hiding the precious objects tucked carefully beneath his belt. He can call and disperse his own clothing now, but even though the flute and necklace were freely given to him, he has never been able to make them disappear.

“I will wait here, my lord.”

“Why?” The Master’s voice is light and curious. “There is no need to remain so vigilant as long as I am here to protect you, and I imagine you have not had the chance to properly care for yourself in a long time. Is the heat too much for you?”

“No, my lord. But I have no need of… this.” Xiao manages.

The Master’s tone softens further. “Of rest?”

Closing his eyes in defeat, Xiao waits for the Master’s inevitable order to join them in the water. But none comes.

“Sorry we’re late!” Bosacius’s announcement echoes through the cavern, and Xiao looks up to see him, Indarias, and Menogias trailing in.

“Lord Rex,” Menogias intones, and the Master nods.

“Welcome.”

For a moment, Xiao meets Menogias’s sharp, slanted gaze before turning away with a shiver. He had never fought Menogias directly during the war, but that matters little. The damage he’d inflicted on the rest of the Master’s followers was more than enough to incite Menogias’s rage.

“Hello, Xiao,” Indarias greets. “It’s good to see you again.”

Xiao offers her a tiny nod, and then the adepti are all busy with carrying over buckets, pouring out cloying silkflower oils, and slipping into the water.

“Lose control of your vision, Bosacius, and you’re on solo rotations until the next moon.” Bonanus threatens.

“I electrocute the water one time…”

The Master laughs quietly as Menogias sighs.

Slowly, the adepti turn from resting limply in the water to washing themselves and even braiding flowers into each other’s hair. The Master wipes off the red marks at the corners of his eyes and smiles when Bosacius laughs at the messy streaks they leave behind. Bonanus covers the surface of the spring in tiny whirlpools and fountains. Menogias breathes out a spark of power and turns the surrounding steam to tiny, crystallized bubbles.

They are playing, just as Ganyu had that first day on the mountain, just as the Master does with his adepti, just as the other yaksha do with each other every day. And Xiao… even if he wanted to, he would not know how to join them.

Bit by bit, the warm, heavy air and the others’ clear auras lull Xiao into a sort of trance. Even when the water stops splashing and footsteps begin to echo around him, Xiao does not stir, because— why would he? His weak mind has already convinced him that none of the beings here will harm him, or allow him to be harmed, and there are no traces of darkness nearby to rouse him to action.

“…Is he asleep?” Bosacius asks, voice echoing and distant.

“No.” That must be the Master. “But it is as close to rest as I have ever seen him.”

“Well, I’m glad he was able to find some comfort in all of this. Every time we meet, he seems so…” Indarias trails off.

“Indeed. However, I believe his resistance to help is not because of stubbornness or hatred, but rather an inability to see beyond a thousand years of lessons learned through pain.”

Someone makes a soft, hurt noise.

“Already he has seen progress, though, and I must thank you all for that.”

“We’re happy to help, Lord Rex! When Bonanus brought me to meet him for the first time, I was nervous, because… well. The stories, you know? But it turns out he’s just shy and”— Bosacius’s voice lowers— “afraid most of the time. Of us. And I don’t want that.”

“You all like him.” A rumbling voice states more than asks, and a general murmur of assent follows.

“Hm.”

A large hand comes to rest on Xiao’s forearm, just for a moment, but it is enough for Xiao to feel the stone-shifting aura that accompanies it.

Then it lifts away, and the Master’s more familiar touch wraps around Xiao’s back and legs. He is lifted, moved in a rush of wind and light— and after some time, his back meets an expanse of soft silkiness before the Master’s aura slowly fades away. Xiao is left alone.

He opens his eyes.

The Master had caught Xiao distracted and weak, personally carried him back to the palace, and left without giving any orders, and yet… the panic Xiao know he should feel is only a dull gnawing in the pit of his stomach. Is it because his mind is still hazy from his trance?

He’s afraid. Of us. And I don’t want that.

…Is he? No, he thinks, Bosacius and Indarias and Bonanus are meant to fear Xiao, and Menogias should feel nothing but hatred.

You all like him.

It’s all too much— too much that Xiao does not understand, too many things that should not be, but are anyway. Slipping from his room and out to the opposite balcony, Xiao lets the wind carry him away from Jueyun Karst and into the night. Perhaps if he flies fast enough, he’ll even be able to escape his own thoughts.

--

Aether fits in well enough at the teahouse, even with its new employees, clients, and atmosphere. He still brews fragrant tea and bakes fragile sweets that garner compliments from customers all across Teyvat, and as a master of Liyue tea ceremony, he never receives anything less than effusive reviews.

…Is it too arrogant for him to feel rather proud of that last fact?

But with Aether’s success comes constant work, and with constant work comes overwhelming exhaustion— enough that his failing body can occasionally overcome his fear of sleep.

And when he sleeps, the nightmares always come.

Aether dreams of Xiao leaving him behind, of course, and of Lumine falling into darkness— but now, it seems, he is also cursed to relive the burden of old worlds and older memories. Cursed to relive his first failure.

He recalls flashes of great nations at war; of ash and blood at the borders in complete contrast with jeweled kingdoms of the heartlands. Remembers waking in the midst of it all, Lumine at his side, the two of them experienced enough to understand they were visiting a world in the throes of death, but still naïve and new enough to their powers to think that it was something they could fix.

There had been an Empress, a warrior and champion of her people, with sturdy arms, close-cropped dark hair, and fire in her eyes. She’d welcomed Aether and Lumine to her court, and encouraged their attempts at peace even as she fought back other nations and planned invasions of her own; and they had believed that finally, this would be the place in which they could make a change.

He remembers that Lumine had loved the Empress, in a way none of her previous affections could match— and the Empress had adored her in return. Aether had taken over their wedding preparations with glee.

The battles between nations were spacing out, slowly but surely, and the weary refugees that poured into the Empress’s country had seemed to signal coming peace. Surely, Aether had thought, they would at last be able to settle down and make this world their home.

Then an assassin brought in through the refugee camps made it to the heartland and killed the Empress’s father in his sleep. And in the name of hatred and fear, the Empress ordered every one of those camps burned to the ground.

The spark of war had reignited, unstoppable, and the Empress had fallen beneath her lover’s trembling blade. It had been the beginning of the end for them all.

Aether can only hope he will be long gone before Teyvat faces her own destruction as well.

--

“Ready, Xiao?” Bonanus whispers at his back as a wave of howling spirits descend upon them.

The first slash of Xiao’s spear is his answer, and together they dance. Never before has Xiao so restrained his powers in a fight, never before has he been so attentive to every twitch of movement around him.

He pierces through a body of darkness, closes his eyes against the explosion of ash that follows. Serrated claws reach for his back, but Xiao does not turn, does not turn— and then they are gone, cut down by Bonanus’s blades. Just as she had promised.

They meet in the middle of the storm, part again. There is no talk now. Bonanus may be flighty, but in battle she is focused and precise, and though she is still young, Xiao has come to respect her far more than any of the great adepti that once belonged to Saizhen’s army.

Xiao twists, swings. Arcs of wind accompany his every strike to cut down swathes of shades and push back the miasma. Alone, he would have surely put on the mask and unleashed all that the seal holds back, but with Bonanus by his side…

Ash and shadow whisper in the stillness when the battle ends.

Distantly, Xiao watches as a drop of ichor slips down his arm, and he forces himself to remain standing when Bonanus slumps against him, her breathing thin and ragged. With the shades now destroyed, the old gods’ seething hatred can turn to karma upon their Hearts— but Xiao is long familiar with the pain of it. Bonanus is not. So even if all he can do is hold her up, he will.

After a minute, Bonanus lifts her head. “See, Xiao? You did it,” she rasps.

Xiao blinks slowly. He’d fought beside her. Cut down their enemies without tearing her apart with them. Made her stronger.

“…Thank you, Bonanus,” he whispers.

With clear effort, she pulls herself to standing and pats him on the arm. “We’ll never make you fight alone again.”

--

An unexpected result of working at a teahouse closer to the city is the increase in visits from the rich and politically important figures of Liyue— and, most concerningly for Aether, one Lady Ganyu.

Their meetings are mostly just in passing as Aether performs tea ceremony for various configurations of the Liyue Qixing, but still, he’s pretty sure the universe is just toying with him. Unfortunately, he can’t exactly avoid her, not when he has a reputation to maintain, so Aether sucks it up, puts an extra layer of paints on his face and dye in his hair, and does his job.

As it turns out, it’s not so bad, at least at first. They make polite conversation as required by their respective stations, and Ganyu doesn’t seem to recognize him at all from their brief past interactions, so Aether can breathe a little easier. She is formal, of course, and so is Aether, but the more he speaks with her, the clearer her intelligence and loyalty become. Of all the people in this day and age of the city, she is perhaps the person he wants to be friends with the most— so of course she’s also the most forbidden.

But Aether can handle disappointment, and circumstances have made them into something of acquaintances anyway, so… its fine.

Then time passes. The teashop owner changes again. The Liyue Qixing cycle through another batch of officials. And Ganyu and Aether remain the same.

He can see her suspicion growing with every new visit. After all, no matter how Aether disguises his real face while wearing the costume of tea ceremony, he doesn’t have the skill to create multiple identities for himself— so all Ganyu sees is a boy who has served her tea for year upon year, unchanging.

Aether waits on edge, turns down requests from the Liyue Qixing when he can risk it, prepares yet another escape plan should Ganyu decide to bring his immortality to light.

But she keeps coming to the teahouse, merely watching him in curious silence— and as time passes, her cold caution wanes once more. Instead, she offers him tiny smiles, as if of some unknown, shared secret, and courtesy gifts in the form of flowers every time she visits.

Aether gives up. Apparently not even the powerful, longstanding divines of Liyue themselves seem wary of a mysterious immortal in their midst. Wryly, he wonders if all his desperate efforts to remain unseen and unremembered for so long have been for nothing after all.

--

The Master sends out another invitation, and when Xiao arrives on Qingyun Peak with the rest of the yaksha, he is startled to find Ganyu, Moon Carver, Mountain Shaper, and Cloud Retainer already there and waiting. But though this is the largest gathering the Master has called him to yet, Xiao thinks nothing of it until they are all circled around the stone platform before Moon Carver’s altar.

“It has been some time since we have all had the opportunity to train together,” the Master says. “And I thought today would be an excellent chance for our new yaksha to display their abilities.” He waves a hand. “Xiao and Ganyu, why don’t you go up first?”

Xiao’s legs carry him to the center of the ring, but his mind is frozen, screaming. Training? But he’d been so sure, with this Master, instead of Saizhen— no it cannot be, not after all this time and all his kindness. None of the other adepti seem fearful or despairing, so the Master’s training must— must not be deadly.

Yes. That seems correct. He will pit his adepti against each other, but won’t ask them to kill or be killed. Xiao doesn’t want to— cannot so much as stand the picture of Ganyu’s body limp on the end of his blade as she bleeds out into the dust. So he can hold back against her, carefully put on a show for the Master and make sure to be struck down by Ganyu first.

Even so, it takes Xiao far too long to call his spear to hand.

Ganyu draws her bow, but does not step into a battle stance, and the choice only sends Xiao into deeper confusion. Why? Is she so certain that she can win? Ganyu is strong, to be sure, and has almost killed Xiao before; but in a direct, offensive fight…

“Begin!” The Master’s hand falls, and Xiao has no more time to think.

Shooting forward on a gale, he aims straight for Ganyu’s chest, waiting for her to block or dodge to the side. But her eyes only grow wide as Xiao closes in, and her arm only just begins to lift, too slow, too slow—

At the last second, Xiao wrenches his weapon to the side, so that the blade only cuts shallowly across her ribs and bow arm. Ganyu shrieks and stumbles as bright red spatters to the ground, and— why isn’t she fighting back? But Xiao can still make the charade work, to save them both.

He whips around without hesitation, striking this time for her lower back, and then—

“Stop.”

The Master’s voice rings out like a furious gong of war, and Xiao is slammed face-first to the ground by a wave of divine geo power, his spear flinging from his hand and away into the grass. He keeps very, very still, watching from the corner of his eye the way Cloud Retainer and Menogias stand tensed and ready, the way Bosacius has shrunken back in horror.

“Xiao,” says the Master, low and even. “Explain yourself.”

Is his failure in holding back against Ganyu when he should have killed her instead, or in having injured her when he was not meant to touch her at all? Xiao cannot panic, cannot make another mistake, not when Ganyu’s life may be in his hands as well.

“I’m sorry, Master,” he pleads. “Give us another chance. I was the only one holding back, Ganyu knew nothing, I swear. It won’t happen again, so please—”

“You were restraining yourself?”

“Yes, Master,” Xiao whispers.

A long silence falls over them, with only chirping birds and Ganyu’s tiny huffs to break the stillness.

“Tell me, Xiao. What was Saizhen’s training like for you?”

“He would— gather his adepti and make us train in pairs. One would win and the other would die. It was the fastest way to thresh out the weakest of his army. But Master,” Xiao says desperately, “I know you will not ask us to do the same, so I—”

“He forced you to slaughter each other for his entertainment,” the Master says with such palpable disgust that Xiao is stunned into silence.

“Come, Xiao. For now, you will rest and watch a training session that is training and not senseless bloodshed.”

So Xiao curls into himself just outside the ring, safely away from the other adepti, and once Ganyu is pulled aside by the Master for healing, Moon Carver and Cloud Retainer take to the field.

First they bow to each other, formal and graceful, then move slowly to meet in the middle, Cloud Retainer’s beak to Moon Carver’s lowered forehead. Only then does the battle begin.

Lost, disbelieving, Xiao watches as their powers twine around each other, more of a dance than a fight, just like his practices with Bonanus. His gaze flicks between them as they slip in and out of mortal form with liquid grace, exchanging steel for elements for steel again.

This is the Master’s training? It seems so pointless, a give and take of power without gaining anything in exchange, a battle for the sake of art, not death.

But perhaps… is this what Aether had intended when he’d asked to spar on their last day together in the valley?

Xiao wants with a fervor he can feel down to his bones.

Notes:

haha angst go brrrr

<3

Chapter 16: Fifth Thread: Rewind

Notes:

Bending the timeline like a paperclip when im bored-

Also im noticing a pattern between weirdly rude, unconstructive comments and comments made anonymously...

TW: Varyingly graphic deaths
(5/29/23: Yaksha names updated according to 2.7 reveal)

Aether opens his eyes to the bare walls and clean sheets of a Bubu Pharmacy patient’s room, and it’s just another reminder that his time on Teyvat is limited after all.

Looking inward, Aether prods at the void of his core and tries to push aside the ache that comes along with it. Weak as it is now, it’s amazing that his body is still working at all. Distantly, he recalls collapsing mid-work at the teashop, right at the feet of— blue hair, red horns, wide eyes— Lady Ganyu. Wonderful. Of all the times for his strength to fail…

But it’s already done, and there’s no point in worrying about anything but the future, now.

A knock comes at the door, and Aether sits up, expecting the herbalist or maybe even his fretful, elderly boss. When Ganyu walks in instead, he nearly falls off the bed.

“Aether.” She gives a relieved sigh as she crosses the room. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

In a moment of strange rebellion against himself, Aether had given her his real name a few years ago— but now that he’s away from the teahouse and out of his armor of face paints and elegant robes, he hopes he won’t end up regretting it.

“Lady Ganyu,” he greets nervously. “You didn’t have to come. I’m sorry to have worried you.”

She lays a gorgeous bundle of glaze lilies on the bedside table. “What kind of Qixing secretary would I be if I did not care for the health of my people?”

“I think one sick teahouse servant is rather out of your jurisdiction,” Aether says drily. “But thank you anyway.”

“Yes, well.”

Ganyu looks a little ill too, Aether realizes. Her clothes are more casual here than at their usual formal teahouse events, but more than that, she looks disheveled; harried, and the swollen shadows under her eyes speak of an exhaustion Aether is all too familiar with.

He really, really shouldn’t involve himself more than necessary, but…

“Lady Ganyu, are the Liyue Qixing overworking you again? Pardon my directness, but you look almost more worn down than I feel.”

Ganyu laughs wearily. “It’s not the Qixing this time, but rather my duties for Rex Lapis. I’m sure you have heard of the increasing miasmas and shades encroaching on the land? Even the great powers of the yaksha are not enough to subdue it all, so I have been called to the fight as well.”

Aether’s heartrate picks up. The yaksha. The group that, according to stories and swarming rumors, includes an adeptus who is almost certainly Xiao. This is the first he’s heard Ganyu speak of them, but no matter how badly he wants to ask… truth or not, the knowledge will only hurt him when he won’t be able to return to Xiao’s side either way.

“I see. Well, please make sure to take care of yourself when you can, Lady Ganyu. Both Liyue and the Feiyun Teahouse would be worse off without you.” He tries for a teasing smile.

But Ganyu meets his eyes with a solemn gaze. “You should take care of yourself as well, Aether. I would miss you if you were gone.”

And with that final, stunning remark, she bows and takes her leave.

Aether’s thoughts flip flop between happiness that he’s found— a friend?— and fear that such an attachment will only come crashing down around him in the end. But at the very least, he can take her request to heart.

Reluctantly, Aether asks to cut his long hours— his all-too-caring boss nearly cries with joy— and starts hitching rides on farmers’ carts instead of walking when he needs to visit the city. In the mornings and evenings, he follows patrolling millelith or exorcists on his way through town. Monster and spirit attacks are growing more common, after all, and with the state his body is in now, he might not even be able to run.

Aether looks at his current funds, makes a visit to the Feiyun Commerce Guild to inquire about his yet-unclaimed investment, hears the amount, and promptly turns tail out the door. He’ll make do with the mora he has on hand.

The money with the Guild can remain a problem for future future Aether.

--

The old gods fester in their grudges and hatred, and now Xiao and the other yaksha have time to do little but fight and recover and fight again. The Master sends more and more adepti to assist them, and often joins the battle himself— but even he cannot be everywhere at once. And so their fall begins.

There is some terrible irony in that, although Xiao’s Heart is the closest to shattering; though he is the only one not being purified by the earth like Indarias, Bonanus, and Menogias, or by some trusted friend like Bosacius— he is the one most resistant to the corruption that weighs heavier and heavier upon them all.

After almost every battle now, Xiao is left to pin his partner’s arms to the ground as they writhe and scream in agony, or put on the mask and unleash his own powers just to save the others from a few more moments of misery in battle. It is strange that despite the certainty of blood and pain, and, in the end, death— Xiao’s Heart feels as if it might tear itself apart when he watches the other yaksha’s suffering.

Bosacius’s once-constant energy grows quiet and subdued, while Indarias’s moods become ever more fragile. Bonanus is exhausted all the time, no matter how long she rests, and Menogias empties out, his face blank and even his strictness draining away into apathy. And Xiao— Xiao takes on whichever of their burdens he can, because he can, and he can no longer deny he cares for them now.

The sun is bright and the sky is clear on the day of their first loss.

Xiao carries Indarias in his arms, stumbling over the northern mountains and away from a handful of pursuing shades, both of them already pushed to the limit after days of battle all alone. But even as slow as they are, Xiao can still outstrip their enemies when he must, and the only thought in his mind is that of returning to Jueyun Karst and the Master, where Indarias might be healed. His inattention is a fatal mistake.

As they pass over the caverns and great seal in which the Chi’s head lies entombed, something… weakens. Shifts. Cracks.

The ground opens up beneath Xiao’s feet, but he and Indarias do not fall— instead, they are both hurled back, then crushed into the ground by a towering flood of shadow and miasma and thousands of years of the Chi’s condensed hate.

Xiao knows his mouth is open in a soundless howl as his Heart cracks even through the Master’s seal, but he has no concern for himself when Indarias’s maddened screams are echoing to his ears even through the storm. Mindlessly, Xiao drags his shattered body forward, clinging to nothing but the bright tie of the Master’s contract and the scrap of Aether’s offering to keep his sanity intact.

It only takes him a minute to reach Indarias’s side. By the time his fingers brush over her arm, he knows it is already too late.

Her blackened aura pulses with her final wish, her last thought. And this time, Xiao does scream— a ragged, wild sound that is instantly drowned out by Indarias’s fiery sacrifice. Her body unravels, power spinning itself over the chasm in the Chi’s prison and forcing the god back and back with a strength that can only come from death. Even the Master’s first seal cannot compare.

The world falls still in a moment, even the wind and earth silencing themselves in lament. In Xiao’s destroyed hands lies the flickering coil of Indarias’s Heart— the only thing truly left of her on the mortal plane.

Take my Heart, Xiao. I trust you. Please, don’t let me go to waste.

Xiao does not deserve to be the bearer of her final wish, but neither will he defile her memory by refusing it.

And as the great clamor and rush of the Master and his army descends from the sky, a response to the broken seal, Xiao tips her Heart down his throat and knows no more.

--

As always, restaurants and teahouses are hubs for the latest gossip of Teyvat, and that is how Aether is one of the first to hear that the Pyro Archon is dead, only a handful of years after the Anemo Archon had vanished— and how he learns that Rex Lapis is now the only one of the original seven Archons still in power. Aether may be a creature born outside of time, but the news still manages to make him feel old.

At least the people of Liyue seem— well, not happy exactly, but certainly proud of their Archon and his legacy, if the whispers on the street are anything to go by. After all, Rex Lapis has survived where the others had not, ruled where others had abandoned their posts, and never failed to protect Liyue’s prosperity.

Aether just wonders if the gods of this world ever grow lonely.

--

When Bosacius falls, it is not in a glorious moment of triumph or tragic sacrifice.

Instead, he slips in the midst of battle, a mistake made simply of pain and exhaustion— and it is all the nearest shade needs to engulf him whole. Xiao whirls instantly, but he is too far, too far. With a roar, Menogias lunges instead, bow tossed aside in favor of tearing stone claws through the shade’s body, and for a single, frozen moment, Xiao believes Bosacius will make it out.

The silent crack of a worn Heart shattering cuts through the glassy stillness, and without hesitation, Menogias forms an arrow and drives it all the way through Bosacius’s chest. His body falls limp alongside the ruined shade, just another demon now, and Xiao and Menogias plunge back into the fight because there is nothing else they can do.

By the time the moon sets, every last trace of darkness has been purged, but it is no victory.

Xiao sets Bosacius’s remains ablaze, returning them to the earth, while Menogias silently gathers his greatsword, empty Vision, and a few glimmering slivers of his Heart. When they return to Bonanus and give her the proof of their failure, she only clutches the fulgurite slivers to her chest and sinks soundlessly to her knees. Not a word is spoken when Xiao and Menogias join her on the ground, nor when the Master quietly arrives to bear Bosacius’s weapon to its place on the ever-expanding memorial of fallen adepti.

In truth, it was near a miracle that an adeptus as young as Bosacius had survived for so long under such a dark karmic debt. But even so, Xiao had hoped.

As he looks at Bonanus’s broken form, he knows he will never do so again.

--

Trapped by his own body and without work to keep him distracted, Aether gives into his emotions again and builds another altar to Xiao, this one even smaller and more pitiful than the first. Maybe he should be ashamed of his tiny stack of flat stones when he’s meant to be showing reverence to a powerful divine, but somehow, he doesn’t think Xiao would mind.

He won’t use it, he promises himself— but as long as it’s there, he can at least pretend, right?

--

Bonanus approaches Xiao one rare, peaceful evening, her steps heavy and her aura dulled and gray.

“I won’t last much longer,” she says, staring out into the horizon. “And I don’t want my death— Bosacius’s death— to be for nothing. So please,” she bows her head. “If there is any way I can follow in Indarias’s steps, any way I can protect the yaksha who remain…”

And Xiao understands.

They end up standing in the gloomy pit of Cujiue Slope, just the Master and Xiao and Menogias, all gathered around Bonanus as she seizes her way through a final wave of karmic agony.

“Are you sure, Bonanus?” The Master murmurs, his gaze passing over the many pillars surrounding them. “I could— reinforce this seal again; or put your Heart in stasis like Xiao’s, for as long as it lasts.”

“You already know it won’t work, Lord Rex,” she laughs quietly. “Not when the seal must be broken first before you can truly rebuild it. And none of us can afford to defend against what might come out now.”

Her voice carries a soft thread of… teasing, and of bitter regret. Distantly, Xiao wonders when he’d stopped fearing the Master’s wrath over such disrespectful speech.

The Master’s forehead meets Bonanus’s, just for a moment, a god blessing his beloved friend.

Then Bonanus kneels in the shallow waters of the pit, and Menogias places a stone-tipped claw at the hollow of her throat. “May we meet again in Celestia.”

A bright light flashes— and Bonanus’s power spills out over the pit and seal and even the entire slope, weaving a net of tide and current and securing itself firmly between the Master’s nine pillars. Just like the Chi’s head, Saizhen’s creeping hatred is silenced utterly, the thick, choking air around them lifts, and Xiao can breathe again.

But as the seal flexes, just before Bonanus’s strength slams it all back into place, Xiao can feel the slightest brush of… something. A strange glow buried deep in the ruin, a misery that pulses in time with Saizhen’s rage. Surely, there cannot be…

Bonanus’s Heart clinks to the ground, impossibly loud, and Xiao’s moment of doubt is swept away, inconsequential.

--

It is an unusually thorough bout of house cleaning and a single moment of weakness that prompts Aether to open the dusty box on his bedside table.

Inside, Ganzhi’s hairpin is still smooth and whole, if discolored by age— but the old qingxin blossom is gone, flaked to nothingness over a thousand years. A memory and promise now wiped from existence.

Aether sits down hard, staring into the half-empty box in his hands. It feels rather symbolic, somehow, a true end to any hope of restoration they might once have had. Perhaps Xiao has already forgotten him. Even for an immortal, it’s been long enough.

--

With the two deepest wells of ancient grudges across Liyue— Saizhen’s body and the Chi’s head— now flawlessly sealed away, the yaksha’s duties decrease dramatically, and Xiao is left adrift.

Menogias… tolerates him, and perhaps even supports him, but their bond is one formed only of bloodshed and necessity, and Xiao therefore has no reason to seek his company outside of battle. Other, younger adepti seem either wary of or awed by his strength, so he does not spend time with them either.

The Master is not a person Xiao would dare to bother in his hours of blank idleness, though the fact that he can even consider such a course makes him shiver. And as time creeps forward and more and more adepti move on or return to the Ley, the grand feasts and gatherings of old grow few and far between, so there are no invitations for Xiao to respond to either.

This aching emptiness, and the pain that has begun to seep back into his body, even past the Master’s seal, is how Xiao finds himself trailing along behind Ganyu whenever she visits Jueyun Karst. How he ends up in the cavern springs below Aocang, sitting quietly at the edge of a pool and listening to the Master tell Ganyu of a day he had spent disguised as a mortal in the Harbor. How he is assigned to train other adepti in in his speed and battle skill; and how his wanderings lead him to observe the lives of merchants, pilgrims, and the weak soldiers with white robes and silver blades who roam the hills around Liyue Harbor.

Still, he has to hold himself back from entering the realm of the city fully. Even if he had not posed such a threat to the mortals living there, his desire to find Aether can never be indulged.

--

The day Aether begins wearing Ganzhi’s hairpin alongside the feathered clip from Lumine is the same day a short man with piercing amber eyes puts forth a request for a tea ceremony at the Feiyun Teahouse.

It’s rather short notice, but the man— who had written only “Baoshen” on his request— had been polite and otherwise accommodating, and had not hesitated to pay full price— so Aether passes his kitchen duties to another employee and prepares to host a tea ceremony instead.

When he enters the private room to see his guest as the only occupant, his heart drops a little. Although one of Aether’s required skills as an entertainer for high society is maintaining lively conversation, most of his customers come in groups and prefer to talk only to each other, and Aether is more than happy to oblige. Lone guests like this tend to be… difficult, or particular, or even disturbing, so Aether usually does all he can to subtly move them along before his patience runs out.

Unfortunately, just as with Lady Ganyu, he still has a job to do and a reputation to uphold, so he carries on with his professional mask firmly in place.

Each cup and pot and utensil of the teaset is laid out, piece by piece, perfectly in place. Aether performs a kneeling bow, hands over the washing bowl and cloth. The teacups are brushed out, and spun so their glazed patterns all face the matching compass directions. Precise. Graceful. Master Yi’en would be proud, he thinks.

“Greetings, Lord Baoshen.” Aether bows again once he returns to his side of the table. “It is an honor to serve you today.”

“Likewise, it is an honor to meet such a famous master of the arts. Particularly one so clearly skilled in older traditions as yourself.” Baoshen smiles, warm and inviting, and Aether is momentarily thrown by its openness. “Perhaps it is an unusual request, but might I ask for your name before we begin? None of the people who spoke so highly of your skill seemed to know it.”

That is an unusual request, when clients typically only refer to Aether as “sir” when they must and nothing at all when they don’t. But though Aether could be suspicious of Baoshen’s intentions, something about the man’s genuine curiosity is putting Aether at ease. Maybe too at ease, when—

“Indeed, I rarely find the need to share it. My name is Aether. And now that you know my dark secret, I’m afraid you’re bound to be our customer here forever.” He quirks a careful smile and waits.

Aether often has to pick his humor carefully depending on the client he happens to be serving— and he has made mistakes before, though never unfixable ones. But with any luck, his first impression of Baoshen will be correct…

The man laughs, an elegantly restrained, but not unamused sound. Good.

“How cruel, Master Aether. I suppose I will simply be forced to suffer excellent tea and company until the end of my days, then.”

Aether lifts a brow. “Excellent company? Though we’ve only just met?”

“Even your first impression has already surpassed my expectations, and I have no doubt you will continue to do so. Now, shall we start with some of that roasted jasmine? The smell has been enticing me ever since I walked through the door.”

--

There is a human girl.

A girl bloodied and limp in Xiao’s arms, a girl hidden in a cave Xiao had failed to see, a girl surrounded by scattered herbs and the cold light of an untouched Vision.

A girl he has killed.

Blindly, Xiao pours his strength into her small body, desperate for her to live, live, live, but though her limbs begin to twitch, the spark of her soul does not reignite—

And then broad hands are pulling Xiao back by the shoulders, separating him from the girl and cutting off the flow of his power.

“Xiao, enough. You’ve done all you can.”

Menogias.

Xiao stops fighting, and in a moment, he is wrapped in the sorrowful warmth of the Master’s aura instead. In Menogias’s hold, the girl’s eyes open, but they are dull, uncomprehending, nothing more than a ghost bound by flesh.

“I can take her to the Harbor and find her a place there. Lord Rex—”

“Yes. I will take care of him.” The Master pulls Xiao in until his weight rests entirely upon him. “Thank you, Menogias.”

--

“But how is it possible that the entire economy of Teyvat is sustained on a single currency produced in a single country?” Aether presses, meeting his guest’s gaze straight on.

Baoshen stares back calmly. “Undeniably, it would be troubling if the currency was a mere token, or signifier of wealth. But mora is a catalyst of power, imbued with the strength of the Geo Archon himself, and as such, it would difficult for other nations to replace a mode of exchange that has value in and of itself. Moreover, the fair distribution of currency is ensured by a contract between the Geo Archon and every other nation. There cannot be a greater guarantee.”

“What if the Geo Archon breaks his word? Or if another Archon defeats him and restricts the flow of mora?” Both seem fairly unlikely, but all Aether wants is to keep the conversation going. Over many years and a handful of visits, Baoshen has become an unexpected friend, much like Ganyu, and Aether looks forward to these rare chances to engage the man’s extensive knowledge and wit.

“Impossible. After all, even the Geo Archon must face the Wrath of Rock for a reneged contract, and as he is by far the oldest god remaining on Teyvat, there are no others who could hope to match his strength in a fight for the throne.”

“How would he face the Wrath of Rock when… well, he is the wrath?”

Aether startles when Baoshen’s amber eyes flash and his voice drops low.

“The punishment for breaking a promise carved into the land cannot be dispensed by gods alone, else all nations would be plagued by deceit and suffering and mistrust. No, it is the Ley from which the gods were born that judges their actions— and no gain from an unfulfilled contract is worth the price of being unraveled from existence itself.”

Aether blinks, settles back on his heels. Well. If he’d had suspicions before, they’re certainly confirmed now. The fact that he’s been serving tea not just to a wealthy public figure, not just to an immortal, not even just to an adeptus; but to Rex Lapis himself—

For so long, he’d lived in fear of being discovered by Liyue’s immortals and destroyed as a threat. How ironic, then, that he’s become most comfortable in front of the most dangerous one of all.

--

Xiao grips the scrap of paper in trembling fingers, staring helplessly at the hasty brushstrokes of Menogias’s final words.

I am going on a journey from which I do not plan to return, for I fear my Heart and body will soon fail no matter what I do.
I have sealed what is left of my treasure in stone beside my birthplace. It is yours if you wish it.
Thank you, Xiao, for everything. I’m sorry.

Farewell.

Silently, Xiao sinks down to the floorboards of his too-luxurious palace room, shaking and shaking.

The other yaksha are all dead or gone or released from duty. Xiao stands alone, the only one whose Heart was strong enough, broken enough, to withstand the agony of karmic debt; the only one who will bear the title of “yaksha” from now on, in order to save all others from such a wretched path.

It seems that even now, after all this time, Xiao’s presence is still a curse, one that only the handful of those stronger than he is can escape. He aches.

 

Even the seal of Rex Lapis himself cannot defend a Heart against wounds carved from the inside out.

--

Aether grows weaker and weaker, his little remaining energy apparently determined to empty itself as quickly as possible— until finally, upon his third collapse, his terrified boss— the gentle third daughter of the Liang family head— bans him from coming into work at all.

With a safe place to live, kind neighbors, and more money than he knows what to do with, Aether really has no argument against her. He goes home and wonders if it’s time to resign himself to however many empty years he might have left.

What he doesn’t expect is the generosity of the Liang family, and, in fact, the entirety of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. He’s always had connections with them by virtue of Ganzhi and Bachi’s legacy and his own bit of fame in the teahouse— but it turns out their investment in his life is far greater than he’d ever imagined.

At least twice a week, a member of the family will make the trip down to Aether’s tiny home, bringing supplies, ferrying him to and around the city, or simply keeping him company. He meets elderly men who have known him their entire lives, wide-eyed girls who beg him for stories from their family’s history, and even the heads of the various branch families, most of whom bafflingly treat Aether as if he occupied a station equal to or greater than their own.

He never quite reaches the same easy connection with any of them the way he had with Ganzhi, but even so… somehow, he finds himself far less lonely than he had been while surrounded by people at the teahouse. His only regret is that he has vanished without managing to tell Rex Lapis and Lady Ganyu (and what a sentence that is) where he has gone.

Of course, the deeper ache is always there too, throbbing sharp every time he passes the innocent pile of stones beside his house or pins up his hair with a certain feathered clip, but he’s well learned how to ignore it by now.

--

Sometimes, Xiao will sit quietly across from the Master and watch him eat, just the two of them at an empty table in an empty hall in an empty palace.

The smell of the feast makes his stomach turn, and he’s long since learned that attempting to bring so much as a scrap to his lips only ends in a mouthful of black bile and misery. But he is alone, and being in the presence of the Master’s aura of gentle melancholy no longer sets his body to panicked trembling— so Xiao stays.

When the Master is done, they will together walk in silence back to their rooms, shoulders barely brushing, and Xiao will hold very still as the Master presses a kiss to his forehead before they part for night. Then the Master will rest and Xiao will wait until a rising thread of shadow in the distance reaches his senses and calls him to battle.

Pain constantly wracks his body again, and when he brushes his senses over the seal upon his Heart, it shivers and bends. He wonders if he has any time left at all.

--

Aether runs into a girl with a tangle of white-blond hair and bright eyes, who is struggling to tug her over-large cart of trinkets and scraps down the road. When she comes to a stop just in front of Aether’s house, red-cheeked and sweating, he offers her a snack and a cup of chilled tea because— well. Does he really need a reason to help an exhausted child?

She seems wary when she accepts, and Aether can’t blame her, so they stay outside under a tree, safely in sight of the road. And when the girl is done, he buys from her a glass figurine of a phoenix with one wing snapped off, and may just forget to count exact change when he passes her a whole handful of mora.

Staring, her gaze flicks from the money, up to Aether’s face, and back again; and if there is a single good thing about wealth, it is giving to those who need it. Aether smiles and nudges her back to her cart, she trundles off with a shy little wave, and he expects that will be the end of it.

He is wrong.

--

Wind whispers through the reeds of Dihua Marsh, as empty and echoing as Xiao’s Heart.

He’d almost given in to his weakness that day, almost gone into the city to search for the soul that might bring him a moment’s true rest before his end— but the Master’s sudden call to a meeting with him and Ganyu at the palace had put a swift and jarring end to the impulse.

So he wanders through the shallow flats, aimless, the trailing ends of his clothing growing heavy with water. Like that, it takes Xiao far too long to recognize the faint, trilling song that rides in on the breeze. Aether’s song.

In an instant, Xiao is launching himself across the marsh, every sense straining toward the source of the melody. Aether cannot be this far out into the wilds, not now, so who—

Xiao slows, then stills when he catches sight of towering white wings that sprout from beneath a frilled green cape, and glowing braids that frame a boy’s hidden face. They have never met before, but that doesn’t matter when the aura is unmistakable. This is the Master’s friend, the Anemo Archon.

The Archon’s flute shines in the moonlight, and he does not pause in his playing, though he must have felt Xiao’s presence by now. The familiar notes of Aether’s lament wash over Xiao, and it hurts, old memories opening up fresh wounds—

But the songs of the Anemo Archon carry an unmatched power, and Xiao can feel his Heart calming, too, the corruption pulling back with a hiss and the pain seeping from his limbs.

Such comfort will not last, Xiao already knows. For now, it is enough. It has to be enough.

-*-

Time ticks onward, steady and relentless.

The Archons change and change again. It is fitting, perhaps, that where plants wither, ice melts, and water ever cycles away, where fire turns to ash and lightning flashes ephemeral, only the powers of air and earth stand the test of time. They may change and wear away, yes, but each is a single force, enduring until the end of days.

A young Queen with a frozen heart binds her realm in snow and plots to lay claim to the lands whose Archons conceal their identities and walk among mortals, apparently too weak to command their nations. She does not understand that those who can afford to rule from afar are the strongest of all.

A girl rises from her poverty and loneliness, twisting obstacles to her will and gathering her power until she sits upon a floating throne of her own creation, keeping order in her city with little more than a word and a touch. She never forgets the unchanging boy who kept her company in the days before.

A troubled boy walks into a snowy forest after an argument with his father and comes back changed. At a loss and desperate to protect their whole family, his parents send him away for military discipline. They could never have known he would catch the eye of the frozen Queen herself.

A boy is born, one who masters both his business and the sword, who studies endlessly and keeps impeccable manners and produces many successes, all for the sake of pursuing his true passions. But frivolous arts and adventures beyond the walls of the city do not belong to him or his family, and he is always denied.

In a grand, sprawling estate, a child falls to the ground, clutching his cheek where another boy, his training partner, has struck him. He has been blessed with powers of pure light, but in a world that does not understand such strength, to him, they are nothing but a curse.

Deep in the heart of seething darkness, a child of the stars lies imprisoned, her strength sapping ever-so-slowly away. She waits for help that does not know to come.

And above it all sits the Weaver of Fate, her hands steady over her thread, patiently waiting as the stars burn lower and the chain of destruction begins again. Her children have suffered far too long, but even she cannot simply rewrite the darkness that has denied them rest. The loom slides back into place. Their journey carries on.

Notes:

This 2000 year jump was meant to be one chapter long. ONE CHAPTER--

Chapter 17: Phoenix Fallen

Notes:

Thank you all for your kind (and surprisingly vehement) encouragement in the comments of the last chapter! Here's another one as my gift to you :))))

TW: Xiao's suffering under corruption effects

When Xiao returns from a short night of hunting and manages to stagger his way back to the palace, he finds the Master already in his study, apparently returned early from his trip to Liyue Harbor. Hastily, Xiao bites back his pain— the seal upon his Heart cracks more every night, but he cannot let the Master worry— and stands tall before walking inside.

“Ah, Xiao. Welcome back.”

The Master is sitting in a well-cushioned armchair beside the fire, an open book in his lap and steaming cup of tea at his hand. He looks… at ease; happy, even, and it is all Xiao needs to know the purpose of the Master’s visit to the city.

“Is he… well?” Xiao asks stiffly, kneeling opposite the Master’s chair instead of beside— the only place the Master will allow him to do so. “Your friend.”

The Master laughs softly. “Do I make it so obvious?”

Xiao has not seen the Master so pleased so often since the days before one of his favored… tea servers? had apparently disappeared from the harbor, but to say as much is…

“Ah, well. Childe is as lively as ever, if busy with his work. We spent a lovely afternoon at the Liuli Pavilion discussing the finer points of traditional Liyuean tea blending.” The Master’s gaze grows distant. “It has been good to engage in such conversations again.”

He closes his book, and Xiao manages to catch the title— Snezhnaya: Culture, History, and Customs— before the Master sets it aside. Then the Master leans in, his expression turning solemn.

“Today, Childe also spoke of his reason for visiting Liyue, and of his connection with the current Cryo Archon. He called himself a “Harbinger”; a soldier of his Archon’s army.” The Master lifts his teacup, sips, lowers it again. “He asked me to help him find Rex Lapis.”

Xiao starts.

“Indeed, it is strange. Naturally, I told him of the upcoming Rite of Descension, with which he was already familiar, but he seemed particularly excited when I informed him that Rex Lapis would also make his yearly visit to the Golden House shortly after.” The Master sighs. “The more I learn about Childe, the more I begin to understand, and the more concerned I become. Rather than merely an envoy between countries, I fear the Cryo Archon intends him to… well.”

Abruptly, the Master stands, shattering the tension of the moment. “Xiao, I am afraid I must ask you for a favor. This year, instead of guarding the borders of Liyue, I would like to you keep watch at the Golden House for the duration of the Rite.”

Of course Xiao has no objection, but— no matter how this “Childe” may intend to disrupt the Rite, surely the Master is powerful enough to stop his plans before they can even start. Or is he perhaps concerned for the humans that normally stand guard there?

“Yes, my lord,” Xiao says.

The Master studies him for a moment. “It is not for my own safety I fear, nor yours, nor even that of the Millelith. Rather, I intend to protect Childe, from himself if need be, and I would like you nearby to hold him back in the event that he attempts something while I am occupied in the city.”

The Rite of Descension is soon, approaching with the height of the dry season. Xiao wonders if his Heart will even last that long.

“I understand.”

--

The mask falls from Xiao’s face, and he opens his eyes to a field of blood and torn shadow— and the point of his trembling spear digging into Ganyu’s throat. Agony wracks his body as he forces his hands open, and his blade drops with a clatter. It isn’t often that he must use more than the powers of his Vision in battle, but when he does… he cannot think, cannot so much as breathe through the howling misery of it.

Ganyu’s slender arms lift him from the dust; gentle, for all that Xiao has threatened her with death, and then they are bounding away across the mountains. Every leap and landing jars through Xiao’s body, and his thoughts fade to a dark blur— until they stop, and a finger lands upon his forehead, flooding him with a starburst of the Master’s power.

“Lord Rex, please—” Ganyu sounds desperate, her voice slipping in and out of Xiao’s ears. “When I found him— he’s losing time again— can help him, right?”

The Master’s arms draw tight around Xiao’s body. “I will do my utmost.”

They move somewhere, though whether the Master takes ten steps or a thousand, Xiao cannot tell. Slowly, too slowly, the pain ebbs from his limbs, and once he can think again, he finds himself half-immersed in water— one of the endless springs that bubble up from nothing in Moon Carver’s abode. At his side, the Master is gently tugging his fingers through the long tangles of Xiao’s hair. The touch not unfamiliar, but the Master’s gesture is so utterly incomparable to Saizhen’s cruel possessiveness, it is laughable.

Xiao narrows his eyes against the glare of the eternal sunset overhead and makes to sit up.

“You’re awake. How are you feeling?” The Master’s hand withdraws from Xiao’s hair, but he does not have time to miss it before he notices the strange passiveness of the Master’s stare, the creases around his eyes.

“I am recovered, my lord,” Xiao murmurs. The Master is not angry, not at Xiao, and even if he were, he still would never lash out. What, then, is the source of the Master’s displeasure?

“Xiao,” the Master sighs. “Why did you not tell me that the seal over your Heart was breaking?”

Ah.

“Needless suffering aside, I could have— repaired it sooner, or perhaps have found an alternative way of protecting your Heart. But now…”

Xiao keeps silent, unwilling to tell the Master that no matter what he might have tried, it was already too late long ago. To renew the seal, he would have to first remove it entirely, and as the seal is the only thing holding Xiao’s Heart together… Xiao would have begun his final fall the moment it was taken away. And as for alternative methods— if there is any stronger power than the Master’s sealwork that does not require the sacrifice of life, they have yet to find it.

The Master bends his head. “All these years, and still I have been unable to fulfill the word of our contract. I’m sorry, Xiao.” His voice grows faint. “I’m sorry I could not help you find what you needed.”

Their contract is unfulfilled? Xiao struggles to recall the Master’s first promise to him. A new life…

…But the Master has given Xiao a new life, has turned Xiao’s world on its head, and has always been unflinchingly, unfailingly kind. How could the contract still be incomplete?

The sharp tap of Moon Carver’s hooves on stone shakes the Master from his stillness, and he stands, apparently mindless of the water dripping from his hands and robes. “I will— leave him in your care. Thank you, Moon Carver.”

Moon Carver bows, and, eyes gleaming strangely, the Master turns and vanishes on the spot.

“He is afraid,” Moon Carver says as he leans in, a hot breath puffing over Xiao’s cheek.

Weakly, Xiao lifts a hand to Moon Carver’s soft nose and simply rests it there. “But there is nothing left that can be done for me.”

A low hum. “Perhaps that is the very reason why.”

--

Xiao slips out from under the Master’s anxious watch and goes out to hunt, marveling that he now dares to rebel even in this small way. Marveling at just how much he trusts the Master.

The healing spring he’d lain in the day before has eased some of his pain, so Xiao’s steps are lighter than they’ve been in a long time as he skims across the ruins of Guili. It is this lightness that frees him to investigate when, as he scans the area for signs of darkness, he feels a faint pulse of adeptal energy coming from one of the crumbling plateaus ahead.

Creeping up one of the nearby hills, Xiao takes in the sight of a cluster of humans, a leader and his men, all dressed in Snezhnayan uniform and busying themselves at makeshift tables across the plateau. At this distance, Xiao can taste the energies of a sigil of permission, now worn to almost nothing. What are these humans doing?

For some time, Xiao merely observes. The leader of the group bears a hydro Vision and an unsettling aura of mist and shadow unlike anything Xiao has seen before, human or adeptus. His hair shines like copper under low light as he hops between his people, sometimes working with them, sometimes only speaking a few words before moving on to the next. The man is… familiar, though Xiao cannot explain why.

Whatever the humans are doing, they make no progress while Xiao watches—unsurprising, when the tools they work with are so weak. Perhaps he will return later to ensure they are causing no trouble, but for now, they are harmless enough to leave alone.

Xiao takes off into the fading light.

--

Ganyu invites Xiao to join her for one of her regular walks along the Luhua river, and, entirely unable to turn down one of her rare requests, he agrees.

The breeze over the water is warm and lazy, and they move with it, stopping here and there so Ganyu may pick glaze lilies and sweet flowers. For Xiao, the pauses are more than welcome— frequent rests will allow him to hide the weakness of his body for just a little longer, after all.

Ganyu, on the other hand, seems almost energized, her steps springing as she darts from flower to flower. It has been some time since Xiao has seen her anything other than exhausted, so though he cannot keep up with her, it brings him an odd warmth to see the change.

“You… look well, Ganyu,” he says quietly.

“Oh! Do I?” She puts a hand to her cheek. “Well, I suppose something good did happen.”

Xiao tilts his head.

“I wonder… do you happen to remember— quite a few years ago, now— when I told you of the immortal boy I had met in a teashop?”

Vaguely, Xiao recalls the conversation; remembers having a very similar one with the Master not so long afterward.

“He always looked so tired, even through the mask of his ceremonial wear, so when he vanished, I feared the worst.” Ganyu looks up. “But just yesterday, when I was sent to liaise between the Qixing and a trade business in the city, they took me to visit a patron of their family, and— it was him!”

With a soft giggle, she splashes a few steps through the shallows. “After the official business was done, I stayed behind with him until the evening. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed his company.”

Ganyu’s happiness fills the air like a fragrance, and Xiao finds himself relaxing just a little, even through his pain. “I see.”

Her smile only grows wider when she looks at him, but whatever she might be thinking, she does not say it. They continue on down the riverbank in peaceful silence.

“How about yourself, Xiao? Compared to when I saw you last, you seem…” Ganyu swallows visibly.

“The Master helped me. I will be fine.”

Ganyu is quiet for a long time. Then— “If you’re sure.”

She doubts him, then, but there is no reassurance Xiao can give her that would not be another lie.

--

Xiao stands waist-deep in the waters of Jueyun Karst’s largest lake, scrubbing a brush up and down the Master’s scales until they gleam. The preparations for the Rite of Descension are the same every year, though Xiao is not always the one assigned to them. Today, the Master is to be bathed and groomed; tomorrow, a different adeptus will paint his horns and scales with gold and drape him in jewels. And when the sun reaches its zenith the day after that, the Rite will begin.

Despite the throbbing of his head, cracking of his Heart, and the icy chill in his limbs that never really fades, Xiao finds himself relieved to have this task. If this is to be his last meeting with the Master before the Rite— before the seal breaks and his Heart falls apart— then he is glad to have it surrounded by lapping water and birdsong, his hands and mind busy with the meditative repetition of cleaning. Performing his only duty for the Master that does not require bloodshed.

“Xiao,” the Master rumbles, and Xiao looks up and up until he can meet one of the Master’s great amber eyes.

“Yes, my lord?”

“If you would be so kind as to listen… I have recently learned something rather… troubling regarding Childe, and I hoped to seek your advice on the matter.”

Xiao’s hands slow in their methodical circles, and he blinks. The Master wants… advice? From his servant? From Xiao?

“As you know, I spent some time in the Harbor yesterday, to fulfill a request from Director Hu and visit Childe one last time before the Rite of Descension. My first job went smoothly, and, as I was able to meet with Childe earlier than expected, we agreed upon a walk along the pier before lunch.” He pauses.

“It was a warm day, as it usually is at this time of year, and Childe insisted on a swim once we reached the water. Though the harbor is not intended for such recreation, Childe can be a rather… enigmatic man at times, so I thought nothing of it. When we reached an empty stretch of pier, he took off— ah… took off his shirt and dove.”

Then, in stark contrast with his earlier fumble, the Master makes an aching sound, one that vibrates from deep within his chest. “Xiao, his back— and arms, and chest— I had not thought it possible for a mortal to bear such scars and still survive. Even an adeptus might have been brought to the brink by such wounds as his.” The Master’s body uncoils, and he turns his head toward Xiao. “Indeed, his scars could easily be compared your own.”

Compared to Xiao’s? But then…

“He is… alive?” Xiao asks doubtfully.

The Master’s head dips. “It seems impossible, and yet…. Normally, I do my best to avoid searching the auras of mortals so as not to unfairly reveal their secrets, but with Childe, I at last made an exception.” A heavy sigh, one that ripples across the surface of the lake. “I found that he has been touched by corruption, some impure energy of the Ley— the poison and scars of which are so intertwined with his body that I doubt even my ability to heal them.”

Xiao is aware that he’s staring, but he cannot help himself. Like life-born adepti, humans are meant to connect with the Ley only through their dreams— but unlike adepti, pure exposure should mean instant death. And exposure to corruption should have birthed nothing less than a maddened demon.

“My lord,” Xiao begins, hesitant. “Are you certain…”

“Yes, I thought much the same. But no matter how deeply I searched, his aura was entirely human.” The Master rearranges his body in the water, then, until he has wrapped himself into a circle with Xiao at the center. “Perhaps this is a strange thing to ask when the bodies of humans and adepti are so different, but if you happen to know of any method with which I could… ease Childe’s suffering, I would be grateful.”

Xiao’s mind runs blank— only Aether’s offerings, Barbatos’s song, and the Master’s seal over his Heart have ever truly eased his pain, and Childe can neither access nor benefit from any of those— but the Master does not seem to expect an immediate answer.

“Thank you for your assistance, Xiao,” the Master says, rising from the water. “You should return to the palace and rest for as long as you can. Once the Rite is over and I have found another way to stabilize your Heart, perhaps we may revisit this conversation.”

…If the Master believes that Xiao’s Heart will last even that long, then Xiao refuses add to his troubles by telling him otherwise.

--

It happens in the blink of an eye, between one step and the next. Xiao’s Heart is whole, and he passes through the palace gates at dawn, already intending to take up his post at the Golden House.

The seal breaks.

And not even the worst of Saizhen’s old punishments can compare to the pain that follows.

--

“—but the Rite— Lord Rex, you cannot simply abandon—”

“ I will call the other adepti, rearrange— Ganyu is still in the city, I must—"

“Xiao, please, stay with me for just a short while longer—”

“—the seal, and I searched and searched— nothing else I can do, his Heart is already too far gone—"

“—happened? I saw him collapse—”

“…will do what we can. One will not fail you this time, Rex Lapis—"

Xiao hears it all as if through a heavy shroud, deafened by agony and blinded by the dark transformation creeping over his body. Voices— Cloud Retainer and Moon Carver and the Master and even adepti Xiao has never spoken to— batter against his skull, and it is all Xiao can do not to scream and scream, to silence them with blood and give in to the madness rising in the final fragment of his Heart.

Even the Master would have no hope of repairing it now, not without tearing out his own gnosis and offering up his very life to return Xiao’s.

“—I cannot remain any longer, and the others— when Ganyu arrives, tell her— need not participate in the Rite this time—"

“…One will do so— must go, Rex Lapis—"

A great rustle and clatter, and finally the world falls silent, leaving Xiao alone with no one in reach for him to hurt when he falls entirely.

The room fades. And then new voice reaches his ears.

“…Xiao? Xiao! What Lord Rex said— friend, the one I told you about— knows you? Do you know him?”

No, no, Ganyu is here and Xiao cannot leave, or even warn her away. He will fall and bring her down right alongside, all because the Master is far too kind, too desperate, too human to have killed Xiao when it needed to be done.

“Xiao.”

A new voice speaks, desperate and haunted, and in that moment, even the corruption consuming Xiao’s Heart seems to pause with the impossibility of it.

“If you’d told me— if I’d known you were hurting like this, even after the war, I never would have stopped searching for you, I swear it.”

 

Aether.

Notes:

It's only taken 50,000+ words lmao

Also, @an_omelette you really got me inspired lol. Hope this is what you were looking for!

Chapter 18: Dying Star

Notes:

For those of y'all who were hoping for an Aether POV, here you go :)

TW: Mentions/signs of domestic abuse

Some days before…

-*-

“My liege, we’re here to deliver today’s supplies! Are you awake?”

Ah, his favorite visitors. Reclined against a heap of pillows in bed, Aether smiles to himself. “The door is unlocked, come in!”

The front door slides open with a clatter, footsteps patter over the floorboards, and Xingqiu and Chongyun poke their heads into Aether’s room.

“My liege?”

“Good morning, Xingqiu. Who did you have to bribe to get today’s shift of visiting me?”

Xingqiu laughs. “My cousin, but she wasn’t particularly interested in the job anyway, so I only had to buy her a meal. And now we have you to ourselves for the day!”

“Indeed you do.” Aether waves them over. “Though it’s not like I could go anywhere else even if I wanted to.”

Xingqiu’s bright grin falls a little, and Aether quickly moves on.

“It’s good to see you as well, Chongyun. Did you get the day off of training?”

“Well…” Chongyun rubs at the back of his head. “Yes, but I was hoping you would help me again today…”

“Of course! I have to repay you for your help somehow, don’t I?”

The boys insist not, of course, and set about the usual chores that must be done before any of them can play. Aether is too weak now to do much more than shuffle around his tiny house, sit in the sun, and maybe pick at the food others prepare for him ahead of time. He knows he looks sickly, too— worn on top of tired, gaunt on top of slender, drained on top of pale. Were it not for the stubborn care of the Liang family, Aether would probably have been long dead by now.

Chongyun and Xingqiu do some cleaning; sweeping floors, shaking out curtains, and wiping down counters. The Jinzi teaset that they’d unearthed from Aether’s closet a few weeks ago is polished with an almost excessive delicacy. Aether supposes it’s understandable— he may only see it as a reminder of the person he will never be able to use it for, but to Xingqiu and Chongyun, it is an immortal’s priceless treasure. They display it on a side table in the living room, and Aether very carefully doesn’t say a thing.

As the sun rises higher in the sky, they prepare a few simple meals, argue over the best way to turn lotus seeds into a snack (Xingqiu wins), and pound a bowl of rice to make cakes later. Chongyun pulls his sleeves up to cook— long sleeves, even in the heat of the dry season— and both Aether and Xingqiu pretend not to see the bruises that splotch vividly across his wrists and up toward his elbows. Even if Chongyun didn’t insist it was all just from “necessary training”, neither of them have the power to do anything about it. Or in Xingqiu’s case, not yet, at least.

After the essential things are taken care of, Chongyun also goes outside to tidy the pitiful stone altar beside the house— he’d asked what it was for, once, and though Aether had only told him “an old friend”, he’d dedicated himself to maintaining it ever since. There’s not much point to it, when Aether has never even used the thing, but he appreciates Chongyun’s care nonetheless.

As always, when the work is done, they all gather behind the house— Aether in a chair under the shade of a tree and Xingqiu and Chongyun facing each other on a patch of dry grass— and finally, their training can begin.

This particular portion of Chongyun and Xingqiu’s visits had all started when their great curiosity for Aether’s immortality had inevitably turned to wondering about his ability in battle. And Aether might not even have a whisper of the strength he’d wielded before, but he does still know how to use a sword and a spear and a knife and a bow and— well, the point is, he knows technique. When they’d asked for help honing theirs, Aether had no reason to say no.

So, here they are. Aether watches carefully as Chongyun runs through a series of drills with his claymore— an enormous, shining blade etched with the exorcist family crest, one that weighs nearly as much as its wielder and stands a few inches taller. It’s a ridiculously ill-fitting weapon for a slight, graceful warrior like Chongyun, but whenever Aether broaches the topic of changing it, Chongyun only sets his jaw and insists that it’s his only option.

Still, Chongyun remains surprisingly agile with such a deadweight blade— and Aether is hardly about to withhold whatever knowledge he has that might one day keep Chongyun alive, so he does his best.

With his razor-thin sword and sharp, darting movements, Xingqiu’s fighting style is near the exact opposite of Chongyun’s. He follows the teachings of the once-prominent Guhua clan with a skill to match that of the old Guhua masters, and his certain, well-composed swordsmanship is what allows him to beat Chongyun in almost every spar, despite his shorter range and weaker hits. In truth, there isn’t much for Aether to teach Xingqiu when their sword skills are so different, so he sticks to the basics— making Xingqiu watch his posture, catching openings in his guard, and generally keeping him on his toes.

“Again,” Chongyun calls, gasping for air. “Again.”

Xingqiu stands at attention after another victory, back straight, ankles crossed, his sword angled like an arrow toward the ground. “Whenever you’re ready, Yunyun,” he agrees.

“Loosen your grip and relax between each strike,” Aether says. “You need more fluidity to block effectively and conserve energy.”

He beckons Chongyun over and demonstrates— as best he can while sitting down—where to swap his grip on the handle and the best breathing pattern for the cadence of his swings. Frowning intently, Chongyun passably copies the motions a few times before diving back into the spar.

His performance doesn’t improve much— partially because he only practiced Aether’s suggestions a handful of times, of course, but mostly because his weapon just doesn’t work for him. And in the end, there is little Aether can do about that.

Once Chongyun is flat-on-his-back exhausted and even Xingqiu is sweating and bracing himself on his knees, they take a break from swordsmanship and swap over to what Aether can most efficiently describe as the “magic” part of training.

Much like his sword skills, Xingqiu has a near-flawless control of his Vision, one that Aether can see will only improve with age and experience. He can call up water blades with edges that cut, heal in cooling streams, and even create vapor-like screens that slow and deflect incoming strikes. For Xingqiu, this portion of training is much less practice and much more showing off, not that Aether or Chongyun mind when he can vaporize the heat of the day from their skin.

As for Chongyun… he has a cryo Vision, Aether knows, but he’s only seen it once, and only for the briefest of seconds. Unlike Xingqiu, Chongyun seems to regard it as… a hinderance to his other skills, or at least an unwanted advantage, only ever using it in emergencies or, apparently, to “suppress his energy”. On their own, those words hadn’t been especially sinister, but the way Chongyun had spoken them… the mingled fear and frustration that had crept over his face as Aether watched— it had left him on-edge enough to avoid asking again.

So, in lieu of a Vision, Chongyun’s training mostly involves drawing up various charms and talismans for exorcism, then watching as most of them explode or fizzle out.

Why Chongyun does that here, Aether has no idea, because he knows little about exorcisms and absolutely nothing about Chongyun’s particular arsenal of techniques. But the explosions are exciting, at least, and if Aether can give him a safe place to experiment away from… whatever he faces at the clan estate, any incidental property damage is worth it.

--

Sometimes, on very rare occasions, Ningguang comes to visit as well.

She’s come a long way since the days of selling trinkets and shyly knocking on Aether’s door to ask for tea and a snack. Now she rules Liyue Harbor with impeccable control, commands respect from those who once spat on her, and, to her dismay and Aether’s great amusement, has become known as one of the most powerful Vision holders in the city. She wears fine robes instead of ragged dresses, lives and works in a floating palace she designed herself, and drafts policies to ensure that even the poorest of Liyue’s children will not be forced to starve.

All of that is wonderful and deserved and Aether couldn’t be prouder. The only problem is…

“Ningguang, you have secretaries and council members specifically trained for this, right?” Aether asks desperately. “There are other immortals and adepti who are specifically involved in the governance of Liyue that you could ask for advice, right? So why do you keep coming to me?”

Aether’s helpless outburst is met by a serene smile.

“There are others, yes,” Ningguang says. “But I’d much rather discuss these matters with someone I trust.”

Aether drops his face into his hands, lets his next words come out muffled. “Please, I may be old, but I’ve never been in charge of governing a country. I don’t want to be the one responsible for destroying civil order in Liyue.”

Ningguang laughs. “You’ve been giving me advice for several years now, and our nation still seems to be prospering. Besides, it’s not as if I don’t review your suggestions myself or have them approved by the rest of the Qixing when necessary.”

With a groan, Aether gives up. Again.

“Now, drink your tea before it goes cold. You wouldn’t want to waste a custom blend from the Feiyun Teahouse, would you?”

Aether looks at the cup in his hands. This blend happens to be one he’d made for the teahouse while he still worked there, but he’s hardly about to tell Ningguang that.

Apparently satisfied, she leans back in her chair. “So, concerning the proposed tariffs on imported luxury goods— based on your past observations, how do you expect the consumers would react to such a change?”

--

As the peak of the dry season approaches, so does the Rite of Descension, and a buzz of excitement begins to stir in the city once again.

The novelty of Rex Lapis’s appearances has somewhat worn off over the past millennia, of course. But between curious visitors, families with small, over-excited children, and residents attending out of respect— or because they have nothing better to do— the event still gets a sizable turnout every year. Aether has not been to a Rite since the first day it was held, but he happily absorbs the festive atmosphere nonetheless.

It is during this time that a dispute arises between a branch of the Qixing and the Feiyun Commerce Guild, born from an error in accounting and a series of suspicious cover-ups that are discovered to date back more than a hundred years. And of course, Aether is suggested as a potential source of information for clearing up the misunderstandings. Not that he knows about it until—

“Excuse me, Aether, sir.” The call accompanies a polite knocking at his door. “Apologies for the interruption, but we would like to request your assistance on some official matters for the Liyue Qixing and the Liang family.”

That voice… Xingqiu’s father?

“I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to meet you at the door. Please, let yourselves in,” Aether returns, and the sounds of a group doing just that filter in a moment later.

He expects Xingqiu’s father, but he’s more than a little surprised to see Lady Ningguang, Xingqiu’s older brother Xihu, a handful of other Liang employees and Yuehai Pavilion secretaries, and Lady Ganyu following behind.

Aether raises both eyebrows as everyone crowds in. “Lady Ningguang— and Lady Ganyu! It’s good to see you again.”

Ningguang laughs, the soft, elegant sound of one who knows their own power. “I’ll excuse the title this time, since we’re all here on official business. But must I really remind you again to dispose of the formalities?”

“My apologies, Lady Ningguang,” Aether says with a quick grin. “It’s a force of habit, I’m afraid.”

“Aether?” Ganyu says then, hushed, and suddenly a little nervous, Aether turns his attention to her.

“Ah, hello, Ganyu.” He bows awkwardly from his place in bed. “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry I never got the chance to tell you I was leaving the teahouse, but I wasn’t sure how to contact you afterward, either.”

Ganyu smiles, her eyes turning watery. “I’m just glad to see you again. After you disappeared, I wasn’t quite sure…”

Oh. Oops. “Well, here I am. If you’d like to stay after today’s business is done, or visit at a later date—”

“Of course!” Ganyu says quickly. “I’ll stay for as long as I can.”

Ningguang speaks up, a disapproving note in her voice. “You know full well that Lady Ganyu and I occasionally share work at the Yuehai Pavilion. Did you not think to contact her through me?”

Aether had, but there was no way he was going to use the Qixing Tianquan as a message runner, and an even smaller chance he’s going to tell her that now. “It didn’t seem appropriate,” he tries.

Shaking her head, Ningguang turns to the rest of the group. “Well, personal matters aside, shall we begin?”

 

As it turns out, the discrepancies and over-charges in the accounting records mostly come down to a businessman in the Feiyun Commerce Guild having artificially inflated the prices of his goods, and a supplies manager for the Qixing having authorized the exorbitant purchases in order to pocket some of the excess. Aether recalls the crime actually being discovered at the time of its occurrence, only to be swiftly buried after priorities shifted to a sudden storm over the harbor that had destroyed a concerningly large number of merchant ships.

Unfortunately, with both the original perpetrators already dead, and no members of the Liang family or Qixing staff having carried on their legacy, there isn’t much to do other than calculate old losses and balance the books for the future. The whole meeting is over in just a couple of hours, and once everyone begins to trickle out of the house, Aether falls back into his pillows with a sigh. It takes so little to exhaust him, now.

His front door shuts with a distant clack, and he turns to the only person left in the room.

“So, Ganyu,” Aether says, allowing a soft smile to pull at his lips. “My rude disappearance aside, how have you been these past years?”

Scooting her stool backwards until she can lean against the side of Aether’s bed, Ganyu sighs. “Well, to tell the truth, I’ve been growing more and more concerned for one of the other adepti back in Jueyun Karst…”

--

There are hands on his shoulder, shaking him violently. A panicked voice calls his name over and over, muffled as if underwater. Everything feels heavy, and it’s hard to breathe.

Aether opens his eyes.

Through a blur, he sees Chongyun’s disheveled snow-light hair and staring eyes, and the dull red mark that splashes from his left temple all the way down to his jaw.

“…Chongyun?” Aether manages to rasp. Why is talking suddenly so difficult?

“Aether— thank the Archons—" Without warning, Chongyun slumps, his knees hitting the floor with a thunk and his head resting on Aether’s blanket-covered arm.

Utterly lost, Aether struggles to lift his head and scan the room. Pale moonlight spilling through the window is the only source of light in the otherwise-dark house, and Chongyun seems to be here alone, without his usual bag of talismans and wearing nothing but a thin training suit.

Something is obviously wrong.

“What happened, Chongyun? Why are you here?”

Chongyun lifts his head, his marked face now devoid of expression. “I’m sorry, Aether, I didn’t mean to bother you so late. But after my father… I mean, I made a mistake on our night hunt earlier, and I thought you might let me stay here until morning.” He swallows visibly. “I only meant to see if you were awake so I could properly ask for permission, but when I came in, you looked— I thought—"

“Oh.”

To have woken from a darkness without dreams, unable to move; to feel as if his own core is trying to turn itself inside out for lack of energy to fill it…

“You can stay, Chongyun; I’m glad you came to me,” Aether whispers. “But I’m sorry. I think you might need to be the one taking care of me instead.”

And the darkness engulfs him again.

--

“He has been sick for a long time, from before father was born, but he’s never told anyone exactly what he suffers from. Or at least, he’s never spoken of it in front of Chongyun and myself.”

Xingqiu is here, explaining all he knows to Ningguang and Ganyu and an herbalist from the Bubu pharmacy, and Aether is awake and alert enough to hear every word. But he’d found himself too tired to open his eyes or even so much as twitch, so here he lies, waiting for the verdict from the others.

“I have known him for a few centuries now,” Ganyu says softly, and Xingqiu makes a strange noise. “But even from our earliest acquaintance, he’d always seemed exhausted. He once mentioned that he rarely sleeps, so perhaps…”

“It is certainly an unusual case,” the herbalist muses. “Weakness aside, his body is— for lack of a more appropriate word— healthy, and I can find no reason for him to have collapsed in this way.”

“Then there is nothing you can do?”

A rustling sound. “Even my Vision’s healing cannot touch it.”

“I see. Well, thank you for your time, Baizhu,” Ningguang says. “We will take it from here.”

“If you find a cure, do let me know.”

Then the door clacks shut, and the herbalist is gone.

“Lady Ganyu, what of adeptal powers? Might Aether be more receptive to that healing instead?”

Ganyu makes a hesitant sound. “…It is possible, but I am no healer, and of the adepti that remain in Liyue, there are few of us who could surpass Baizhu’s skill in that field.”

Ningguang sighs.

“Ah, Lady Ganyu,” Xingqiu says quietly. “I apologize for my presumptuousness, but… is there any chance Rex Lapis might be persuaded to help?”

A long silence.

“I— yes, perhaps, but the Rite of Descension begins in only a few hours, and I will be unable to speak with him until the entire ceremony is over.”

“I understand,” Xingqiu murmurs. “Then let us hope Aether will be able to hold on until then.”

“Yes.”

Another pause, then Ningguang speaks again.

“I am afraid I can’t push back my preparations for the Rite any longer.” Her voice sounds strained. “And Xingqiu, I am aware your family is gathering at the plaza even as we speak, so you have no time to delay either.”

“More like I need to make sure Chongyun is alright first,” Xingqiu mutters.

Heels click across the floor. “Lady Ganyu, I am hereby releasing you from your duties at the Rite of Descension. Please do all you can to save Aether instead.”

Ganyu sucks in a short breath. “Thank you, Lady Ningguang. I will do my best.”

The others leave, and though Aether can’t really see anything, he can still feel tiny pulses of cryo as Ganyu repeatedly activates her Vision to send tiny streams of power out of the house and away. He wonders what she’s doing.

Time smudges for a while after that, but it can’t be long before a flash of light sears through Aether’s eyelids and the very air seems to warp and hum around them. Ganyu’s shriek follows swiftly behind, and Aether begins wrestling with his body in earnest to open his eyes, even if it’s just for a moment—

“Oh no. No, no, no, no,” Ganyu whispers into the silence. “Aether— I’m sorry, Rex Lapis is calling me back to Jueyun Karst. My friend is— his Heart is shattered and Lord Rex thinks he might— this might be his last day.”

A bolt of pure fear shoots down Aether’s spine, chilling him from the inside out. And finally, his body moves.

“Your friend— the adeptus you told me about before?”

Ganyu’s eyes grow wide. “You’re awake?— That is, yes, but I need to—”

“Is his name Xiao?” Aether asks desperately.

“…You sound as if you know him.” Her voice has gone quiet, but Aether has no time to worry about that now.

“I do— I did, at least, but if he’s dying… please, Ganyu, let me go with you.”

Ganyu falls silent, but only for a moment. “Alright. Alright. I trust you. And we’re running out of time.”

She scoops Aether out of bed and efficiently hoists him over her back, her hands supporting his legs and his arms around her shoulders. “I apologize in advance for the transport.”

Then Aether slams his eyes shut again as she leaps into the sky with an icy blur of power, and they’re off to forbidden peaks of Jueyun Karst.

--

Xiao writhes and shivers on sweat-stained sheets. Dark, pulsing veins tangle over his skin, thicker than Aether has ever seen before. His eyes are wide and unseeing, weeping black blood, and his aura—

His soul—

—Is screaming.

Ganyu is speaking, but Aether doesn’t hear a word, already stumbling forward to collapse at Xiao’s side. How had it ended up like this? Xiao was supposed to be safe with Rex Lapis; happy without Aether to hold him back. Why is he being tortured by his own body, left alone in this shadowed room to die in an agony reserved for Hell alone?

“Xiao,” he chokes out.

Grasping at Xiao’s exposed arm and hand, mindless of his blistering skin— it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, not when he is dying too— Aether leans in and prays that Xiao will feel even a little of the comfort he is desperately trying to convey.

His hands begin to seep with blood, but he barely feels it.

“I’m sorry, Xiao, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you and I couldn’t stay away. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Please—”

Then Ganyu is overpowering Aether’s weak body to pull him back, her hands fluttering down to his bleeding ones, and— she is talking, loud and frantic, so Aether tries to focus.

“Please, Aether, stop, you’re only hurting yourself,” she pleads. “I’m sorry, I don’t know— I can see he means something special to you. But there’s no way to save him now, not even with Lord Rex’s power. The guardians are searching for a way, but…”

Aether twists, trying to escape Ganyu’s hold. If Xiao can’t be saved and Aether is soon to be gone as well, then it shouldn’t matter if he spends his last delirious moments clinging as closely to Xiao as he can. But Ganyu takes hold of his face in an unwavering grip, and Aether can do nothing but meet her tear-swollen eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “But you would have to rip out your power, your core; take his Heart as your own and live for him until his body could heal. I’m supposed to be here to save you. I don’t want to see you die too.”

And Aether understands that, he really does, but…

“My core…” he rasps, falling still so Ganyu will loosen her hold. “Then it’s a good thing mine is already gone.”

With a final, wild burst of adrenaline, Aether pushes away from Ganyu and back to Xiao’s side. He brushes his fingers over Xiao’s cheek, his horns, his hair, mindless of the streaks of blood he leaves behind.

He breathes.

“Oh, Xiao. How long has it been, now?” He eases his voice as much as he can, softer, softer. “That night you pushed me away, cut the tie between us… you were trying to protect me, right? From threats only you could see... or maybe even from yourself. If you wanted move on to your new life without reminders of the old, then... I'm sorry. But I always missed you, always. If there's even the slightest chance you wanted to see me again too— if there’s any way you could still entrust your Heart to me, I swear on— on the stars that I’ll take care of you.” He swallows back a sob. “So please, Xiao. Please...”

For an infinite moment, Xiao is still. Then his hand twitches. Lifts. Moves to wrap around Aether’s wrist, branding fresh rings of blood into Aether’s skin, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t care—

Xiao inhales, sharp and ragged, a light flashing darkly around him; and from his chest rises a fragment of stone, fractured through and dripping with corruption. It tumbles into Aether’s waiting hands.

Behind him, Ganyu gasps, but Aether pays the sound no mind as he clasps Xiao’s Heart tight and breathes a prayer. May I never betray your trust.

Then braces himself— and forces the fragment into his chest, through skin and bones, down and down until it settles in the place where his own core once brimmed with energy. There, Aether wastes no time in reaching for the bright power woven into the very fiber of his being and turning it, full force, upon Xiao’s torn Heart.

It feels like a blessing.

Aether purges the corruption, purifies it, gasps through the rebound of Xiao’s terrified relief. His skin burns with cold fever as the foreign Heart in his chest pulls upon his soul in an attempt to rebuild itself. And it does, healing and growing; shining brighter and brighter in Aether’s mind as it refracts, prism-like, into every corner of his awareness.

Once it is whole once again, glittering and flawless and beautiful, it throbs once, twice. And Aether’s body seizes with the force of Xiao’s raw power, a tempest spiraling just below the surface, filling him and returning his strength when he’d been weak for so long. A flood of Xiao’s fear and unsteady love washes over Aether, and he cannot breathe for the yearning hopelessness that accompanies it all.

“Xiao.” Aether reaches out blindly, and Xiao pulls him close the moment he leans over the bed. He has just enough time to notice that Xiao’s eyes are clear before he is struck by a sudden wave of exhaustion, like a stick to the back of the head. It doesn’t make any sense— he has more energy now than he’d had even upon his arrival in Teyvat, Xiao’s heart is thrumming away in his chest, alive, alive, alive, and he’d thought he’d gotten rather good at brushing aside weariness to avoid the realm of dreams.

But his eyelids are heavy anyway, slipping shut, he’s resting on a comfortable bed, tucked into the curve of Xiao’s body with Ganyu watching over them both, and Xiao is pressing his nose against Aether’s shoulder blade, soft and insistent.

“Warm…” he mumbles, a vibration against Aether’s skin.

Xiao’s quiet contentment trickles into his mind, their heartbeats slow as one—

And finally, finally-- Aether falls asleep.

Notes:

So...... much........... editing......

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Chapter 19: At the End of the Tunnel

Notes:

College + work is eating me alive, so in order to save some of my time and sanity, I probably won't be responding to as many comments as I could during the summer. But trust me when I say I read every comment I get to fuel my desire to procrastinate on homework and write instead!

(Also, it seems I managed to make a bunch of you think that Aether was going comatose at the end of the last chapter... Oops. I've made a tiny change to the last line that will hopefully make things a little less ominous, if you feel the urge to re-read at all!)

Xiao drifts in a hazy darkness, one that pulls at his limbs like water and narrows his awareness to a simple trickle of sensation.

He is warm from the inside out, gentle flames licking just beneath his skin. A heat that does not burn… he hadn’t thought it was possible. He feels cocooned, almost, but not trapped; not suffocating. Instead, he tries to curl deeper into the hold that whispers safe, safe, safe, chasing the ocean of stars in which his Heart is nested. There is no question of trust, and Xiao cannot stir himself to wonder why.

His pain is fading, even the hissing threat of it silenced, and a golden glow weaves softly among his thoughts, leaving them slow and floating.

Xiao has never been so untethered from his own body and mind, not even when his karmic debt drew him closer and closer to insanity— and it is that very detachment that makes him scrabble blindly for a hold on reality.

The darkness lifts.

Xiao opens his eyes.

Immediately, his attention lands upon the arm draped heavily over his waist, then darts to the soft breaths against the back of his head and the trail of warmth that presses all the way up his legs and back. Shaking, he jerks away, rolling over until his feet tangle in the sheets and he can look up at the body that had been wrapped around his—

Golden hair, shadow-sunken eyes, pale skin. Aether.

And now Xiao remembers, in jolts and flashes, the shattering of the seal and his Heart, of Ganyu’s arrival and Aether’s voice. Vivid sensations echo through him, memories of giving his Heart up to Aether’s hands and crying out as it had been repaired, fragment by fragment, overflowing with power. Aether’s warmth had chased away the bitter cold of Xiao’s fall, and then…

Abruptly, Xiao sits up, running his senses down the tether of his Heart until he finds it entangled in Aether’s aura. The two are so thoroughly fused together that it can only be— Aether must have—

Saizhen might have held Xiao’s Heart, but he would never have lowered himself so far as to accept it as his own.

Xiao staggers off the bed and away until his back hits the far wall, but even this distance does little to dull the blazing pulse of Aether’s presence, a light that whispers to him like a siren call. Already, he can feel his body growing weaker away from Aether’s touch, damaged as it still is from his long fall.

Cautiously, he creeps closer again. With the sheets on the bed now thrown back in his haste, Xiao can see the white bandages on Aether’s hands and wrist, the flush of warmth and returning health over his pale skin, and the faintly glowing veins that trail up from beneath the collar of his robe— outward signs of the storm of power he now carries in his soul.

The bandages… distantly, Xiao recalls grasping at Aether’s arm and feeling hands brush over his corrupted skin. He sinks down to the floor, rests his head on the mattress above. Of course it would be that even as Aether was attempting to save him, Xiao had only hurt him more.

For a long time, he simply rests there, watching the steady rise and fall of Aether’s chest; the faint twitching of his face in sleep. Xiao is alive where he had fully expected to die, is whole and healthy and strong, or at least, he will be soon. But though he is no longer broken, Xiao only feels lost.

Aether is here, and has bound himself to Xiao in a way that, impossibly, leaves no room for doubt as to his desire to remain by Xiao’s side. But Xiao has nothing to offer him now. In the stories Ganyu had told of her “friend,” a friend Xiao now understands is Aether, she had spoken of his skill in arts and the praise he garnered from other humans in the city. He’d had connections with important mortal leaders, considerable wealth, and a safe and comfortable life. Unlike their days in Nantianmen, Xiao has nothing to give but his service, and even that will be rendered weak by the split demands of his contract with the Master.

…The contract.

What will the Master say when he finds that Xiao’s loyalty is now divided? The commands of the person who holds Xiao’s Heart will always be stronger than that of any contract, and what use is a servant who can disobey? But then, Aether does not hold Xiao’s Heart, but rather, is something much closer to being it. What does that mean for Xiao’s obedience to him? Never before has he seen an adeptus’s Heart accepted so completely, so he does not know.

There will be no mistaking Xiao’s miraculous recovery, nor that his source of power now flows from outside his chest. Even if Xiao or Aether tried to escape, the Master knows the touch of his aura well by now, and there are few places in Liyue, or even Teyvat, that can be hidden from the god of earth and stone.

But the Master is kind, has never shown so much as a sign of Saizhen’s furious possessiveness. So perhaps… perhaps Aether will be in no danger at all?

A soft whimper stirs Xiao from his spiraling thoughts, and he looks up at Aether’s tense expression, sees fear welling up even through the layers of sleep. Even if he had been unable to see the darkening dream threads around them, Xiao has devoured enough mortal nightmares to know what Aether is suffering now.

For a fleeting moment, Xiao hesitates— but his Heart is whole, every grudge and debt wiped away, and any darkness it accumulates now will only be purified by Aether’s touch. There is nothing left to hold him back from eating this nightmare.

Carefully, Xiao leans in, running the backs of his fingers over Aether’s forehead. He could cut through the dream threads the way Saizhen had once forced him to, the way he had when Aether was trapped in the dream prism, but that method is one of destruction and violence, not healing. Is there any other way to interrupt the flow of nightmares?

Plucking softly at one of the threads, Xiao follows it down and down, losing himself in the iridescent tangle of light and shadow. Without thinking, he presses his mouth to Aether’s hairline, where the thread meets its source, and something in his Heart tugs—

Xiao combs his power through Aether’s mind, feather-light, and the nightmare easily slips out over Xiao’s tongue and down his throat, harsh and full of thorns. But for all its bitterness, this nightmare does not carry the cloying despair that he had tasted when Aether was shackled to the dream prism. It only takes one painful swallow, and then— it’s gone.

The creases of Aether’s face smooth out, and he leans into the hand Xiao had cupped around his cheek. Xiao yanks it back immediately, but is it too late— Aether’s eyes flutter open, and he looks up with a soft, half-lidded gaze.

The sudden urge to touch washes over him, to get as close to Aether as he can and— do what?

“Xiao,” Aether breathes, pushing himself awkwardly up on one elbow. “You’re alright.”

As if Xiao could be anything but when Aether has become Xiao’s Heart to save him. “Yes,” he says, his tongue sticking upon the words. “And you— you are well?”

The corners of Aether’s eyes crinkle. “I am now.”

They stare at each other for a moment. What is there to say, after such a parting and distance and abrupt reuniting as theirs?

After a short struggle, Aether manages to sit up, flipping his hands over and stiffly flexing his bandaged fingers. “Did… Ganyu do this?”

It does look like her handiwork, neat and clean as the wrappings are. “Most likely.”

“I’ll have to thank her later. Again.” Aether looks around. “Although— where is she?”

This trivial matter is not what they should be speaking of, not when Xiao must tell Aether that the two of them can no longer truly part, when the Master may yet decide to punish Aether for taking Xiao’s Heart and Xiao for giving it away, and when Xiao’s old betrayal and two thousand years of hurt hang over them like a shroud. But wondering about Ganyu is safe, is easy, when she is familiar to both Aether and Xiao, but has done no harm to either.

Xiao casts out his senses and finds her sparkling aura wandering out in the great hall. “She is here,” he says. “It seems she left us alone as we… slept.”

That Xiao had slept, had left down his guard so completely without a fight, still makes him uneasy. But at the very least, he had done so in a protected place while the Master was not nearby to require Xiao’s service. As long as he ensures it never happens again, there is no further reason to worry.

Aether hums in acknowledgement. “Then… what should we do now? I can— feel that you’re not quite recovered yet,” he says a little wonderingly, “so do we need to stay together for a while?”

Healing will be faster if Xiao remains in constant contact with Aether, he knows, but as long as his Heart is not suddenly rejected, Xiao will eventually recover regardless. The last thing he wants is for Aether to feel trapped here with him. “No. You may go now, if you like.”

Aether gives him a strange look. “…I didn’t mean that. I just feel like I need to…” He trails off, rubbing a hand over his chest, then up the glowing lines in his throat. “Never mind. Do you know how long we were asleep for? If the Rite of Descension is already over, I might need to send a message to the harbor so certain people don’t panic when they find me gone.”

Xiao hears the question, but only one part continues to echo in his mind.

The Rite of Descension. Staggering to his feet, Xiao pushes open the door and crosses to the balcony opposite, staring out into the late afternoon light. The Rite is undoubtedly over by now, but the Master will still be at the Golden House for the second part of the ceremony, and that—

Now that Xiao is still alive, still strong enough to do his duty, perhaps he can take up watch at the Golden House after all. There will be no better opportunity to prove to the Master that, despite having given his Heart to another, Xiao will still follow the contract and obey the Master’s orders.

“Xiao?” Aether calls tentatively from behind, his bare feet tapping across the wooden floor.

…If only that opportunity didn’t come at the cost of leaving Aether behind again. But if this is the price that will guarantee Aether’s safety later, then Xiao can do nothing but pay it.

“I’m sorry, Aether,” he manages. “There is a duty I must fulfill for the Master, and it is not too late for me to complete it. I will return soon.”

“What? But—” A hand lands on Xiao’s shoulder, forcing him to turn and meet Aether’s wide eyes. “Like I said earlier, you haven’t finished recovering from near death. Surely Rex Lapis would make an exception, at least for today?”

“I’m sorry,” Xiao repeats, as if his meaningless words will make things right. Should he tell Aether where he is going? But if Aether tries to follow…

“I know we’ll have to separate at some point,” Aether whispers, and of course he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know— “But Xiao, please don’t leave me right now, not when we’ve finally gotten to see each other again.”

It hurts; and he doesn’t want to leave, he’d never wanted to leave. “This is important for the Rite,” he says helplessly. “I will be back by nightfall.”

A light flickers out in Aether’s eyes, and his hand slowly drops, sliding briefly down Xiao’s arm before falling back to his side. “…Alright.”

Unable to look Aether in the face any longer, Xiao leaps from the balcony and into the sky, leaving the silent cry of his Heart far behind him.

--

When Xiao arrives at the Golden House, he finds the path and courtyard strewn with fallen human soldiers. Most are injured and all are unconscious, but none of them are dead— so Xiao doesn’t waste a moment in slipping through the entrance doors. Whatever crisis the Master feared before has clearly already taken place, and Xiao was not there to stop it.

Inside the treasury hall, he staggers when he is met with a wave of the Master’s furious power, and he stares around at many spires of geo that have erupted through the floor and resonate across the entire room. At the center of it all stands the Master, towering above the scorched and cracked pit in full dragon form.

Beneath him, a crumpled human body lies pinned by a single claw.

Quickly, Xiao steps into the shadows of the wall and watches from behind one of the Master’s constructs. Whatever has happened, whatever he had failed to stop, it is no longer Xiao’s place to interfere. He wonders if the Master has even noticed his presence at all.

A great sigh echoes around the chamber, and then the Master’s form collapses into itself in a swift flash of light, leaving him standing above his opponent in the simpler white robes of his mortal body.

A long pause. Then the man on the ground whispers in clear disbelief, the tiny sound turned to an explosion in the silence. “Xiansheng?”

“Hello, Childe.”

Ah. So this is the man who had captured the Master’s attention.

“Xiansheng, you—” Childe coughs wetly. “You’re a dragon?”

“I am Morax, Rex Lapis, Exuvia, Prime of the Adepti. And you have turned against my land and people in the name of a fool’s errand,” the Master says, quiet but unmistakable. “Why, Childe? What did you expect to gain by challenging an Archon?”

Childe does not answer the Master’s questions, and instead turns his head to spit on the floor. “…So you’re telling me— you’re telling me that all this time, you were just playing nice, befriending your enemy, and making me— deceiving me for, what, a laugh?”

“I have enjoyed every moment spent in your company, both before and after you told me of your plans, Childe. Mocking you was not my intent.”

“Hah!” Childe barks out. “Nice try, Xiansheng, but I won’t fall for that anymore. You said you wanted to know why I came here? Fine. Her Majesty the Tsaritsa sent me to capture the gnosis of a certain Archon who was wasting it by refusing to rule his nation, and, in the event that I couldn’t find him, to break the seal on one of the old gods to force him out of hiding. You may have defeated me,” he hisses, “but when the Tsaritsa finds out what you’ve done, you won’t be so lucky.”

Xiao almost scoffs at that. By nature, an Archon’s power is overwhelming, but to compare the Cryo Archon’s three hundred years of life to the Master’s thousands upon thousands— she would be destroyed like a speck of dust on the wind. Once he is fully healed, even Xiao might have the strength to match her in battle.

The Master does not rise to Childe’s empty threat, and why would he? “I cannot let you take my gnosis,” he sighs, “but neither do I want to leave you with nothing. Though you serve the Cryo Archon with great loyalty, I can see you live in fear of her power as well. Tell me, Childe, if you were to return to Snezhnaya empty-handed now, what do you expect Tsaritsa would do?”

Childe is quiet for a moment. “Punishing failure is the Tsaritsa’s right. But if you’re planning to kill me, just do it now, Morax. You know my Archon’s plan now, and you’ve toyed with me enough. Why not rub it in a little more?”

And that— Childe’s words ring hollow somewhere in Xiao’s chest, a brash echo of his own thoughts after Saizhen’s death. When he listens, the strained note in Childe’s voice grows all too clear, and Xiao feels the sudden urge to step out of the shadows and tell him— tell him something—

“I will not kill you, Childe.” The Master sounds… tired. “Instead, I would like to offer you a contract. You would serve me and assist in managing my affairs in the mortal realm on a negotiable basis, and in return, I would protect you, and, if necessary, your family, and give you all a safe home here in Liyue. And if you allowed it… I would also provide for you personally and do my best to heal your old scars.”

Childe laughs then, an unmistakably broken sound. “Don’t bring my family into this, Morax, I should never have shared that with you. And you can stop wasting your breath trying to sway me with pretty lies. If you’re not going to kill me, then let me go.”

His tone is defiant, as if expecting a fight, but the Master only lowers his spear and steps aside.

“I’m sorry, Childe.”

Limping to his feet, Childe pushes past the Master and out to the doors, apparently unaware of Xiao’s hidden watch. As he moves, a wisp of his aura rises above the pressure of the Master’s, his hair glints in the dull light, and— oh. This is the man Xiao had seen in the Guili ruins. No wonder Xiao had thought him familiar.

“Goodbye, Morax.”

The Golden House doors thunk shut with great finality, and a heavy stillness descends over the hall. Tentatively, Xiao peers out from behind the pillar.

The Master stands alone in the center of the room, his head tipped up toward the ceiling and his body suffused in shimmering light from the mountains of gold that surround him on all sides.

In that moment, the sight is achingly, unbearably lonely. Xiao may never truly understand the Master’s connection with the mortal who had just attempted to destroy him, but he does not need such understanding to see the pain of many betrayals still lingering in the air.

Silently, Xiao returns to the embrace of shadows and allows his powers to carry him blindly away.

--

Waning moonlight turns the peaks of Jueyun Karst to a dull silver as Xiao silently lands at the palace gates.

After leaving the Golden House, he had followed Childe back to Liyue Harbor, watching as the man furiously scrubbed tears and blood from his face, his muffled cries harsh in the stillness. But by the time Childe had passed over the bridge into the city, there was a smile on his face; and other than his limp and bruises and torn clothing, he had given no indication as to the battle he had just lost.

From there, Xiao had remained outside the borders of the harbor and instead tracked Childe by his unusual aura, following his progress from the city’s pharmacy to living quarters in the middle of the city to a building Xiao vaguely knew as the Snezhnayan base of operations in Liyue. Childe had stopped there until evening, then returned to his living quarters to stay.

Satisfied that Childe did not intend to immediately leave Liyue, hurt himself, or attempt some form of revenge on the Master, Xiao had left— and now he must finish paying the price for his earlier choice.

His own realization has come too slow, too late: until now, Xiao has made decisions by expecting that Aether would be taken from him at any moment. But now that Xiao is as safe as he could ever hope to be, there is no pushing Aether away to protect him—

There is only pushing him away.

Fearfully, Xiao steps into the entrance hall and is met by Ganyu, her posture stiff and her eyes cold.

“You left him,” she says without a greeting.

Xiao bends his head and keeps silent. He has no defense.

“He told me about your history together— only a little, but I understand enough. The way you two met, and everything that happened after… Xiao, I care for you, and I know that in your position, this is far from easy, but—” her eyes are shining, suddenly “—Aether is my friend as well, and what you did— why would you leave your Heart behind like that?”

“I wanted to keep him safe,” Xiao says emptily.

“I cannot know what you endured in the past, but Aether is more than safe now.” Ganyu’s stare pierces through him. “What he needs is you.” Then her eyes soften slightly, and she turns away. “I showed him to Lord Rex’s study. Go find him.”

So Xiao does.

Aether is standing in the back of the study when Xiao looks in, his head tilted up to study a high bookshelf and his long hair now tied back by one of Ganyu’s clips. He turns at Xiao’s approach with a guarded expression— and Xiao forces himself across the room, one step at a time, until he can fold himself at Aether’s feet. This position, at least, is familiar.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers miserably. “I’m sorry.”

After a moment, Aether sighs, thumping to the ground before Xiao with his legs crossed. “Hey, Xiao? Will you tell me where you went?”

Xiao answers without hesitation, now. “I was at the Golden House. Before the Rite of Descension, the Master had ordered me to keep watch there to stop an expected interference in the ceremony. But my Heart shattered before I could.” He swallows. “Then you came.”

“The Golden House…” Aether echoes. “And was there an interference?”

“When I arrived, it was already over. The Master’s friend had attempted to attack him; but he is mortal, and the Master is… the oldest god left walking Teyvat.”

“That does seem like an unfair match,” Aether says quietly. “His friend, huh?”

“I do not know”— Brilliant and perfect and lonely, the Master standing on ruins and gold; Childe’s bitter, fleeting tears and smiling mask— “But they were hurt.”

“I see.”

For a while, all is still, and Xiao keeps his forehead pressed to the floor until—

A soft touch lands in his hair, heat searing across his scalp as bandaged fingers comb through, and Xiao is forced to stifle a gasp. It feels so good.

It feels like forgiveness.

“Ganyu told me that I had to purify your Heart in an unusual way to save you.” Aether’s hand does not pause in stroking through Xiao’s tangled hair, and Xiao struggles to focus on his words. “What does that mean?

Oh.

“I was falling,” Xiao says. “Most life-born adepti will only temporarily give their Hearts to another to be purified, but I have been falling for so long— I was so damaged by the end that even the Master could not save me. What you did”— Xiao searches for the best explanation— “You replaced your powers with mine, became my Heart long enough for me to survive while it broke entirely, then used your life force to begin repairing it, and, in turn, my body.”

He breathes in. Out. “I have never met another adeptus with a merged Heart— because the act cannot be undone. You are my Heart and powers now. If one of us dies, so will the other. I— I’m sorry. I never meant to trap you this way.”

“…No,” Aether says after a moment. “I knew what I was getting into. Ganyu warned me well enough for that.” He prods at Xiao’s forehead until he lifts his face. “It’s been a while, and I don’t have the flower, but my promise still stands— no regrets, remember?”

Xiao stares at him. Then, entirely without warning, finds himself speaking through a tight throat and stinging eyes. “Foolish human.”

“Mmhm,” Aether says. “I’ve missed you, Xiao.”

Slowly, Xiao pushes himself up on his arms, unable to tear his eyes from Aether’s tired, gentle face. He reaches out, unthinking, as if to touch the line of Aether’s jaw, or the glow in his throat, or perhaps the loose hair that swoops over his ear— even he does not know. The only thing that matters is that Xiao can touch, now that his skin doesn’t burn and his seeping curse is wiped away.

Aether’s hand, too, lifts, coming to rest on Xiao’s arm, warm even through bandages and the layers of his robe. Xiao’s body begins to relax, muscle by muscle. He is safe, after all, his strength returning in the presence of his Heart, basking in undeserved kindness and Aether’s hesitant touch.

Then a knock sounds at the study door and they are both scrambling up in a moment, Aether settling a wary stance and Xiao bracing for a fight. He grits his teeth as the loss of Aether’s touch pours over him like icy water and forgotten exhaustion settles back into his bones.

In steps the Master, still in full ceremonial regalia and shining with power from a thousand new mortal offerings. It is almost enough to blind Xiao to the gray thread of mourning that weaves across his aura.

“Master,” he says, trembling. Stepping in front of Aether just enough to shield him from the Master’s attention, Xiao forces himself not to call his spear. The Master might be angry, but he won’t hurt them. He won’t.

The Master’s eyes are wide, undoubtedly stunned by Xiao’s impossible recovery and the way his Heart now stands beside him. But then Aether sucks in a sharp breath and steps up to Xiao’s side.

“I knew it.” Aether says, voice shaking, but clear. “Though— I never would’ve expected us to meet like this, Lord Baoshen.”

Almost unconsciously, it seems, Master’s tail and branching horns shrink back into his body, leaving him in his mortal form.

“Aether?”

Notes:

<3

Chapter 20: Second Child, Restless Child

Notes:

Me, slamming plot point after plot point into this chapter: Oh yeah, it's all coming together

They know each other. Somehow, Aether and the Master have already met, and all Xiao can do is stand there as the world blurs around him and he waits for punishment— or displeasure, or anything— that does not come.

“You’re alive,” the Master says, still staring. “You’re… immortal.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” A strange sort of guilt twines through Aether’s voice. “I never really meant to deceive you… though I probably wouldn’t have told you, either.”

Aether’s fingers brush over the back of Xiao’s hand, searing, but it does little to ground him. He blinks, and then—

“… a traveler.” The Master’s words echo distantly. “But when we met in the teahouse, your aura was no more noticeable than that of any other mortal.”

Aether breathes; in, out. “That… I imagine that was because at the time we met, I was so close to dying that there wasn’t much left to sense from me at all.”

Aether dying— but they had known that even before Xiao had torn out his dreams and abandoned him to his empty core in Liyue Harbor. What had Xiao been expecting? It is just one more way in which he has failed Aether entirely.

“Lady Ganyu brought me along after she received your summons,” Aether is saying. “And I was desperate. I asked Xiao to trust me with his Heart, and— he did.”

“Accepting his Heart as your own…” Suddenly the Master is close, too close, and Xiao stares up into his piercing gaze. “Xiao, you gave Aether your Heart?”

“Yes,” he whispers. “Aether is— Aether is everything, so please—"

“Everything…” the Master echoes. “Then I’m glad.”

He leans in, presses a kiss to the mark on Xiao’s forehead without touching anywhere else, and Xiao scrambles to understand—

An overwhelming flood of relief, of an Archon’s great joy fills the room, and Xiao almost collapses under the weight of it. It is impossible, and yet— the Master is unmistakably pleased, and that means— does that mean Aether is safe?

“Miracles are rare for gods as old as I,” the Master says softly. “But to have both of you alive and well and safe in each other is one of them. Thank you. It gives me hope for… other things as well.”

The Master’s brilliant aura withdraws, but the taste of his happiness lingers.

“There are some matters that will need to be reconsidered now that the two of you have bound yourselves as one. But for now, they can wait.” The Master smiles. “Xiao, I am releasing you from your duties for a few days, so please, take that time to rest and heal and realign with your Heart. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. There is little I cannot provide.”

On his way out, he pauses, a strange expression flickering across his face. “…And take care of each other. A second chance such as this is far too precious to waste.”

It’s not quite a command, but Xiao shivers nonetheless, feels Aether doing the same at his side. Whatever it takes— Aether has extended a hand of forgiveness, and Xiao will never let go of it again.

--

The dim lights of the palace halls blur in Xiao’s eyes as he leads the way back to his room.

For a thousand years, he has had no greater fear than the Master learning of Aether’s connection to Xiao and choosing to punish them both— and yet the Master had simply swept that fear aside like so many gnats in a storm. Now Xiao is drowning in the sea of divine affection that still stirs around them, undeniable proof of the Master’s care.

It feels almost as if he is tracing the razor’s edge between dream and reality, tethered only by the healing throb of his Heart and the warmth of Aether close at his side.

Xiao forces himself not to lean in, though Aether’s shoulder is only a breath away from his as they walk. After all, he may have been forgiven for his last betrayal, but an eon of distance and buried pain still tangles like thorns between them, and Xiao has no right to carelessly seek Aether’s touch. But even if he is never allowed close again, it does not matter. Aether has freely given up his life to save Xiao’s and cradled his Heart in gentle hands, and already it is far beyond anything Xiao had ever dared to hope.

Inside his room, Xiao finds traces of the Master’s power lingering over clean sheets and the suddenly dust-free surfaces of his unused furniture, and— no master should be cleaning for their servants in this way, but it is another sign of the Master’s acceptance. Another reminder for when fear begins to creep into Xiao’s thoughts.

“Xiao?” Aether starts, and Xiao’s attention snaps to him. “Would you mind if I…”

As he speaks, Aether pulls open the door to Xiao’s empty closet, and his words trail off. “…Ah. Never mind. It’s alright.”

Empty closet, empty drawers; bare desk, bare walls. Xiao already knows he has nothing to offer, not even this room, but Aether clearly needs something, and if there is any way Xiao can provide it…

“No. Tell me what you want,” Xiao insists, and Aether’s gaze flickers up to his.

“It’s really nothing, I can handle it in the morning.”

“Please,” Xiao says, and the desperation in his voice surprises him. “Tell me.”

Aether’s eyes are wide as he searches Xiao’s face, and whatever he finds there sends a dark thread of guilt across his aura.

“…I’m sorry, I didn’t think—” He swallows. “I was hoping for a change of clothes before we go to sleep. It’s been a few days since I was able to put on something new.”

Ice shoots down Xiao’s spine, first at the realization that Aether had been too weak even to change his own clothes, then at the reminder of human needs that Xiao had not given so much as a thought to. Clothing and food and drink, a place for Aether to clean himself and weapon for protection— what else has Xiao forgotten in their centuries apart?

“Ganyu or the Master may allow us to use some of their clothing. Do you need to eat?” How long has it been since Aether returned to Xiao’s side? “I can bring water as well. There is a bath in the room behind this one, though I have never made use of it—”

“Xiao!”

Aether’s hands clasp around his, and Xiao gasps as a muted burst of heat shoots all the way up to his shoulders.

“I’m okay, Xiao. I promise.” Slowly, his hands release, leaving Xiao’s skin cold in their wake. “If you bring me water, I’ll drink it, but I’m used to going without food, and all I really wanted was to… um.” His gaze suddenly drops to the side. “Not make you get into bed with me while I was so dirty.”

Dirty? But Aether’s clothes and skin are clean, and his scent is only that of herbs and sun-warm earth. Far more concerning are the words that hint at careless starvation, a pattern that seems to have changed little since Aether’s time in Nantianmen.

“Wait here. I’ll be back soon,” Xiao says. And it must be soon. He can never let Aether believe he is being abandoned ever again.

Finding water is easy, when the kitchens contain an ever-flowing spring of it, born from Cloud Retainer’s power. Xiao fills a cup, then continues with far more hesitation to the open entrance of the Master’s rooms.

”If you need anything…”

“My lord?” Xiao calls softly, and with a great rustling, the Master’s snout lifts from the coil of his body.

“Xiao.” The Master is up in a moment, snaking his way through the room until the heat of his breath brushes through Xiao’s hair. “How can I help you?”

“My lord, may I— that is, Aether hoped to change his clothes, and I have nothing to offer him, so—"

Before Xiao can even finish his stuttering thought, the Master is already turning, his tail hooking gently around Xiao’s torso to pull him further inside. “Please, take whatever you like.”

They pass through another large, circular doorway, and for the first time, Xiao lays eyes upon the Master’s collection of offerings. The hall seems to stretch on endlessly, the walls lined with chests and closets and crates, and the floor piled high with treasure. Wealth has little meaning to Xiao, but even he must stop to wonder at the sheer accumulation of it.

“I apologize,” the Master rumbles. “It has been some time since I’ve had the need to organize it all.”

Delicately, he tugs the nearest closet open with a giant claw, and several heaps of fabric promptly tumble out onto the floor. The Master sighs. “Well. If you find anything you like, it is yours to keep.” Then he shuffles back out of the room and piles himself comfortably just beyond the doorway, only his snout poking in to watch.

Xiao briefly searches through the closet the Master had opened, but all the clothing inside seems far too large for Aether. He moves on.

Many of the fabrics the Master has been offered are regal and heavy, stitched with jewels or trimmed in silver, or else vibrant and rough with embroidery. None will suit Aether’s small, lithe body or practical spirit, but time is quickly draining away and Xiao cannot delay much longer in choosing.

His eyes catch upon a drape of gold and rich brown, and he runs his fingers over it to find smooth, light silk. Tugging it from the stand on which it is piled, Xiao shakes it out to inspect the fluttering layers and subtle patterns in the weave.

The gold shines the same as Aether’s hair. This will do.

“Is that all you need?” The Master asks as Xiao tentatively carries it out.

Once, Xiao would have said it was too much— but unlike the adepti, who can maintain their clothing at will, Aether will soon require more than this one robe. After this, Xiao will have to find an alternative method of providing for Aether. He cannot push the Master’s kindness any further.

“Thank you for your generosity, my lord,” Xiao murmurs. “This is enough.”

The Master dips his great head. “Rest well, Xiao.”

Cup in one hand and robes in the other, Xiao gives the Master a final bow before hurrying out. Aether is waiting.

--

Aether tips his head back to empty the water glass, and Xiao stands frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from the line of Aether’s throat and the untied waves of hair that tumble down around his shoulders.

“Thank you, Xiao,” Aether says as he lowers the glass with a satisfied breath. His lips shine with moisture.

Xiao nods mutely. Then Aether sets the cup aside and, without hesitation, begins unhooking the clasps of his robe, shedding both outer and inner layers and folding them neatly on the bed. His sash is heaped beside that, and he steps out of the loose folds of his pants to reveal his legs, and—

Xiao forces himself to breathe. Aether’s ribs and hips and shoulders are prominent beneath his pale skin, features that speak of a wavering between starvation and health. Some of the hard lines of muscle Xiao had seen when they’d first met in the valley are gone, lost to time or illness, Xiao does not know. He wants to touch the soft dips and ridges of Aether’s body, to drag his fingers up the curve of legs to waist to chest to neck. Aether’s fingers, deft even through gauze wrappings, reach for the clothing Xiao has brought. A liquid glow pulses deep in his chest, spreading veins of light across his torso and up his throat, signs of a power too great to conceal. Xiao’s power. It is absurd, when he has seen such bared skin with other adepti before and thought nothing of it. But now, Xiao can feel the call of his Heart, and he wants… wants…

“Are you just going to watch me?” Aether asks with a faint smile as he slides his arms into the new robe. “There’s not much to see anymore.”

“You are— lovely,” Xiao breathes before he can stop himself, the words foreign on his tongue, but still true— And because he has not blinked, cannot blink, he does not miss a moment of the flush that rises in Aether’s face and neck and chest.

Aether has paused, eyes wide and lips parted, and now he drops his gaze, his shoulders hunching up toward his ears. “O-oh."

Suddenly, Aether is scrambling to put on the rest of his clothing, and Xiao’s heart sinks— his careless words were too much after all. Even so, he watches, attentive, as Aether finishes dressing, his body quickly covered by layers of silk and gold. Xiao’s judgement had been correct. These robes make Aether shine.

“Are you not going to change?” Aether asks, his gaze still angled away from Xiao’s.

“No. I must remain ready for battle.” If he does not lie down and sleep, there is no need to even remove the plates of his armor; but more than that, he refuses to take advantage of Aether’s courtesy just for another chance to rest beside him.

A moment of silence.

“Why?”

The question sounds light, but the shadow over Aether’s eyes is not.

“Rex Lapis said you could rest from your duties, right?”

“Yes— but,” Suddenly unsure, Xiao stumbles over the answer. “I am a yaksha.”

Aether studies him. “What does that mean? Even if you don’t need sleep, I’ve seen that you can. And you’re safe here, unlike with the God of Dreams.” He tenses, suddenly, and his voice lowers. “…Right?”

“I am safe,” Xiao hurries to assure him. “Rex Lapis is— a good master.”

Aether’s mouth twitches strangely, but he nods. “Then why…”

“Because…” Xiao stops to consider, truly consider it. “Because I am one of the last warrior adepi left defending Liyue, and if the Master ever requires my service, I cannot be delayed by sleep. Those duties are part of our contract, and I will not defy what is carved in stone.”

Aether studies him quietly. “I see.” Sliding beneath the bedsheets, he pats the empty space beside himself. “Then will you at least stay here with me?”

If Aether is asking— “Very well.”

Xiao perches on the edge of the mattress, basking in the nearness of his Heart and aligning his breaths with the pulse of Aether’s aura. Soon, the threads of disjointed dreams begin to swirl through the air, evidence of Aether’s restless sleep. It is not the easy rest that Aether needs, but as long as there are no nightmares… perhaps it is enough.

--

The morning is quiet.

Aether wakes slow, his lashes fluttering and parting to reveal eyes of deep gold, and when his gaze lifts, something yanks tight in Xiao’s chest.

“Good morning,” Aether says, voice rasping over Xiao’s ears, and it is all Xiao can do to echo the words back.

They walk to the kitchens side by side, Heart and body in perfect rhythm, and like this, Xiao feels strong. It is as if Aether has replaced the corruption of his Heart with an ocean— calm and clear on the surface with a surging tide ready to rise just beneath. Saizhen had said eating dreams would give Xiao power to match the gods, and it had. But though that dark power has now been wiped away, Xiao feels only… steadied, not weakened, sure of every thought and footfall in a way he has not been since his long fall began.

Had Aether somehow done more than merely repair Xiao’s Heart when he had merged with it?

Inside the kitchen, the air is heavy with steam and spices, and though Xiao’s stomach turns as always at the scent, he no longer feels the need to escape. Aether is here, after all, still smelling of sunshine and life; and for the first time, Xiao has tasted the simple fear of his nightmare without being forced to tear out his lifeforce with it. A milder memory to cover the bitterness of the old.

Ganyu stands before the stove across the room, stirring something in a pot, and she jerks around at Xiao and Aether’s entrance.

“You’re awake!” She gasps, darting over to them in a moment. “Are the two of you… alright, now?”

“I think we are,” Aether says softly. His gaze turns upon Xiao, searching, but Xiao can only stare back blankly, unsure of what Aether hopes to find. He knows he’s made a mistake when Aether’s face falls.

“…Or we’re well enough, at least. I’m sorry to bother you again, Ganyu, but have Lady Ningguang or Xingqiu responded to the message you sent for me last night...?”

“Oh! Yes, I’d almost forgotten.” Ganyu hastily pats through her robe until she pulls out two squares of paper. “One from each of them. Xingqiu was nearly in a panic when I finally reached him.” She passes the letters to Aether with a smile. “You have good friends, Aether.”

“I am lucky to have you all.”

Patches of red bloom high on Ganyu’s cheeks, and she quickly beckons them over to the stove. “Are you hungry, by any chance? If I remember correctly, it’s been a few days since you last had something to eat.”

“I could eat. Thank you, Ganyu.”

A few days since Aether has eaten— is that counting the time he had spent with Xiao or not?

“Aether,” Xiao says, his throat tight. “You should have told me.”

Aether looks over, an apologetic tilt to his head. “I’m sorry, Xiao. But now that I have your power to sustain me, I can go a lot longer without food, and you were already getting me new clothes…”

“You still need to eat.” Xiao wants to grab Aether by the shoulders and shake him, to make him see— But he cannot touch, not until Aether allows it. “In Nantianmen and the dream prism, you starved, and I—" If Aether suffers again because of him—

“I’m sorry,” Aether says, softer now. “I won’t end up that way again, I promise.”

Xiao nods silently, trapped by words he does not have and feelings he cannot express. If only he had the Master’s great eloquence…

“Well, I have more than enough food here,” Ganyu says after a moment. “Though it’s only soup and rice. Is that alright, Aether?”

“I would probably eat anything you gave me,” Aether laughs. “Is there anything around here I could use to make tea?”

Ganyu leads him to a shelf stacked high with fine pottery and what must be jars of tea, and— yes, she had said her “friend” worked in a teahouse, and the Master had mentioned the same. So this must be what Aether had devoted himself to in their time apart.

Quietly, Xiao takes a seat at the small corner table, watching as Ganyu adds some kind of spice to her soup and Aether crumbles tea leaves in swift, easy motions. Because he does not eat, Xiao has little cooking ability beyond roasting meat and peeling fruits, so the skills Aether and Ganyu display now are far beyond him. But for Aether’s sake, he will have to learn.

Ganyu brings two bowls to the table, one each for her and Aether, as expected. But when Aether joins them shortly after, he has three cups, and he pauses in setting down the last one.

“Xiao, aren’t you going to eat too?”

Xiao glances up at him uneasily, feeling Ganyu’s stare burning into his side. “I… cannot.”

“Why not?” Aether asks, slowly, cautiously; and though Xiao does not want to tell him, he deserves to know—

“Saizhen had— I have eaten nothing but dreams for so many years that I can no longer consume mortal foods.”

“Saizhen,” Aether echoes, and something in his aura trembles. “I see. Then— if you can’t drink the tea either, I’ll get rid of it, I’m sorry—"

“No,” Xiao says, his mouth moving ahead of his thoughts. “No. It’s warm.” He wraps his hands around the glazed ceramic, and somehow even this has managed to take on Aether’s scent.

When he looks up, Ganyu’s eyes are wide, lost somewhere between surprise and awe; but Aether’s expression is strange, enough that Xiao cannot read it.

“Okay. That’s— good.”

While they eat, Ganyu and Aether question each other by turns. Ganyu asks of Aether’s past, of his time with Xiao and his years in Liyue Harbor, while Aether searches for information about adepti, and their powers and Hearts. For the most part, Xiao only listens, allowing their soft voices to wash over him and feeling his weary body begin to relax.

They have just settled upon the topic of adepti and Visions when something bright sparks at the edges of Xiao’s awareness, and then a trumpet-call of a yell rings through the palace.

“MOOORAAAAX!”

All three of them leap to their feet, and the kitchen door crashes open a moment later.

“Morax, are you in— oh!”

A sweeping cape, glowing braids, and large blue eyes that stir with hidden winds.

“Lord Barbatos,” Xiao and Ganyu murmur in unison.

“Well hello there!” Barbatos swings into the room with a beaming smile. “Call me Venti, please; I’m not much of an Archon nowadays. It’s good to see you again, Ganyu— and this must be Xiao, right? And your third is…?”

“I’m Aether. It’s nice to meet you?” Aether offers slowly.

“Aether… hmm.” Barbatos— or Venti?— puts a hand to his chin and squints. “Nope, I can’t recall the old blockhead ever mentioning that name. Are you new around here? You look human.”

“I… am, sort of. And I’m here because I had to save Xiao.”

Barbatos squints even further as he leans in, then his eyes shoot wide. “Oh! Ohhh. You took on an adeptus’s Heart?” A smile begins to creep across his face. “So that means—”

The kitchen door slams open again, louder this time, and the Master’s shadow falls across the room.

“Bard.”

“Morax! There you are. I can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long and I’ve only just gotten to properly meet the adeptus you fret about so often—”

“Hurt Xiao or Aether for even a moment, and I will make sure you regret it,” the Master growls.

The air falls still as Barbatos pauses. Then he puts a hand to his chest. “I’m offended, Morax. I may enjoy a prank or two, but you know I would never touch one of your precious treasures, you dragon. Besides, my entire element is about freedom, and what kind of Archon would I be if—”

The Master sighs. “Why are you here, Venti?”

“Cutting me off again.” Barbatos pouts. “Fine. I’m here because our dear friend Tsaritsa sent one of her soldiers to try and take my gnosis. Maybe you know something about that?”

With a slow nod, the Master settles into one of the nearby chairs, a strange contrast of simple wood and divine grandeur. “I do. Another of her Harbingers attempted to challenge me for my gnosis after the Rite of Descension.”

“So they struck around the same time, then,” Barbatos says, thoughtful. “You sent your attacker packing though, right?”

“I defeated him, of course. But for now, he remains in the harbor.”

“You let him stay? Why?” Barbatos stares.

“Because… I fear for him, should he return to the Cryo Archon. And… other, more personal reasons.”

Barbatos’s face grows solemn. “Morax, you—”

“For now, it is unimportant,” the Master interrupts. “I had thought that perhaps Childe was working alone, but if they have coordinated an attempt for your gnosis as well, then the Cryo Archon is more dangerous than I had anticipated.”

“…True. What do you plan to do, then? I sent Signora back to her homeland on anemo express, so Tsaritsa will already know of her Harbingers’ failure.”

“Hm. I do not know whether Childe has attempted to contact Tsaritsa since his defeat, but perhaps this Signora’s return alone will serve as warning enough for her.”

“So, wait and see?”

“For now,” the Master agrees. “And I would prefer that Xiao and Aether’s time together not be disturbed by the possibility of war.”

Barbatos claps his hands together, his whole demeanor shifting in a moment. “Yes, tell me about them! How did you find someone to save Xiao?”

“I did not,” the Master says, his gaze shifting over to Aether. “Rather, it seems he came on his own. Even I do not know the full story.”

“Eh, is that so?” Barbatos leans in. “Aether, how did you meet Xiao?”

Aether does not answer right away, instead giving a quick tilt of his head. “Why do you want to know?”

Xiao tenses. Aether may have the Master’s protection now, but to defy an Archon is still…

“Hmm… Because I am a bard and a poet, one who lives among the people to learn and tell their stories. And”— Barbatos’s lips tug up— “because in all my years, this is the first time I’ve seen the kind of bond you two share, and I want to know how it happened!”

“Oh? Is it really so rare?”

“Even I have only seen one other merged pair before, and they were both adepti.” The Master says. “Your connection with Xiao is unique indeed.”

Aether hums quietly, his gaze flickering to Xiao, then away again. “I guess we both have a lot to learn, then.”

“If you like, I would be happy to share what little knowledge I have of merged bonds,” the Master inclines his head as he speaks. “In return, may we hear your story?”

“I’d accept that offer,” Aether laughs, “and of course; though it’s not exactly an exciting one. Let’s see… I woke up alone in a cave one day, wandered through the ruins of a valley, stayed there until I realized I was being watched in the night, eventually caught Xiao collapsed outside of my camp, and took care of him whenever he could get away long enough to visit. We’ve been friends ever since.”

Aether’s smile fades, then. “Of course, the Archon War was still raging, and Xiao was caught up in that most of the time. I made offerings to him when I could, and we tried to protect each other. But in the end, the God of Dreams discovered us, and he… wasn’t pleased.” A shudder visibly rattles through Aether’s body. “…After I woke up at the end of the war, Xiao took me to Liyue Harbor, and it’s only now that we’ve managed to see each other again.” He pauses. “And even that was only happenstance, really.”

So many years of pain and regret, of Saizhen’s cruelty and Xiao’s betrayal reduced to a simple tale, and Xiao listens with awe. Perhaps this explanation will be unassuming enough to keep the others’ questions at bay?

Xiao looks from Barbatos’s open concern to Ganyu’s slowly-rising horror to the Master’s cold rage, and it is clear enough that they are not so deceived.

“You were both captured by a tyrant god? And right after the war was over— two thousand years— Barbatos spins around. “Morax, did you know this? How have you managed to pick up two immortals who—”

“I did not know, not fully,” the Master rumbles, his voice edging on that of a dragon’s. “But I am beginning to understand.” Abruptly, he stands. “Xiao—”

His voice is thunderous, commanding, and Xiao cannot stop his body from flinching back. Even when he reminds himself of the Master’s promise… it is hard to shake the old hurt carved deep into his skin.

The Master instantly falls still, and the whole room seems to hold its breath. “Apologies for interrupting your meal. Venti and I have some other matters to discuss now, so we will be taking our leave.”

And, scooping Barbatos up by the collar of his shirt, the Master carries him out and allows the door to clatter shut behind them.

Softly, Aether’s fingers link with Xiao’s in a pulse of soothing warmth, and Xiao is careful not to grip too hard for fear of damaging his skin further. “…You’d think among immortals as old as the five of us… I guess suffering is suffering no matter how many years pass.” He sighs. “Are you alright, Xiao?”

With Aether’s hand in his, everything is better. “Yes.”

Pushing his empty bowl aside, Aether stands. “Thank you for the food, Ganyu. Um… if I write a response to Lady Ningguang and Xingqiu, would you be willing to deliver it again? Or— I can wait until Xiao is recovered a little more and—"

“No, I’ll take care of it,” Ganyu says. She opens her mouth, hesitates— closes it again. “It’s no trouble, really.”

“Then… thank you.”

Still reeling from Barbatos’s appearance and the Master’s abrupt departure, Xiao stumbles out the kitchen after Aether, following him back to their room. Around him swirls Aether’s unsettled aura, too clouded and dark for Xiao to properly interpret, a storm that grows with every step Aether takes.

Is it from the recounting of their past, the knowledge of their abnormal bond, or something else entirely? Xiao would do anything to bring Aether comfort again, but rift between what Aether needs and what Xiao can give… he watches Aether’s stiff back, the distance between them, the way Aether’s hand drags him along.

Aether may have forgiven Xiao, but tension still stretches between them like an adeptal barrier— transparent, but impossible to break through; and somehow stronger than even the threat of Saizhen that had kept them apart in the valley.

But Xiao has promised never to let Aether go again; so even if Aether would surely prefer to be alone now, even if he would recover faster without Xiao nearby to spark old memories— Xiao will keep holding on.

What else can he do?

Notes:

Check out my tumblr here!

Let me know what you think! I'm always looking to fix plot holes and make improvements.
<3

Chapter 21: Ember

Notes:

so... this is where we start earning part of our M rating i guess

TW: Description of Aether's injury

The moment the door to Xiao’s room closes behind them, Aether releases Xiao’s hand and spins around. “I’m sorry, Xiao. I wasn’t sure— was it alright that I told Venti and Rex Lapis about our past? I didn’t even think to ask you, and they reacted so strongly—”

“No,” Xiao hurries to say. “It does not matter. I have occasionally spoken to the Master of my past with Saizhen, and he has always hated hearing such things. More than that, I… trust the Master not to hurt you. Hurt either of us.”

Aether studies him for a moment, the panic fading from his expression. “I’m not sure Rex Lapis hated hearing about it so much as…”

Trailing off, he lowers himself into a seat beside Xiao’s bare desk and brings out the letters Ganyu had passed to him. “Would you mind waiting while I read and respond to these?” His fingers twist at the corner of one of the papers. “It should only take a minute.”

Xiao nods and settles into a corner chair. It is a carefully calculated distance— close enough feel Aether’s aura, but far enough to avoid intruding on Aether’s space, a gap of only a few steps that seems to stretch as wide the Chasm. Xiao hates it, though he does not know why.

A soft noise from Aether interrupts Xiao’s thoughts.

“It can’t be…”

“What is it?” Xiao asks sharply.

“Nothing, just— Xingqiu, one of my friends from Liyue Harbor, says his friend has been missing for a full day.”

Only a day? “Is there a reason for concern?”

Aether hesitates. “…Maybe. It’s not as if either of us saw Chongyun every day, but between what happened the night before the Rite of Descension and what I know Chongyun endures at home— I agree with Xingqiu’s worry.”

A frown twists Aether’s whole face as he scans the paper again. “I suppose I’ll just have to wait for another reply and see.”

Xiao has never allowed himself to grow familiar with a mortal, let alone those Aether is speaking of, but Aether’s simmering fear leaves him on edge anyway. He watches as Aether scratches out two new messages in hasty, slanted characters and ties them together. “I’ll find Ganyu later. For now…” Aether turns to Xiao with an awkward smile. “Is there somewhere I could take a bath?”

Tension loosening, Xiao leads Aether over to the door at the far end of his room. This, at least, is something he can provide for Aether right away.

Aether’s steps echo over stone as he crosses to the bath; a great, marbled pit of a thing that Xiao has never touched. Steam curls from clouded water to warm the air around them.

“Whoa,” Aether murmurs as he dips his toes into the pool. “How… isn’t this palace set into the side of a mountain? Where is the water coming from?”

The simplest answer is that whole mountain is maintained by the Master’s power, and Xiao tells him so.

“Well, I’m not complaining. Thank you, Xiao.”

And with that, Aether sheds his clothes— again, Xiao finds himself unable to look away— lifts a towel from a nearby shelf, and carefully sinks into the bath. He hisses as the water rises up past his pale stomach and chest, and Xiao nearly leaps forward, but— no, Aether is not injured, only reacting to the heat. At last, Aether submerges himself up to the neck, his bandaged hands carefully lifted to rest on the edge of the pool, and Xiao’s captive attention is freed to turn elsewhere.

“Will you join me? Or are yaksha not allowed to take baths either?”

Xiao meets Aether’s open, searching gaze and shifts uncertainly. There is no true reason for him to refuse, but to take his armor off would mean…

“They are not,” he says, “but my body is not… pleasant to see.” Unlike yours, he almost adds.

Aether frowns. “Why do you think that?”

Pale gashes, red burns, dark lines of poison— by Saizhen’s wishes, Xiao’s face may be untouched, but the rest of his body is eternally marred by memories of pain. “I have scars.”

Slowly, Aether’s head tilts. “Is that all? You know I’ve seen scars before— I’ve seen your scars before, in Nantianmen.”

And that is true, but… at least in the valley, they were both broken; made one with the damage war had inflicted upon the world. Now, all others have healed where Xiao has not, and if Aether sees that, if his eyes were to grow dark as he draws away—

Xiao’s hands are clenched tight at the front of his robe, he realizes, as if to ensure not even the air could reveal him.

“Hey,” Aether says, his brows creasing together as he half-rises from the water. “I won’t run. To me, scars are just— just proof that you’re alive. And even if they weren’t, I care about you more than whatever marks you seem to think I’ll hate.”

Aether is so kind, and Xiao almost, almost gives in, almost pierces through the barrier between them, ready to fall and trust that Aether will catch him— but no, Aether has only come here to save Xiao from death, not hold all of Xiao in his hands. That Aether had accepted Xiao’s Heart to do so is merely unfortunate necessity. The distance Aether seems to desire; the sparse, fleeting touches, his refusal to rely on Xiao more than he absolutely must— Aether has made it clear that he will not restore the connection he and Xiao had once shared so long ago. And Xiao knows his place.

He bows low. “I apologize, Aether. There is no need to force yourself to include me when you have no desire to. I will do my best to keep my distance until I have finished healing.”

“Force myself to— Xiao, wait,” Aether fumbles. “Tell me— what do you think is happening here? What am I saying wrong? Because that’s not what I meant at all.”

Slowly, Xiao lifts his head. “…I abandoned you to a slow death in Liyue Harbor even after you tried to stay with. I hurt you, but you were still generous enough to save my life despite my betrayal.”

Aether’s lips part as he stares. “No… no, I thought it was you who no longer wanted me. What you said that day we parted— and how the God of Dreams used me to hurt you— the way I was only another thing for you to take care of when you were already struggling to survive—”

Thoughts spiraling, Xiao reaches for the ties of his sash, for the precious hollow hidden in its folds. Everything is wrong, wrong, wrong; Aether was never supposed to carry the guilt of Xiao’s actions, and the distance between them was meant to respect his wishes, not imply that Xiao had never wanted him at all.

“I—” Xiao rasps out. “I always wanted you. Always. That you were still alive— it was only reason I had not chosen to return to the earth long before now.”

At last, the sash falls, and Xiao brings out the flute and necklace to hold in trembling hands. “Saizhen destroyed everything else,” he whispers. “These were the only memories of you I had left.”

Aether rises from the water as if in a trance, his aura blazing with a thousand nameless emotions. “You kept them. After all this time, they’re still—”

Silent tears spill over then, sliding down his chin to join the rest of the water dripping from his body. “I’m sorry, the qingxin you left me— I couldn’t stop it from crumbling.”

That Aether, too, had kept his last memory of Xiao, even though it was surely nothing but a reminder of betrayal—

“Then,” Xiao manages, breaths shaking as he sets the old offerings aside. “Then, does that mean— may I touch you?” His whole body is screaming for it, following the call of his Heart.

“Yes,” Aether says, his voice almost a cry.

Already reaching out, Xiao grasps at Aether’s arms, running his palms over Aether’s bare skin. The touch crackles like lightning between them, and Xiao drowns in Aether’s radiating glow; the familiar power of his Heart now changed forever. He needs more.

“Xiao,” Aether gasps, and the echo over their bond tells Xiao that they are equally overwhelmed.

He pulls Aether closer, closer, mindless of the water soaking into his clothes. He can feel his body healing, strength blooming in his limbs with every second that passes, and like this, it would be only days before his powers were fully restored. Heat ripples just beneath Xiao’s skin, his pulse throbs in time with Aether’s. A drop of water slowly tracks its way down the glow of Aether’s throat— a strange instinct rises with it—

“Ah!” Aether’s head tips sharply back as Xiao follows the droplet’s trail all the way back up to his jawline. The taste of him is sweet, and though Xiao braces himself, no nausea rises as he swallows. Does this mean— is he allowed to have Aether? Can he finally replace the layers of bitter nightmares and numbing snow that coat his tongue even now?

Xiao nuzzles just below Aether’s ear, nips carefully at his chin, then presses his lips to the ridge of Aether’s cheekbone before leaning back for a breathless moment. Aether’s eyes are huge and shining, and his hands are wrapped around Xiao’s waist, a mirror of the way Xiao’s arms encircle his neck.

Leaning in gently, Aether touches his mouth to Xiao’s eyelid, then temple in turn, each touch a firebrand, then slides down to rest his head on Xiao’s shoulder. “I’ve been waiting to do that for so long.”

The vibration of the words tickles over Xiao’s skin. He exhales slow.

The raging, desperate fire in his veins abruptly extinguishes, settling to nothing more than a soft glow of embers, and Xiao almost collapses where he stands. Aether’s arms tighten a little around Xiao’s back, urging him closer, and now Xiao falls without hesitation, resting his weight on Aether’s strength, ready to follow whenever Aether might pull him.

“It’ll be warmer in the bath, Xiao,” Aether murmurs. “Would it be alright if I help you undress?”

That does make Xiao flinch— but it is weak resistance, one born of instinct rather than true fear. He does not trust his throat to work anymore, so Xiao only tugs at the collar of his own robes in response, and Aether’s hands soon meet his to help slide the fabric from his shoulders.

Xiao could easily vanish his clothing in a moment, but there is something in the way Aether’s gentle touch reveals Xiao layer by layer, the way his bandaged fingers smooth easily over every scar and trace the pattern on Xiao’s upper arm, the way his gaze moves intently along with his work—

It leaves Xiao dizzy, flying; stumbling along until Aether at last tugs him into the steaming water. Heat suffuses him, not so much as to burn, but more than enough to ground him and make him aware of every inch of his body.

Positioning themselves is awkward when Aether must face the wall and rest his hands outside of the bath to keep them dry, so Xiao settles for curling up on the underwater ledge and leaning into Aether’s side. One of Aether’s hands drops to his hair to scratch lightly over his scalp, and Xiao melts, full to bursting with Aether’s warm, unmistakable affection.

He wants and is wanted, is allowed to receive gentle touches and give his own in return.

Slowly, Xiao strokes along the lines of Aether’s ribs, committing each curve and ridge to memory. He wants to make sure Aether never goes hungry again, and now he thinks— he is almost certain that Aether will let him. With a quiet sigh, Aether drops his head to rest on one arm, continuing to stroke through Xiao’s hair even as he turns so Xiao can reach his entire chest. Thoughtlessly, Xiao splays his hands out across Aether’s torso, and the responding hitch of breath sends a shiver all the way down his spine.

After a while, Aether’s skin begins to flush red, and he shakes himself a little as he rises. “Alright. Any more than this and I think I might pass out.” He sends Xiao a rueful smile. “I’m sorry to disturb you. You look so comfortable.”

And Xiao is, but only because Aether is here with him. “It’s fine. I have stayed long enough.”

Aether hoists himself out of the bath and promptly wraps a towel around his body before offering a hand to Xiao. “It’s just a shame I can’t really wash myself yet.”

Grasping high on Aether’s arm, well above the bandages, Xiao swings himself up and hesitantly takes a towel of his own. He could have washed Aether, would have wanted nothing more than to take care of him, but though the barrier between them has now been torn down… Xiao is not ready to suggest such a vulnerable thing. Not yet, at least.

They return to the main bedroom together, where Aether slides back into his robes and Xiao summons his own armor to dress himself in a flash, tucking Aether’s old offerings back into his belt.

Aether pauses, eyes bright. “That’s useful. Can you do that with any outfit?”

“…Yes, in a way. Only clothing an adeptus has chosen as their own and infused with their powers can be called like this.” Xiao hesitates. “After Saizhen… this is the only thing I have ever worn.”

He expects disappointment, but Aether only meets his gaze thoughtfully. “Do you want anything more to wear?”

“I— do not know.” Xiao has never considered claiming more garments than absolutely necessary.

“That’s alright,” Aether says, perching on the edge of the bed. “We’ll figure it out eventually, I think.” He taps the space at his left, and after moment, Xiao carefully settles beside him. “So, Xiao, will you tell me how this Heart sharing works? I know Rex Lapis promised to explain it as well, but if you know anything, I’d like to hear it from you.”

What exactly does Aether wish to know? “…The merging of Hearts can only be done with a life-born adeptus, and is meant to strengthen both partners by that connection.” Xiao says slowly. “I will recover faster with my Heart close by, and if I had skill in healing, I would be able to save you from almost any injury.”

“Wait— you’ll recover faster if I’m nearby?”

Xiao hesitates. “Yes. Touching is best, though proximity alone—"

“So all this time I held back because I thought you were trying to keep your distance, when I could have been healing you instead?” Aether looks— outraged, almost.

“You could not have known. I was restraining myself as well,” Xiao says carefully.

A sigh shakes through Aether’s body. “Alright. Then what about me? I can feel—well, you— all the time, now. Does that mean anything?”

“…Since you hold my Heart, you also share my powers. Once we are both stronger, I imagine you will have to learn how to use them.”

“Hmm. And will you teach me?”

It is not even a question. “Of course.”

Aether smiles then, his whole face almost shining with his happiness. “Thank you. I’ve gone without my own powers for so long, I think I’ve even forgotten how it feels to have them.” His head bumps against Xiao’s shoulder. “I’m looking forward to it.”

His contentment is Xiao’s, and for a moment, Xiao is struck dumb by the impossible bliss of— of simply being in Aether’s presence, certain of his welcome and fearless in his trust. “Is that the answer you were searching for?”

“Mmhm.” Aether closes his eyes and nudges in even closer. “Though I’m sure I’ll think of something else later.”

An easy silence falls, blanketing them like snow as they breathe each other in. Xiao’s gaze falls to Aether’s hands, neatly clasped in his lap, and a thought rises to the surface of his mind.

“When will your bandages need to be changed?” Xiao rarely gives such care to his own injuries, so he has little idea of Aether’s needs in this respect.

Aether lifts his head. “Oh… now, probably, but it can wait until—”

“I will do it now.” And no, no, he had not meant the words to come so harshly— “Please,” Xiao tries again, haltingly. “I— want to help.”

Aether’s hands clench for a moment before he shifts to face Xiao. “…If you’re sure. You won’t mind… looking at it?”

If Xiao cannot begin fixing even the smallest of the hurts he has inflicted upon Aether, then how will he repair anything between them in their journey ahead? Careful of his sharp claws, Xiao takes Aether’s fingers in his and undoes the first folds of the wrappings, unwinding the stained gauze until Aether’s hands and wrist lie bare.

Both of Aether’s palms and inner fingers are marred by raised, angry red flesh, remnants of blood and clear fluid seeping from burst blisters. An equally painful handprint wraps around one wrist in glaring lines, and Xiao forces his expression still as he turns Aether’s hands over. He must face what he has done, but he cannot let Aether imagine for even a moment that Xiao is disgusted by him.

Aether’s gaze remains averted as Xiao focuses on summoning fresh bandages and a clean cloth to hand. There is no painless way to treat such severe wounds, but Xiao does what he can, running the cloth so lightly over Aether’s skin that it barely touches and channeling a cooling stream of power— all the healing he trusts himself to do— through Aether’s body. Through it all, Aether does not so much as flinch, and if it were not for the stinging echo over their bond, Xiao would not have known he was miserable at all.

Xiao relies on his memories of treating wounds from when the other Yaksha were alive to carefully rewrap Aether’s fingers. It does not take long to tie off the final loop, but even after he finishes, Xiao finds he cannot bring himself to release Aether’s hands. Once again, he does not understand his own instincts, and his thoughts are further dulled by the dripping, honeyed warmth of Aether’s presence. Does he want to pull Aether closer? Hold him at bay?

“Xiao?”

He cannot let go, but he has to do something—

As if caught in a trance, Xiao slowly presses his mouth to the backs of Aether’s fingers, closing his eyes to let every other sense paint give life to the moment. The sharp gasp of Aether’s breath, the silk of the bandages, and the smell of medicine and sunlight all sink deep into his mind, and Xiao holds tight for one last moment before letting go.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds Aether staring, and it takes Aether a long time to pull his hand all the way back to his lap. It takes the same time for Xiao to suddenly feel foolish— to have directed such a strange, useless gesture at the injuries he had caused, is it any wonder that Aether is left bewildered?

He starts to draw away, but Aether lunges to follow him at once. “No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Aether’s grip is light, but his gaze pins Xiao in place. “Everything is fine, I was just— surprised.”

Hesitantly, Xiao sits back down.

“Thank you for helping me.” Aether’s smile is cautious. “Would you mind if I sleep for a little while? I’m still a lot more tired than I was expecting.”

“Mm. Rest,” Xiao says, and then—

Aether slides down Xiao’s arm and his body shifts until he’s lying along the edge of the bed with his head resting in Xiao’s lap, utterly unafraid.

Frozen, Xiao stares down at him for a long, long time before tentatively resting one hand on Aether’s shoulder. Aether sighs hazily and nudges closer in response, and soon his dream threads begin to sift through the air, faint with the signs of a light sleep.

Clearly, he trusts Xiao to protect him in a way that Xiao had thought they’d lost forever. And Xiao will never break that trust again.

Notes:

im so soft send help

Chapter 22: To a New Tune

Notes:

Thinkin' about writing an Inazuma polyam AU when I'm not even done plotting this monstrosity yet smh

Aether has to pause and remind himself that he’s not still dreaming, when he wakes to his head still resting on Xiao’s thigh and the power of a tempest still dancing in his veins. It doesn’t take long. After all, this would be a good dream, whereas sleep brings him nothing but nightmares.

Groaning, Aether shifts and tries to clear his sleep-dry throat, and the warm spot pressing over his shoulder immediately lifts. He misses it.

“You are awake?”

“’Morning, Xiao,” Aether rasps out as he drags himself up to sitting. He blinks, and Xiao blinks back. “How long was I asleep?”

“The sun is setting,” Xiao says, which isn’t a very exact time, but it’s probably the best Aether is going to get.

With a nod, he slips out of bed and pads a bit unsteadily toward the water basin he’d seen next to the bath earlier. Cool water ripples up from the stone there, and Aether does his best to wet a towel and wipe his face without ruining his fresh bandages. He feels better afterwards, exhaustion receding slightly from his body and mind. Even with Xiao’s truly terrifying powers now throbbing away in his chest, it seems it will take more than just a few days of rest to repair two thousand years of carefully inflicted damage.

When Aether turns, he finds Xiao hovering quietly at the door, and another burst of disbelieving joy flickers all the way down to his fingertips. He has Xiao again, and Xiao has him. Against all odds, they are both alive and safe, and Xiao has made it clear that his desire for Aether has never wavered. He may not love Aether back in the exact same way Aether loves him, but truthfully, as long as they can stay together like this… Aether doesn’t mind.

“Ready?” Xiao asks, the faint growl of his voice sending a pleasant shiver over Aether’s skin.

“Ready.”

Xiao leads him down to the kitchen again, where they set about making something to eat. Or rather, Aether makes something to eat, steaming a potful of rice and beans from the well-stocked pantry, while Xiao watches attentively over his shoulder. Is he… trying to learn how to cook? From their time in the valley, Aether know Xiao can at least manage basic food preparations, but if it really is true that he can’t eat anything— and it must be, Aether thinks with a sickening swoop in his gut— then it makes sense that Xiao wouldn’t know much about cooking either.

…Is it too presumptuous to hope Xiao is learning it for his sake?

“Is that enough?” Xiao asks as Aether carries his finished meal to the table.

Aether looks down at his plate. It’s a little plain, but he’s already helped himself to more of Rex Lapis’s food than he should’ve. “It is.”

Xiao’s brow furrows. “Ganyu and the Master and the other adepti eat much more.”

Aether has no idea how much adepti normally consume in one sitting, but… “I might be immortal, but I still have a human stomach.”

Xiao frowns some more, but he doesn’t argue further. Scooting his chair around the table, Aether brings them close enough to bump shoulders as he eats. Apparently, the searing flare of Xiao’s Heart only comes when they’re touching skin to skin, but it’s nice to be close all the same.

“What will you do next?”

Aether pats the pocket of his robes, where the letters for Xingqiu and Ningguang are tucked away. “I’d like to give these to Ganyu if I can, and then… maybe find Rex Lapis and ask him about adeptal bonds. It’s been a while since I’ve had a conversation with him.” He pauses. “Though it might be strange now that I know for certain he’s the Geo Archon.”

“Then… you did know the Master while you were in Liyue Harbor?” Xiao asks quietly.

Aether looks up at him. “…Yeah. He started visiting the teashop I worked at for a short while before my, ah, forced retirement, and he seemed to enjoy my company.”

“He was— kind? To you?”

Xiao seems… not quite worried, but definitely searching, and Aether picks his next words carefully. “Always. I spent a lot of time trying to avoid adepti or other immortals while I was alone in the harbor, but Rex Lapis was so gentle— to everyone, really— that after I found out who he was, it seemed ridiculous to suddenly try and avoid him.”

Xiao is silent for a while, considering, before he gives a short nod. “When you talk with the Master— I want to go with you.”

Aether hadn’t even thought about going without Xiao, but now he wants to know. “Of course, but… may I ask why?”

An even longer stretch of silence.

“For so long, I was afraid— but even when the Master saw you holding my Heart…” Xiao’s uncertain words trail off. “…I do not know.”

As expected. Aether lays his hand over Xiao’s and pushes through the pain to give what he hopes is an encouraging squeeze. Whatever Xiao is trying to work out for himself, Aether will do everything he can to help.

--

Finding Ganyu and passing her the letters only takes a minute, and once she’s gone, bounding over the stone peaks of Jueyun Karst and away toward the harbor, the only thing left to is meet with Rex Lapis.

As it turns out, he isn’t even in the palace, so Aether tugs Xiao back to their room, where Xiao sits on the bed and Aether curls around him from behind. They aren’t touching directly, but Aether can still feel the thrum of Xiao’s Heart and know it is healing. It’s comfortable, of course— but suddenly Aether wants more, wants to bare his skin and tuck himself into Xiao’s arms; run his fingers over every one of Xiao’s scars and make sure he knows none of them make him worth any less. But away from the steam-shrouded bath and the desperation of their restored connection, it seems strange to ask for something so… intimate. He doesn’t even know if Xiao will want it again, given how overwhelmed he had seemed earlier.

So they wait, Aether drifting in the hazy in-between of consciousness and sleep, until Xiao abruptly stiffens, his focus on something far away.

“The Master has returned.”

Hastily, Aether shakes himself awake, climbing out of bed to brush the wrinkles from his clothes and the exhaustion from his mind. He wishes he could tidy his appearance a little more, especially before making a formal visit to an Archon; but even if Xiao wasn’t already waiting by the door, it’s not as if Aether has makeup and a comb on hand anyway. So instead, he just links his arm with Xiao’s and braces for whatever is to come.

Together, they walk to the great circular doorway Aether had seen at the end of the hall, and Xiao brings them to a stop at the threshold. Aether peers inside, and—

Apparently, seeing Rex Lapis’s adeptal form at a distance during the Rite of Descension is one thing, and seeing him up close is something else entirely. Throughout his travels, Aether’s seen more incredible gods and beasts than he can count, but as far as he’s concerned, dragons will never stop being one of the most terrifyingly beautiful.

“Oh, Xiao,” Rex Lapis rumbles. “And Aether as well?”

Xiao bows, and Aether copies him.

“My apologies for making you wait, and for my abrupt disappearance earlier today as well. Please, come in.”

The room is enormous, dominated by a luxurious nest in the center of the floor, with more normal, human-sized furniture all along the walls. Several more doors, both the large portals and small sliding panels, lead off into other rooms. If Rex Lapis spends his time switching between mortal and dragon forms, then Aether supposes the setup is practical enough.

He follows Xiao to kneel at the edge of the nest, and Rex Lapis lowers his great head to meet them.

“Did you pay another visit to Liyue Harbor today, my lord?” Xiao murmurs.

“I did.” Rex Lapis’s sigh sweeps over them. “Director Hu assigned me a consultation, and afterwards, I had intended to search for Childe. However… though I found him by his aura, as I followed him, it became clear that he was avoiding me. So I chose to leave him be.” His body coils tighter. “I admit I do not know if he will ever forgive me enough to speak with me again.”

This must the “friend” Xiao had spoken of, the one who’d attacked Rex Lapis and lost. But Aether doesn’t want to offer words of comfort when he has no understanding of the situation at all.

“But never mind that. You’re here to ask about the merging of adepti’s Hearts, correct? Is there anything in particular that you would like to know?”

Aether sits up straighter. “Xiao already told me a little, of how he will heal faster near me, and how I share his powers. But is there anything else you can tell us about that? Will he be weaker now that his powers are split with me?”

“On the contrary, Xiao’s power will be greater in your hands,” Rex Lapis says. He sounds like he’s smiling. “So I advise you to be careful once either of you begin to test your strength again. And as for the healing, Xiao should have the ability to restore you as well.”

“Ah, well, Xiao did mention that—”

“I have no skill in healing,” Xiao interrupts stiffly. “I attempted it once, at a time when it was my only remaining option. But it is far too great a risk otherwise.”

Rex Lapis’s hum shakes the floor. “All powers born from life carry with them the ability to heal. Those who say they cannot simply have not yet learned how.”

Xiao visibly braces himself. “My strength was made for destruction, not protection.”

Already opening his mouth to argue— what is protection, if not helping Aether recover from starvation, warding him from monsters, or even summoning cool breezes on stifling days?— but it seems Rex Lapis had already expected such a response.

“You were born of life, and even through centuries of corruption, your Heart has always been exceedingly gentle. Make no mistake, your greatest strength is healing, and it would be my pleasure to teach you, should you choose to learn.”

Xiao’s body is very still as he stares up into Rex Lapis’s solemn gaze, and Aether instinctively closes the gap between them, nudging against Xiao’s shoulder to offer his support.

“Do you… wish me to learn?” Xiao asks, his voice small.

Slowly, Rex Lapis shakes his head. “I will offer no opinion on the matter. There is no wrong answer, and I only wish for you to choose.”

Distant panic flutters in Aether’s chest, a panic that must be seeping in from Xiao. The weight of Xiao’s strange questions and Rex Lapis’s answers make it clear that this conversation runs far deeper than Aether could ever hope to understand, a long history that has tied them together and held them apart. The nebulous something that always seems to hang between Xiao and Rex Lapis whenever they meet face-to-face… it feels different from the barrier that had split Xiao and Aether, but no less important.

Aether won’t interfere in whatever is happening now, but Xiao’s fear leaves him aching in a way he can’t just let lie.

“It’s okay, Xiao,” he whispers. “Whatever you decide, I’m here.”

Xiao looks at him for an unsteady moment before bowing his head. “Then— I will learn, my lord. I swear you will not be disappointed.”

“I don’t believe you could disappoint me even if you tried,” Rex Lapis says with a huff of a laugh. “Shall we begin now?”

A flash of light, and Rex Lapis shifts to his mortal form, his long robes sweeping out around him as he also kneels before them.

“Now, my lord?” Xiao’s eyes are wide.

“Yes. There is no reason to allow Aether’s hands to remain injured any longer, after all.”

Oh. It would be nice to have full mobility back again, and it makes sense to allow Xiao to practice on someone he already trusts…

More distant terror washes through Aether’s mind as Xiao flinches away from him.

…Or not. Xiao’s radiating affection for him is as strong as ever, so is his fear simply of hurting Aether? It seems likely.

Without hesitation, Aether places his hands in Xiao’s trembling ones, and, because he can, leans in to place a brief kiss on Xiao’s cheek. “You healed me before, remember? And now Rex Lapis is here to make sure nothing goes wrong. I trust you.”

Stiffly, Xiao nods, his fingers wrapping softly around Aether’s hands.

“Then, pardon me,” Rex Lapis murmurs as he reaches out to grasp both Aether and Xiao’s arms.

A spark of ancient power lights in Aether’s mind, and he inspects it cautiously. Seeing it like this, it is easy to believe that Rex Lapis is the oldest and strongest of the gods in this world.

Rex Lapis’s quiet instructions whisper through the air, but Aether barely hears them, distracted as he suddenly is by the rising flood of Xiao’s power in his body. He gasps through the pressure of Xiao’s Heart spilling over, threatening to burst from his chest; grits his teeth as the storm in his veins howls. His body strains to hold itself together, but it’s not as if it hurts, and then—

The gale dies down to a steady current, and Aether matches Xiao’s next inhale without thinking. They move as one, breathe as one; perfectly attuned to the other’s thoughts— Aether fills the bond with as much love as he can push across, feeling as Xiao’s fear drains rapidly away, replaced by a hesitant bloom of trust in return.

Eyes fixed upon his task, Xiao drags his fingers in tingling lines all the way from Aether’s wrists to his fingertips, and Aether has to bite back the noise that threatens to slip from his throat. The pain that has been constantly buzzing at the edges of his awareness fades in a moment, and when Xiao peels away the bandages, it is to reveal smooth, unmarked skin.

Aether flexes his fingers in and out before reaching out to take Xiao’s stunned face in both hands, sparks bursting under his skin at the now-unhindered touch. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Xiao.”

Xiao lifts his own hand to clasp gently around Aether’s wrist; and slowly, slowly, his expression eases— then lifts into a tiny smile. Aether’s breath freezes in his lungs at the sight, and he can’t even bring himself to care. Xiao is so beautiful.

“It no longer hurts?”

“Not at all.” Aether’s cheeks hurt from how hard he’s smiling. He drops his hands to lean in instead, his forehead bumping against the ridges of Xiao’s horns. “It was nice, even.”

“Good,” Xiao says in that rough way of his, but it’s so warm, enough that Aether almost cries. How long has it been since he last loved like this?

Shakily, Aether pulls back to look at Rex Lapis as well. “Thank you for helping me— helping both of us.”

Rex Lapis shakes his head with a soft smile. “It was my pleasure.”

Movement flickers in the corner of Aether’s eye, and he turns to see Xiao’s half-raised hand and gaze straining toward the god in front of them. Rex Lapis seems surprised, but he extends his cupped palms to take Xiao’s hand and press it flat against his own chest.

A beat.

Then Xiao’s whole body sags, and Aether jolts as something reverberates across their bond; revelation and relief tied up in a swirl of Rex Lapis’s power.

“Thank you,” Xiao whispers. “Thank you, Lord— Lord Rex.”

Rex Lapis makes a startled sound, but there is no hesitation when he gathers Xiao into his arms. “Whatever you choose to protect, I will protect as well. I only pray that this time, my first promise to you may be fulfilled just as completely as your promise to me.”

It’s as if the air has suddenly flooded with the warmth of a crackling fire and the scent of spring blossoms— a near-tangible expression of the two adepti’s joy and hope— and Aether has never been happier to just sit back and watch. This is the first time he’s heard Xiao refer to Rex Lapis by name, and he can only hope it means that Xiao has found the answer to whatever it was he was searching for. Maybe he’ll even share it with Aether someday.

After a while, Rex Lapis beckons, and Aether carefully steps into the nest to hover at his side. There’s no way he’s anything other than an intruder in this moment between an Archon and his beloved friend, so why—?

A twisting shimmer brings Rex Lapis back to his towering dragon form, and his tail promptly loops around to sweep both Aether and Xiao into the sinuous curve of his body. Aether can’t stop a yelp as he falls, tumbling backwards into the many soft pillows and blankets that make up the nest.

“Rex Lapis?”

Aether looks to his side, but Xiao doesn’t seem particularly alarmed by this new development— in fact, he looks almost as if he’s asleep. So maybe everything is alright?

“Please, if you would— call me Zhongli. That is the name I have taken on for my recent visits to the harbor.”

Silently, Aether rolls the sounds over his tongue. “Lord Baoshen is gone, then?”

“Ah, that— truthfully, I had only intended to use that name and appearance for a single visit to Liyue Harbor. But after discovering your excellent company, I had no choice to but keep both in order to continue our meetings,” Rex— no, Zhongli— says, apparently sheepish.

“Oh,” Aether says, a little surprised. “Well, I’m glad you did.” Who would’ve thought he’d become so important to an Archon?

Xiao makes a sudden grumbling sound, and Aether looks down to see him dragging himself up just enough to lean his head against Zhongli’s golden scales. Aether hurries to sit next to him. In front of them, Zhongli’s tail sweeps across to complete the loop of his body, and his head drops into the pillows, close enough to watch Aether out of one enormous eye.

“Is there anything else you could tell us about merged Hearts?” Aether asks quietly. He can feel Xiao’s awareness in the back of his mind, growing hazy with contentment.

“Hmm. Beyond increased strength and healing ability, it is said that those who share Hearts will also be able to share emotions, and even find their partner from anywhere in Teyvat. I believe I have seen some of this from you and Xiao already.”

Aether nods. He hasn’t had the chance to test “finding Xiao from anywhere,” but based on what he’s experienced so far, it tracks. “I can sense Xiao’s emotions sometimes, though I don’t know how much he feels from me. The greatest change I’ve noticed is…” he stops, feeling his face grow hot as he realizes exactly what he’s about to say. “That is, Xiao and I are affected by… proximity.”

“You are most comfortable while touching each other,” Zhongli says more than asks.

“…Yes.”

“That is normal, even among adepti who share more superficial or temporary Heart bonds. For many of us, trust manifests as a tangible sensation, so we may know where it is safe to lower our guards. And as a life-born adeptus, Xiao will be particularly dependent upon connections with others.”

“Really?” Aether studies Xiao’s peaceful face. Without the wary lines that normally seem to make up his expression, he looks… younger. Softer. “Then it’s alright if I continue to… well, cling to him like this?

Zhongli pauses. “There will be times when the two of you must part, of course, but for now, the closer you remain, the faster you both will heal. And you have long since proved that you have the ability to survive without the other.”

“I see.” Slowly, Aether drops a hand to Xiao’s forehead, smoothing his thumb over the base of one of the horns there. An unexpected a shiver jolts through Xiao’s body under the touch, and Aether stills. A sensitive spot, then.

“What… what happened earlier?” Aether asks next, moving his hand safely back to Xiao’s hair instead. “Or rather, why is Xiao drifting like this?”

“I am not certain myself. But for quite a long time…” Zhongli sighs. “As I understand it, Xiao brought with him the lessons he learned from Saizhen’s cruelty, and he has spent his time with me doing his best to unlearn them one by one. That he has at last called me by name— it seems Xiao has found a way to shake off another of his fears, and that release of tension has brought him to collapse.” The fluffy end of his tail curls in to brush over Xiao’s legs. “I will take care of him, so please do not worry.”

So that moment had been as important as Aether had guessed, though apparently only Xiao knows exactly what had changed. A moment of quiet ticks by as Aether carefully turns newly obtained knowledge over in his mind— then all that’s left is to ask his final question.

“If the God of Dreams could control Xiao by holding his Heart,” he starts apprehensively. “Then… what does that mean for me?” Ever since he’d woken up at Xiao’s side, he’d tried so hard not to say anything that could’ve been interpreted as a command. But if he doesn’t have to…

Zhongli’s considering hum rumbles through the whole nest. “It seems that is something we must discover for ourselves. I cannot recall even so much as a legend telling of one adeptus in a pair controlling the other, but then… you and Xiao are not adepti who have exchanged Hearts, but rather a human and adeptus sharing one Heart between two bodies. And I do not know how that change will affect your bond.”

At least it’s not an unequivocally bad answer, Aether supposes. But even if he has no intention whatsoever of controlling Xiao, he’s rather not find out he has the power to do so in the first place.

“Alright. Thank you, Zhongli.” He hopes his smile doesn’t look too exhausted.

“Of course. If you like, you may rest with Xiao, and I will watch over you. I can see that both of you still have far more to heal.” Zhongli’s warm breath rustles Aether’s hair.

“I guess we do.” Stifling a yawn, Aether slumps down and allows Xiao’s head to tip heavily against his side. “When I wake up, would you be willing help me bring some living necessities up to the palace? It would be nice to at least change my clothes again.”

Zhongli makes a chuffing sound. “Ah, I will have everything you need delivered to Xiao’s room right away. I only wish you had asked me sooner.”

“Mm. I’m sorry Zhongli. I guess it's a habit— I hate being a bother,” Aether manages sleepily. “Thank you.”

“From now on, please view your needs as if they were my own, and I will take care of you both.” The words are commanding, but voice in which they are spoken is as soft as lullaby. “Sleep well, Aether.”

Notes:

Stop by my tumblr for a hello! And here's my best attempt at how Aether puts his hair up with both Lumine and Ganzhi's accessories:

Chapter 23: Freely Given

Notes:

I saw one (1) piece of fanart in which Xiao and Aether had matching weapons, and behold, this entire fic was born.

“With all due respect, Zhongli, I’m going to have to refuse. I don’t need all of this. We don’t need all of this.”

Four of them are clustered around the mountain of things that Zhongli has magically piled in the middle of Xiao’s room— Zhongli frowning as he studies the pile, Ganyu giggling quietly off to the side, Xiao looking as if he might start running at any second, and Aether despairing at the absurdity his life has become.

“Where did you even get it all?” He has to ask.

“They were purchases from the harbor or offerings to me from the people of Liyue,” Zhongli says; then quickly adds, “but I assure you that they are now gifts freely given.”

“That’s… not what I’m worried about,” Aether sighs. His mind is still too foggy from his long afternoon nap to handle this with grace. At least his sleep has been mostly nightmare-free since he started doing it at Xiao’s side. “How about this: Xiao and I will go through it all and pick out everything we need, and you can put the rest in a safe place somewhere for us to use later. Would that be alright?”

“Hm. If you are certain.”

Aether is very certain. “Thank you.”

Zhongli leaves the room, and Aether crouches down beside the first loaded chest. Luxurious clothing, battle armor, soft blankets, a veritable cascade of brushes and scrubs and perfumes, hairpins and jewelry, calligraphy tools, sets of fine china— what exactly does Zhongli expect them to do with it all?

“Xiao, is there anything you wanted from… here…” Aether meets Xiao’s mute stare. Probably not, then.

Ganyu pats Aether lightly on the shoulder before promptly beginning to set aside all the vases and wall scrolls and sculptures and other pieces of extravagant art that Zhongli has given them. Aether barely stops himself from leaping over to hug her.

“I imagine the two of you will decorate with your own belongings later,” she says, a trace of laughter in her words. “Lord Rex has always been like this; perhaps even more so now that most of the adepti are gone and he has fewer reasons to give things away.”

Eventually, Aether manages to coax Xiao over to the pile, and they settle on just a few things; like soaps for the bath, a comb and hairpins, new clothes for both Xiao and Aether— and a calligraphy set, because at least it’s as functional as it is pretty. After that, Ganyu helps them move the considerable excess to an empty room far down the hall, and when they go to eat, Aether cooks an extra portion of dinner for her in return.

The palace is dark by the time he and Xiao finally make it into their own bed. Aether catches Xiao’s luminous gaze and links their hands together, breathing through the lightning that crackles under his skin at touch.

“How are you feeling, Xiao?”

“…Strange,” Xiao says after a long pause. “I feel certain that have no fear of Lord Rex, not anymore, and yet… I still cannot seem to understand him.”

It surprises Aether sometimes, how Xiao will seal his words behind an iron wall one moment, only to freely share his heart the next.

“I’m not sure I understand Zhongli either,” he laughs softly. “But I think that’s okay.”

Curling up in bed, he lifts the corner of the blanket in invitation. “Will you sleep tonight? I know you rested at least a little when we were with Zhongli earlier, but—”

“I cannot sleep,” Xiao shakes his head, and if he’s safe and finally unafraid of Zhongli, then why won’t he let himself rest? If only their bond allowed Aether to do more than just sense Xiao’s vague unease.

“But I will stay with you. Goodnight, Aether.”

--

In the morning, Aether takes a quick dip in the bath (Xiao watches him the whole time, eyes almost glowing, and Aether wonders why he doesn’t mind at all), and combs and properly ties his hair up for the first time in days. He doesn’t have Ganzhi’s hairpin, but he can at least add a certain feathered clip to the end of a small braid… a reminder of what he’s still missing.

On the way out of the room, he passes a mirror— and stops to stare. He looks… healthy. Alive. His body must be feeding on Xiao’s energy just as much as actual food, because his skin is flushed with color and the sharp jut of his bones is already beginning to smooth out.

Finally, he doesn’t look like a wreck next to Xiao’s piercing beauty.

In their preparations for the day, and even as they make their way down to the kitchen so Aether can eat, they barely touch at all. Or rather… they do, but every touch is nothing more than a quick brush of fingers or a hand on the other’s arm. It’s not uncomfortable, and the dark, heavy barrier that had hung between them remains down. But it’s as if they can only manage anything more intimate— anything more intense— when they’re too caught up in in a flood of emotions to notice their own actions.

It could just be the same cycle they’d broken out of before, the one where Aether was sure Xiao wanted to keep his distance, and Xiao was certain Aether had not wanted his touch. But if it’s not— if Xiao truly prefers these small touches and doesn’t want to lose himself to the tide that always pulls them in whenever they do anything more—

Then Aether can do nothing but understand.

For now, he’ll leave it, he decides. If things change, then there’s nothing to worry about, and if they don’t… he’ll just have to risk seeming overeager and ask.

Shortly after breakfast, Xiao receives a summons from Zhongli for another lesson in healing, so after a quick discussion, they part ways. If the lesson goes on for more than about an hour, Aether will just backtrack to join them, but in the meantime… he has a palace to explore.

As it turns out, the layout of Zhongli’s house is much the same as any other ruler’s palace: dozens of rooms for guests and servants, a grand hall, a throne room of sorts, a kitchen, a council room— the list is not a short one. The only unusual features seem to be a long hallway full of displayed weapons and empty Visions that Aether tiptoes respectfully through, and a distinct lack of dungeons.

A memorial for the lost and a refusal to keep prisoners in his home… what does that say about Zhongli? Something good, Aether hopes.

Satisfied with his brief tour, Aether wanders his way back through the halls, pausing here and there to admire Zhongli’s tasteful (and clearly expensive) choice in art, until the glitter of some nearby aura catches his attention. His senses are still weak, even with Xiao’s added power— but after a few centuries of friendship, the pulse of Ganyu’s energy is familiar enough.

“Aether!” Ganyu calls when she rounds the corner to meet him. “Oh, what happened to Xiao?”

“Zhongli called him for another lesson in healing.” Aether shrugs. “We decided there wasn’t much of a reason for me to stay with them when I’m no longer injured, so here I am.”

“Xiao is practicing… healing?” Ganyu asks slowly.

“Ah, right, I forgot to mention it yesterday. He was the one who healed my hands.” Aether wiggles his fingers a little.

“And here I had thought Lord Rex… well, never mind that.” Ganyu shakes herself. “I’m glad to hear it. It seems to suit him, somehow.”

“I thought so too.”

Ganyu nods. “And how about you, Aether? Is your bond not strained by distance from Xiao?”

“…Should it be?” Aether touches a hand to his chest, but though he can feel the tether to Xiao as clear as day, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it.

“Perhaps not, then. Bonded adepti— not Heart bonded, of course, but adepti who were sworn to each other— always told me that they could hardly bear to leave their partners in the early days of the connection. But I suppose your bond with Xiao is different enough.”

“Interesting. I haven’t had any problems so far”— he touches a hand to his chest, feeling Xiao’s Heart pulse just beneath his own— "and as far as I can tell, Xiao isn’t worried either.”

And thank the stars for that. Between the two of them, they have enough troubles already. But just in case… Aether will have to keep a more careful eye on the bond in the future.

Ganyu hums contemplatively— then starts, her eyes suddenly growing wide. “Oh! I’m sorry, Aether, I had completely forgotten— I have more letters for you.” She withdraws two envelopes from her robe and hands them over. “Lady Ningguang requested that you visit her as soon as your business here is complete, and the Liang family retainer who gave me Xingqiu’s letter seemed insistent upon a swift response from you.”

The Liang family retainer?

“You didn’t see Xingqiu?” Aether asks, worry already hissing to life in his gut.

Ganyu shakes her head. “It seems he was out on important business, though I did not inquire further.”

It could be nothing, but between the concerning timing of Chongyun’s disappearance and Xingqiu apparently being too busy to personally hand his off message to Ganyu…

“Pardon me,” Aether murmurs as he flips Xingqiu’s letter open right then and there. The handwriting is just as scrawling and tangled as always, and Aether hasn’t had nearly enough practice to read Xingqiu’s messages in a hurry—

 

Apologies, my liege, the letter begins.

I had hoped to deliver my words in person this time around, but the situation involving Chongyun has grown far too concerning for me to ignore. It seems he had gone with his clan on the day of the Rite for an emergency night hunt, and now his clan has returned— without him. They refused to answer my questions and only insist that Chongyun is busy with special training, but I simply cannot believe something so ridiculous. Therefore, I plan to begin an investigation of my own, and if there is any way at all you could make haste to Liyue Harbor and offer your assistance, I will be forever in your debt. Speak to Xu. He will know where to find me.

Archon’s blessings upon you,
Xingqiu

 

Aether scans the words carefully, then scans them again, just to be sure he is not misreading even one of Xingqiu’s jumbled characters. The bruises on Chongyun’s arms had never been a secret— at least, not to Aether and Xingqiu— but he would never have guessed the exorcists would have gone so far as to…

A pang of nausea rises in his stomach, and Xiao’s Heart immediately thrums with worry in response. Right. Xiao is here now, and Aether can’t just leave him behind.

“Aether? What does it say?” Ganyu’s wavering tone is that of someone who fully expects to be rejected, and Aether must look terrible if she’s asking anyway.

“I—I’m sorry, Ganyu. One of my friends from Liyue Harbor has gone missing”— been abandoned, he doesn’t say— “and I need to go back to the city to help find him.”

“Gone missing? May I ask… how?”

“It’s Xingqiu’s friend— well, my friend too, but— he belongs to the Liu exorcist clan, and Xingqiu says he went on a night hunt with his family and never returned.”

Ganyu’s eyes are wide. “Has a search not already been launched for him?”

“That’s… that’s the problem. The clan says he’s just busy, but—”

“Is the exorcist’s oath not to always stand together against any threat of evil that may try to tear them apart?” Ganyu says sharply. “And yet they have abandoned one of their own?”

Trust the Yuehai Pavilion secretary to know the details of every Liyuean sect.

“Xingqiu and I have reason to believe”— hidden bruises and a hated Vision and fear— “that our friend is… not well-liked by his family.”

For a moment, Ganyu is silent. “I see. Well… I do not say this to stop you, Aether, but you cannot leave Xiao just yet, not without hurting him. Or yourself, for that matter.”

“I know,” Aether murmurs. “I know. What should I do, Ganyu? I need to help, but I’m not ready to use my powers yet, and if Xiao can’t enter the city…”

“I am uncertain if Xiao cannot enter the harbor so much as…” Ganyu frowns. “Well, you should ask him, and inform Lord Rex of your troubles while you are there. I will do everything in my power to help find your friend, and I can only imagine he will do the same.”

“Thank you, Ganyu,” Aether breathes. He tugs on the thread that links him with Xiao, a reassurance to counter Xiao’s worry. “Then— I’ll be going.”

“I will begin my own investigation in the harbor right away.” Ganyu smiles as she passes Aether on her way to the entrance hall. “May our next meeting come with news of success.”

--

Alerted by Aether’s earlier panic, Xiao, and by extension, Zhongli, are already ready and waiting when Aether pushes into the room. It takes only a minute for Aether to explain the situation, and just as Ganyu had predicted, Zhongli agrees to help without hesitation.

“I may not rule so directly over the people of Liyue as I once did, but they are still mine to protect,” he says. “If you can bring me something that resonates with your friend’s aura— something that he treasures, perhaps, or often keeps on his person— then it will be a simple matter for me to find him wherever he may be.”

It seems like an easy enough condition, but Aether never kept any of Chongyun’s things at his own house, and getting into the Liu clan estate is already a nigh-impossible task— never mind being allowed into Chongyun’s room or anywhere else likely to have one of his “treasured possessions.” It seems they will have to first find Xingqiu after all.

“I don’t know where to get any of Chongyun’s things, but there is someone else who will. Ah… Zhongli, do you think it would be safe for me or Xiao to use our powers yet?”

“No,” Zhongli says immediately. “You would likely be able to reach the harbor, but at the cost of your current recovery. I will carry both of you as far as you need.”

Xiao’s searing fingers circle one by one around Aether’s wrist, then, a decidedly nervous touch. “Aether— I cannot risk walking among the mortals of the harbor.”

“…Why not?” Aether asks carefully, folding his other hand over Xiao’s.

“I pose far too great a danger to such fragile lives. A single mistake and I would…”

The phantom tang of blood fills Aether’s mouth as a deep sense of despair creeps across their bond. A memory? Aether’s throat constricts with Xiao’s sudden pain, and pulls Xiao’s hand close to his chest, barely managing to hold back from just throwing his arms around him. Aether wants nothing more than to convince Xiao that he’s wrong; tell him that he is far too gentle and aware of his own strength to ever do anything as terrible as whatever he must be imagining.

…But Xiao has killed innocents before— against his will, but somehow Aether doubts Xiao will see it that way— and proving to him his own innocence is not something Aether can do in a day.

“I understand,” he says quietly. “Then, is there some way that I could enter the harbor and find Xingqiu without hurting the both of us?”

Xiao frowns. “…I will be able to track your aura from outside the walls of the city, and we may part for some time before the bond begins to strain.”

“Since the two of you do not seem to be suffering the separation effects that normally accompany a new bond, you should have a few days at least,” Zhongli interjects. “Although that period may be different for a bond between a human and adeptus.”

“I see. Then… I’ll go into the city to meet Xingqiu and collect something we can use to find Chongyun. If there are no unexpected problems, I’ll return to you right afterward, and Zhongli can help us from there.” Aether glances searchingly between the two. “Will that be alright?”

“I can find no fault,” Zhongli agrees as Xiao nods silently. “We may depart as soon as you are ready.”

Preparations don’t take long. Neither Xiao nor Aether has much of anything to pack, after all, and Aether is about as battle-ready as he can be in his current weakened, weaponless state. They are quiet as they walk out to the palace gates— but Aether tentatively slips his hand into Xiao’s, and Xiao squeezes his fingers in return, sparks lighting everywhere their skin meets, and for a moment, all is well in the world.

Zhongli is waiting for them outside, and he beckons Aether forward the moment their eyes meet. Aether exchanges a glance with Xiao, but he seems just as confused— so Aether goes, tipping his head back to look Zhongli in the face.

“Before we leave, there is one more gift I would like to give.” Zhongli extends both hands, palms up, and the air stirs as something glitters into existence in his grasp.

It’s a sword. A stunning, gem-green blade with intricate carvings and a small, wing-like hilt, and Aether is immediately captivated. This weapon is clearly the work of a master craftsman.

Behind him, Xiao inhales sharply, and Aether would turn to look, but Zhongli is already holding the sword out to him.

“This is the Jade Cutter, a weapon hewn from a single stone, and the resonant pair to Xiao’s Jade-Winged Spear. You carry yourself like a swordsman, so I had thought this the ideal weapon to offer you, but do tell me if you would prefer—"

“No,” Aether murmurs as he reverently takes the blade in both hands. “No, it’s perfect.”

And somehow— it really is. The balance is even, and the grip is slender for Aether’s small hands. Of course the blade has the weight of the stone it is, but it remains light enough for to Aether to wield one-handed and swap guards with a flick of his wrist. Patterns are etched over the entire sword, but there are no unnecessary spikes or dangling ornamentation to distract him.

“It is an ancient weapon that will shape itself to your hand and strengthen with your will,” Zhongli says. “May it serve you well.”

Aether takes a few experimental swings, long-unused skills sparking back to life in his body. He spins, ducks, blocks; finishes in a taunting stance, his arms shaking more than they really should be. Between his slowly recovering strength and years without training, it can’t be helped, but it’s still a little disappointing. Focusing, Aether allows the sword to disperse from his hand before he finally turns back to the others.

Zhongli is watching him with a pleased smile, while Xiao… Xiao stares, pride and awe and an innocent sort of desire blatant in his gaze.

Aether breathes in slow. For an eternity, he and Lumine had tried their best to avoid attention and attachment, to the point that Aether could grow uneasy under nothing more than a lingering gaze. But with Xiao, he feels he would do almost anything to keep those piercing moonglow eyes upon him.

Is it simply because Xiao had never expected anything of him, even from the beginning? Aether can’t explain the change, but he doesn’t need to to understand the yearning that tugs ever stronger in his chest.

He wants Xiao, and like chimes echoing back and forth in the wind, Xiao’s adoration for him rings louder and louder with every rebound across the bond. But though Xiao’s feelings are overwhelming, they are cloudy, directionless, as if unaware that he’s even meant to ask to act on them, let alone move on his own. Aether takes a single step forward, vision tunneling until all he can see is Xiao’s face. All he has to do is make the leap, press the pads of his fingers to Xiao’s skin, and Xiao would accept him without hesitation, surely—

A burst of light flashes through the air to bring Zhongli to his dragon form, and the frozen moment shatters, both Xiao and Aether stumbling in place. Still shaky, Aether clambers up the smooth scales and ridges of Zhongli’s back. Zhongli may be a friend, but it’s still strange to be using the Geo Archon himself as glorified transportation. Xiao settles in behind him, warm and solid, and Aether can’t help but relax a little. Perhaps someday, he and Xiao will be able to reach for each other easier than breathing, but until then, he is safe in the assurance that Xiao will never give him up again.

Notes:

To all the people who left actual novel-length comments on the previous chapters... may you be blessed by the fanfic gods, and I swear I will respond to you all soon! You guys really had me crying tears of joy out in public :')

<3

Chapter 24: Meetings

Notes:

Only got to do a rush edit today, so if you see anything suspicious, feel free to let me know.

TW: Implied (signs of?) emotional/domestic abuse.

“I will wait here,” Xiao says with a dip of his head. He pauses, then adds in a much lower tone, “…Be safe, Aether.”

“Always,” Aether leans in slowly, giving Xiao plenty of time to back away; and when he doesn’t, Aether brushes a kiss over the corner of his eye. “I’ll be back soon.”

Then Xiao darts away, across the field in which they’d landed and into the mountains that surround Liyue Harbor, while Aether and Zhongli walk side by side toward the city entrance.

It’s a sunny day with a cool breeze, unusual for the dry season, and completely at odds with Aether’s mood as he begins his search for Xingqiu.

“Zhongli, if there’s anything you needed to do in the harbor while I work on this, I don’t mind if you go. It could take me a while to contact Xingqiu and find something of Chongyun’s, after all.”

Zhongli tilts his head consideringly. “Very well. Simply offer a prayer for me if any trouble arises; otherwise, I will meet you outside the city with Xiao when you are ready.”

“I will.”

Resisting the urge to tug a non-existent hood over his face, Aether joins the flow of the crowd up toward Feiyun Slope. If he recalls correctly, Xu should be at the Feiyun Commerce Guild Hall or the Liang family estate— hopefully the first one, since Yujing Terrace will be a long walk for Aether’s already-tired legs.

As it turns out, he’s in luck— Xu isn’t just at the Guild Hall, he’s actually standing in the courtyard speaking to a messenger boy. Xu looks up sharply as Aether approaches, and he rushes forward as soon as the messenger bows his way out.

“Master Aether! Thank the Archons.”

“Good afternoon, Xu,” Aether greets. “It’s been a while.” Almost a decade, in fact.

“Have you recovered from your earlier… illness?” Xu says the word uncertainly, and Aether immediately gathers that Xingqiu had chosen not to give his retainer the details of Aether’s situation.

“For the most part, yes— and just in time, it seems. I apologize for my haste, but do you happen to know where Xingqiu is? He asked to meet with me in his last letter…”

A frown creases Xu’s face. “The young Master is currently out with a handful of patrol soldiers, following the paths the exorcists used on their last night hunt. He has the Tianquan’s ear, so this morning he swallowed his pride and appealed to her for recent records of exorcist activity. She agreed to his request, as you can see, but… all I know is that the young Master will be back shortly after the lunch hour.”

After lunch… Aether glances at the sky. If that’s the case, then he probably has an hour or two to wait out in the heat of the day. Already feeling more exhausted than he really should be, Aether nods. “I understand. But if I have to wait… Xu, would it be possible for me to take a portion of mora out of my investment holdings without too much trouble? I’ll need some money to use in the city.”

“For you, Master Aether, that should be no issue.” Xu smiles faintly. “Your account is nigh-famous among the Guild members by now.”

Wonderful. But as long as he can get enough mora for food…

“Thank you.”

A few minutes later and with a pouch of gold in hand, Aether steps back out into the street and begins wandering his way back down to Chihu Rock. There are good restaurants in Feiyun Slope, of course, but Aether is too tired to put up the front of grace and politeness he would need to dine in one of those more affluent establishments. Sometimes, all he needs is to stuff his face in a bowl of bamboo shoot soup without worrying about appearances.

He ends up at an open kitchen surrounded by clusters of tables and chairs, where he is promptly met by a girl with vibrant clothes and sparkling eyes.

“Welcome to Wanmin Restaurant! What can I get you today?”

“Ah…” Aether rapidly scans down the available menu. “How about the har gao? With noodles, please.”

“Coming right up!” The girl says. “Take any seat you like, and I’ll bring your food as soon as it’s ready.”

This restaurant must be popular, because almost every table is crowded, with even more people leaning against the walls or eating as they walk away. It takes Aether a minute to find so much as an empty chair, and even that is opposite a uniformed man picking at his soup. Normally, he wouldn’t bother trying to sit, but he’s tired, already feeling irritable and light-headed without Xiao close by his side. He’ll take his chances.

“Excuse me,” Aether calls quietly, and the man looks up. Next to the plaster taped over his visibly swollen cheek, his eyes are a striking blue. “Would it bother you if I took this seat while I wait for my food?”

“Oh, not at all, comrade!” The man gestures broadly. “I could use the company.”

“Many thanks, sir.” Aether collapses in the offered chair with a sigh.

“You can call me Childe. Are you new to Liyue as well? You don’t exactly look like a local.” The man, Childe, asks with a friendly grin.

Childe… The name sounds vaguely familiar, though Aether can’t think why.

“I’m Aether. And I’m not a local, but I have been living in the area for a while now.” Quite a while.

“I see, I see. This is a lovely nation, isn’t it? I’m from Snezhnaya myself, and the temperature differences have taken some getting used to.”

“I imagine so,” Aether laughs. It’s only been a minute, but he can already feel the power of Childe’s charisma, a halo of bright sincerity drawing him in. The only thing that gives him pause is the uneasy brush of darkness that weaves its way through what Aether can sense of Childe’s aura. “May I ask how long you’ve been living in Liyue?”

“Oh, I was assigned here about a year ago for, uh, job training at the Northland Bank. But there was a bit of an incident a couple of days ago that’s made me consider returning home,” Childe says, briefly touching his injured face. His smile seems… tense.

“…I’m sorry to hear that,” Aether tries. It doesn’t seem like Childe is interested in sharing any further details, so he doesn’t press. “Working at Northland Bank must be interesting though.”

Childe waves a dismissive hand. “It’s all paperwork and customer complaints, as if it’s my problem they hadn’t done a better job managing their money. The only exciting part is when I get to go out for debt collections.”

Aether warily studies the glint in Childe’s eyes. “I suppose that’s exactly what it sounds like?”

“For a nation supposedly known for its prosperity, there are an awful lot of people who refuse to pay their debts,” Childe purrs. “But I always convince them in the end.”

Ah. So Childe is one of those men who finds more pleasure in war than peace, and by his words and the proudly displayed hydro Vision on his belt, he’s probably the one who ends all the conflicts he creates. The only strange thing is that blank hunger in his gaze— Childe carries no apathy, nor cruelty, nor madness; just a void that demands to be filled. Aether frowns. It reminds him, just a little, of the haunted light he’d noticed in Xiao’s eyes whenever they met in Nantianmen. A helpless, restless search for violence that never truly went away.

“Thank you for waiting!” A cheery voice interrupts them. “Your har gao is ready.”

“Oh! Thank you, um…”

“I’m Xiangling! Just call me over if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Xiangling. It looks amazing.”

And it really does, although the aroma rising from the perfectly wrapped bundles seems faintly… spicy? Oh well, this is Liyue, after all.

Childe picks his own chopsticks back up as Aether lifts the first bite of shrimp to his mouth. The food is spicy, seasoned with the distinctive burn of jueyun chili, but somehow, Aether notices that unusual flavor less than the way Childe is holding his chopsticks. He has them grasped by only the thumb, fore, and middle fingers, balanced at the joints rather than supported by the fingertips, and the sticks are almost parallel as he tries to wield them. The other two fingers are bent awkwardly into his palm, and the fingers that are moving look… stiff.

Like that, it doesn’t look like he could pick up a baozi, let alone the thin string of a noodle.

Childe makes a frustrated sound, and Aether pauses.

“I don’t mean to overstep, but… would you like some help?”

A sigh. “No, I haven’t been able to get the hang of these Archons-dammed things since I arrived here. There was someone who tried to teach me, but—” Childe’s face abruptly shutters. “Well. It doesn’t matter, he won’t be helping me anymore.”

And, transferring both sticks to the palm of his hand, Childe roughly stabs the chopsticks into his bowl like a shovel, stirring the contents around until the noodles clump up and he can lift them up for a bite. It’s horrifying. It’s… actually vaguely impressive.

“My table manner failures aside, what brings you to this side of Chihu Rock?” Childe asks after swallowing. “It looks like you’re new to this restaurant, at least.”

Aether’s mood drops like a stone. “…Yeah. I’m only here to look for my friend.”

“Your friend?”

“He’s been missing ever since the Rite of Descension. He’s an exorcist, and it looks like he was out on a night hunt when he disappeared, so… I’m worried.” That’s hardly the full story, of course, but it will do as an explanation for Childe.

Childe hums. “That is concerning.”

“Mm. With any luck, we’ll find him soon.”

Aether changes the topic after that, and Childe seems happy to follow his lead. Carefully, he probes at Childe’s hobbies outside of work, but they seem surprisingly non-violent— exploring old ruins, researching Liyuean history and adeptal magic, swimming in the harbor, and finding good places to eat. On the last explanation, Childe slips again, his face brightening, then plunging into shadow when he mentions the friend who would always go with him.

“Do you… miss him?” Aether asks; and Childe looks at him, cold. Hollow.

“Not at all.”

Aether hastily moves on.

As his plate steadily empties, Aether additionally learns that Childe had been born to a family in a small fishing village, but now occupies a high position in the Snezhnayan military thanks to his skill and ambition. Learns that he loves his family and dogs and ice fishing and the thrill of a challenging battle. Learns that he had come to Liyue at the command of the Cryo Archon, “Her Majesty the Tsaritsa,” a god whom he says he worships… but Aether can’t help but notice the tension in his face as he speaks.

In return, Aether tells a few ambiguous stories from when he’d worked at Ganzhi’s teashop and the Feiyun teahouse, but really, it is Childe who does most of the talking. Aether’s always been better at listening anyway, so he doesn’t mind.

Eventually, though, he finishes his food, every bite gurgling uncomfortably in his over-full stomach— he’s still not used to eating so well or so often— and collects his dishes to return to the counter. “Thank you for letting me join you, Childe. And thank you for the conversation.”

“Same to you, comrade! You’ve certainly made my lunch break more interesting.”

Aether hesitates. “Whatever problems you’ve been having recently… well, I’m only a concerned stranger, but I truly hope everything works out for you.”

“Thanks,” Childe says with a crooked smile. “I hope you find your friend, too.”

Aether bows his way out, and Childe gives him a lazy wave before returning to stabbing at his food.

After that, it doesn’t take long for Aether to pay for his surprisingly cheap meal, receive a sunny farewell from Xiangling, and drag his weary body back out onto the main thoroughfare up to the Feiyun Commerce Guild Hall. Maybe Xingqiu will have returned already.

--

“Aether,” Xingqiu says, staring with huge eyes as Aether walks through the meeting room door. “You’re alright.”

And then the air is knocked out of Aether’s lungs and he almost collapses as Xingqiu crashes into him full force, burying his face into Aether’s shoulder. Behind them, Xu makes a strangled noise, but Aether blocks it out, instead lifting a hand to stroke over Xingqiu’s hair. Xingqiu carries himself so well, it’s sometimes easy to forget he’s still just sixteen.

“I am. Lady Ganyu got me to the help I needed.”

Slowly, Xingqiu pulls back, sniffing conspicuously as he does. “You looked like you were dying, my liege. Then you disappeared, and I didn’t receive any word of your condition until late in the evening— I was worried, you know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But everything worked out, and I even managed to solve a few other problems along the way.”

Xingqiu’s mouth twitches, as if to say something else, before he exhales slowly and the tension bleeds from his shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here, my liege. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Chongyun needs help. I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Aether says firmly. “Did you find anything on your expedition?”

“Nothing,” Xingqiu whispers. “Nothing at all. I’ve already appealed to my family, the Liu clan, and even to the Tianquan, but none of them could or would help me. I… I don’t know what to do next.”

Helpless despair drips from every word, and Aether can’t stand it. “We’re not done yet. After Lady Ganyu took me to Jueyun Karst and I was healed… well, the story is a long one, but what matters now is that Rex Lapis agreed to a favor when I asked for help finding Chongyun.”

“From Rex Lapis—” Xingqiu chokes out, and Xu makes another wheezing sound. “My liege, Rex Lapis granted you a favor, and you used it for this?”

Aether frowns at him. “If Chongyun is really in danger, then I don’t see any better use for the favor than to save a life.” …It might be safer to leave out the fact that if Aether were to ask, Zhongli would probably give him as many favors as he wanted.

“Then I owe you an even greater debt, my liege,” Xingqiu breathes, bowing low. “Though there is nothing I could ever give to equal the value of a favor from our Archon.”

“Please don’t worry about that, Xingqiu,” Aether insists. “You have already done so much to take care of me over the years, there is nothing to repay. And before any of that, we need to find Chongyun.”

“Right,” Xingqiu murmurs, almost too quiet to hear. “Yes. What does Rex Lapis need us to do?”

“He will need something that resonates with Chongyun’s aura, something Chongyun treasured or used often. Do you have anything like that?”

To Aether’s surprise, Xingqiu hesitates. “…Perhaps. We are close, but Chongyun rarely spent time at the Liang estate. Truthfully, we met at your home more often than anywhere else. But I will look.”

He picks up his bag and turns. “Xu, would you please arrange a rickshaw to take us home? I will handle things from there.”

Apparently recovered from his earlier shocks, Xu inclines his head. “Right away, master.”

--

Inside the Liang family estate, Xingqiu heads straight for his room and proceeds to turn it inside out in the search for anything that might carry Chongyun’s aura.

Books and brushes scatter across the floor, drawers hang open, their contents piled in careless heaps, trinkets and ornaments are inspected and discarded. And at the end of it all, Xingqiu emerges with only two objects in hand: a book, and the amber tassel from his own belt.

“We just never spent enough time here,” he says, a frown creasing his delicate features. “Chongyun read this book, but only because it contained a chapter on theoretical exorcisms, and the tassel… we exchanged these as a sign of our friendship, but if he treasures either of them, I imagine it would be the one I gave him.”

It’s… not much to go on, but Aether more than trusts Xingqiu’s judgement when it comes to things that Chongyun would find important. “Bring them anyway. The more options we have, the better,” he decides. “Is there anywhere else we could find some of Chongyun’s things?”

Xingqiu lifts a brow. “The Liu clan estate, of course, but they have already turned me away once. I don’t expect they’ll take kindly to my trying again.”

More traveling. But no, this is for Chongyun’s sake, and if Aether has to draw on the power of Xiao’s Heart a little more than expected to stave off exhaustion, so be it.

“I… might be able to help with that.” If Ganyu is already looking into the Liu clan from her position as the Qixing’s secretary and Zhongli is still close by… hesitantly, Aether closes his eyes and casts out a prayer.

Rex Lapis… or Zhongli? If you can hear me, I’m not in danger, but I could use your help if you’re willing.

There’s no immediate response, of course, but Aether hadn’t really been expecting one. In his mortal disguise, it’s not as if Zhongli will be able to send a flashy message or simply warp into the room.

A knock sounds at the door, and Xingqiu opens it to reveal one of the housekeepers Aether had seen on the way in.

“A Mister Zhongli of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor has come to see you, young master.”

…Or maybe he can. Who knows how the gods of this world function?

“Thank you, Miss Ji. We will meet him outside.”

They walk down the hall together, Xingqiu muttering as he goes. “Zhongli… he has an excellent reputation, but I have never met him before, and our family doesn’t work particularly closely with the funeral parlor. What could he possibly need with me at a time like this?”

If only Aether could explain, but the truth is far from his secret to share.

“Actually, he’s an… acquaintance of mine, and I sent him a message earlier to request his help,” Aether says instead. “Between his ties to both the funeral parlor and the Qixing, I hoped he would have enough influence to get us into the Liu estate. And if not, we have a friend in the Yuehai Pavilion who can make our business official.”

Xingqiu stops to stare at him for a moment. “…You are a very interesting person, my liege. With your appearance and humility— no, it is my mistake for forgetting you have been in Liyue longer than my entire family has existed. It is only natural that you would have so many powerful connections.”

Aether laughs a little. “Truthfully, sometimes I forget as well.” And other times, the centuries weigh so heavily upon him that he can barely breathe.

The find Zhongli politely waiting out in the well-shaded courtyard, and he and Xingqiu have to perform the usual first-time greeting formalities before they can move on to the real purpose of the visit. At least the air in here is cool. If they were standing out in the sun-baked streets of Liyue… well, it would probably be fine, but Aether is hardly looking forward to enduring the heat when he’s already this tired. He plucks lightly at the thread the ties him to Xiao and finds it thinned with distance, drained of the usual energy that cycles between them.

“I hear you are in need of some assistance?” Zhongli asks, and Aether focuses again.

“Indeed.” Xingqiu nods. “We are searching for an object that could be used to track down my missing friend, but the best place to find something like that will be the Liu clan estate, where I have never been welcome.”

“The Liu clan… yes, I can help you with that. Director Hu had already arranged for a meeting with them, so moving up the date a few days will be no trouble.”

“Thank you, Mister Zhongli,” Xingqiu breathes. “I will find a way to repay your help as soon as Chongyun is found.”

“You are a true citizen of the city of contracts, I see,” Zhongli says with a smile. “But there is no need to rush, your friend’s safety is more important than any compensation for me.”

The distance between the Liang and Liu estates is short enough that Xingqiu decides they should walk instead of calling another ride— and that would be perfectly fine, if only Aether wasn’t already feeling the strain of exhaustion from his distance from Xiao, as well as from the Liyuean heat and his earlier travels around the city.

The sun is scorching overhead, but Zhongli and Xingqiu are still moving fast enough that Aether is almost tripping over his own feet trying to keep up. How can he be this tired when just this morning he’d felt almost returned to his usual strength?

In the end, all he can do is grit his teeth and pull a little harder on the power of Xiao’s Heart. They’ve already lost enough time to conflicting plans and politics and useless formalities. They can’t afford to have Aether slowing them down too.

He manages to make it all the way to the Liu clan estate, stepping through the entrance on Xingqiu’s heels, where they are met by an irritable woman in an exorcist’s uniform.

“Mister Zhongli. And… guests.” Her lips curls a little. “How may the Liu clan be of service to you today?”

“My apologies for the intrusion, Madam Daiyu,” Zhongli says smoothly. “We are here on the trail of an investigation regarding several reports of a missing exorcist from your clan, and would therefore like to request admittance to the boy’s rooms. However small the chance might be, we cannot risk overlooking any clues as to his disappearance.”

The woman tsks. “Is there no end to the troubles that boy brings down over our family?”

And Aether hates, hates the disgust written blatantly over her face; can feel Xingqiu practically vibrating beside him at her words.

“Very well, Mister Zhongli, as long as you keep this visit brief. My time is short.”

“Thank you, Madam Daiyu,” Zhongli says, cold, but with far more grace than Aether probably could have managed, and they are all waved inside.

The Liu estate is huge, and Aether finds himself growing dizzy just from the meandering walk from gate to living quarters. He tugs at Xiao’s Heart again, but though it hasn’t weakened any, he only receives a trickle of energy in response. It seems there’s a limit to how much he can rely on Xiao after all. Could this be the bond strain Ganyu had described earlier? …But no, there’s nothing wrong with the bond, nothing pulling Aether toward the mountains where Xiao is. He’s just… tired.

Inside the next building, Aether lags behind Zhongli and Xingqiu as they make their way down a well-lit hall, one lined intermittently by doors, expensive art, and complicated talismans. It’s a bit like Zhongli’s palace, only with more exorcism motifs and less refined taste, Aether thinks distantly.

They push through a door and make a turn. The art displays grow fewer and fewer the longer they walk, and without windows, the only light comes from sconces of cold spirit flame set into the wall. Aether isn’t hot anymore, but the change only wracks his body with uncontrollable shivers. It’s just as bad.

They walk a little farther, then stop abruptly.

“This can’t be right,” Xingqiu says, and Aether looks up.

The door is like all the others in this hall— dark, blank, impersonal. The air around it tastes like fear.

They push open the door. Step inside. There’s a bed in the corner, a rack of dull weapons, a mostly empty shelf, a table scattered with daily necessities— and very little else. So this is Chongyun’s room. Aether’s heart aches with the knowledge that Chongyun’s relationship with his family is everything he had so desperately hoped it wasn’t.

A growl rises from Zhongli’s throat, a sound far more beast than human, but Xingqiu doesn’t seem to notice as he circles around the room, his pale face rapidly shifting from horror to rage.

“There is nothing for us here. Even if your friend had poured himself into any of these objects, they are all too smothered by fear and hate to be of use,” Zhongli says, and though that isn’t something a normal mortal should know, Xingqiu doesn’t question it. Perhaps because it seems obvious enough even to the naked eye.

“Chongyun,” Xingqiu whispers, hopeless and hurting and searching.

They leave then, and the need to escape that terrible place keeps Aether on his feet all the way back out to the mansion gates and into the sunlight. What are they going to do now? There are the things Xingqiu had brought from his own home, of course, but they are unlikely to be useful, and Zhongli won’t be able to track Chongyun by his aura if he has no way of telling that aura apart from the thousands of others in Liyue.

Right on cue, Xingqiu speaks up. “I have a few other things that Rex Lapis may be able to use, but—”

“May I see them?” Zhongli asks gently, and Xingqiu brings out the book and the tassel.

Geo power sparkles momentarily at Zhongli’s fingertips, for show or not, Aether isn’t sure, but when the glow dies out, he only shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, Xingqiu, but the book is empty, and energy of the tassel seems to match your own.”

Xingqiu bends his head. “I expected that, but even so…” After a moment of silence, he suddenly turns to Aether, his back straight and his jaw set. “My liege, would you allow us to visit your home next? If there’s any chance Chongyun left something of his there— my liege?”

“Aether?” Comes Zhongli’s rumbling voice. “Are you alright?”

Aether sways on his feet, and though he can understand everything they’re saying, his mouth feels as if it has been packed with chalk when he tries to speak. This… this doesn’t make sense anymore. He’s on the verge of collapse, weak and helpless as he’d been in the days before reuniting with Xiao. But hadn’t taking on Xiao’s Heart healed him of most of that damage?

Strong hands grasp at his shoulders to hold him upright, and Aether manages to tip his head up to meet Zhongli’s anxious gaze.

“I see. Without Xiao’s presence to continually renew your body…” He murmurs. “I’m sorry, Aether. It is my fault for failing to notice your condition sooner.”

“Mister Zhongli? Do you know what’s wrong with him?” Xingqiu asks, his voice tremblingly calm.

“Well enough. For now, I suggest you return to your home and rest for a while, and I will take Aether to a place where he can recover.”

“Return home? But Chongyun is still—”

“I can see you are tired as well,” Zhongli interrupts. “And some time to rest and think might allow you to find new angles for our search. Please do not worry, I will rejoin you as soon as Aether is safe.”

Xingqiu sucks in an audible breath, and for a moment there is tense silence. “Alright. I understand. Please take good care of him.”

“I will do my utmost.” Zhongli bends his head, and distantly, Aether wonders how Xingqiu would react if he knew the man he’d just argued with was actually the Geo Archon himself.

And then Zhongli is picking him up, an arm hooking beneath Aether’s legs as he holds him close to his chest. The metal clasps and pins of Zhongli’s suit dig into his skin.

“Don’t worry,” Zhongli murmurs, almost too quiet to hear. “You will have Xiao back soon.”

Thank the stars.

Notes:

Har gao are steamed shrimp dumplings.
Baozi are large meat buns (they're called something else where I live, so I had to google this one lol).

Visit me on tumblr!

Chapter 25: My Blood, Your Love (Saving You)

Notes:

I WATCHED MOONCHASE XIAO APPEAR WHEN AETHER CALLED AND NOT A SECOND SOONER AND THIS CHAPTER SPONTANEOUSLY GENERATED UNDER MY FINGERS. EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO THE SHIPPERS AT MIHOYO FOR GIVING US WHIPPED XIAO, BICKERING MARRIED COUPLE BEIGGUANG, AND "I'LL READ THIS ROMANCE NOVEL TO YOU" XINGYUN.

TW: Some blood and battle violence, signs of physical abuse.
(5/31/23: Yaksha names updated according to 2.7 reveal)

The unease begins just after Aether and Lord Rex disappear from sight behind the city walls. There is no reason for it— Aether is uninjured, and safe with an Archon by his side, and the bond that stretches between them is vibrant and calm. Even when Aether’s aura grows faint with distance, there are no signs of distress.

But Xiao is left restless all the same.

He waits among the rocky hills and sheltered fields around Mount Tianheng, unable to stay in any one place for long when spots of dark energy he is forbidden from destroying flicker at the edges of his senses. How long will it be before his strength is fully restored and he is able to return to his duties? Lord Rex may consider the contract fulfilled, but Xiao cannot be satisfied until his great debt to the Archon is repaid; until the land is so purged of darkness that the work of the yaksha fades to little more than a memory.

The sun climbs high in the sky, growing hotter and hotter, and with it comes a strange heaviness in his limbs. The weight does not impede him, nor does it cloud his mind the way absolute exhaustion would after a battle… but it is enough to make him slow. Now on full alert, Xiao calls his spear to hand— he may be unable to use his powers, but he does not need them to fight— and waits in the shadow of a nearby cliff. The birds chatter overhead, and a breeze whispers over his skin. Nothing comes.

Could he simply be… tired? But Xiao has never felt this sort of nameless lethargy before, and the way it drifts through his body is far too distant to be dragging him toward unconsciousness.

Cautiously, he draws upon his powers, intending only to confirm that he can— and finds them faded and weak, far from the strength he had felt at Aether’s side. If Xiao has suddenly regressed in the recovery of his powers… then is this distant exhaustion born of the regression of Aether’s body?

Aether. Darting to his feet, Xiao redoubles his scan of the city below. He finds Aether’s aura moving near the northern wall, with Lord Rex’s beacon of power beside. For Aether to be so drained, so miserable, and yet still be on his feet— what is happening? Why has Lord Rex not brought him to a place where he may rest?

Xiao ascends a short ledge to stare out over the brilliant colors of the harbor, where the auras and dreams of mortals radiate from every street and building— a thousand lives Xiao could erase in mere moments. Through the crowded haze, Xiao again searches for Aether and Lord Rex’s auras, finds them stopped in a decorative garden so large that Xiao can see it even from his distant perch.

Aether is near collapse, Xiao can feel it, and for him to be in such a state only days after his brush with death, no matter that he had seemed to be recovering—

Now. He needs to be with Aether now.

Aether and Lord Rex move again, and Xiao tracks them with unwavering attention. They walk among a cluster of tall buildings, Lord Rex’s power flares bright—

And then the earth rumbles as he appears in the field before Xiao, Aether’s limp body held firmly in his arms.

“Aether,” Xiao rasps out. He steps forward, ready to beg Lord Rex to be allowed even just a moment to touch Aether and restart the cycling of their energies. But before he can say a word, Lord Rex is gently lowering Aether into Xiao’s grasp, then brushing a thumb over Xiao’s forehead in a pulse of steadying geo as he pulls away.

Xiao barely feels it, lost as he is in the song of the bond and the fire of Aether’s skin. The weariness is fading, satisfied now that Aether is curled up in Xiao’s arms; but it is not enough, not when Aether’s labored breaths still echo in the quiet and their connection is still heavy with exhaustion. Xiao holds him tighter. How can he heal Aether when there is no wound to heal?

“I made a promise to return to the city and continue the search for Aether’s lost friend,” Lord Rex murmurs. “Is there anything I can provide for you before I leave Aether in your care?”

“No, Lord Rex,” Xiao whispers. The name is still strange on his tongue, but no fear rises to choke him as he says it. Lord Rex had shown Xiao his Heart, purity and darkness alike, and how could Xiao be afraid after seeing such final proof of Lord Rex’s affection for him and Aether?

Lord Rex smiles at that, a gentle, melancholy thing. “I will return soon, then.”

And he disappears in a blur of gold.

Xiao turns his attention back to Aether, carrying him over to a nearby tree and sitting carefully down at the base to settle Aether in his lap. With Aether’s head resting against his shoulder, Xiao can see the pale feathering of his lashes, the way his eyes squeeze shut against the failing of his own body, the dry, heat-flushed skin of his cheeks.

There are ways for bonded adepti to restore each other’s strength, Xiao knows, but he had never bothered to study other adepti who shared connections, nor had he formed any of his own. The only memories he has to rely on are those of the yaksha, when Bonanus had been the one to purify Bosacius’s Heart. They had not shared a true bond, of course, only an intermittent exchange of power, but they had still taken care of each other. And as long as Xiao can help Aether, that is all he needs.

Slowly, uncertainly, he bends his forehead to meet Aether’s, careful of his horns, and the touch of their skin sends a wash of clean fire through his body. Aether shivers against him, and it is enough for Xiao to know that his decision was correct.

How can he give Aether more?

Carefully, Xiao tugs the collar of his robes open until it falls down around his shoulders, and gently moves Aether’s head until his cheek presses against Xiao’s bared chest. He can feel his own breath tremble in his lungs as Aether’s weary aura flows over him, liquid and sweet. Touching Aether always makes him drown, too much and not enough at the same time.

Gently, he probes through the sound and scent and feel of Aether’s body, searching for the source of Aether’s unexpected collapse. His Heart is there, of course, humming with the power of his energy turned to Aether’s, and he can feel Aether’s pulse fluttering, fragile but steady under his fingertips. Aether’s body is damaged, as if it had rapidly undone most of the healing of the past few days, and though he has not returned to his starved appearance…

So it is much the same for Aether as it is for Xiao, then, this constant exchange of energy to hold together failing bodies until they may stand on their own. If Aether is the vessel for Xiao’s Heart, then Xiao’s strength maintains that vessel, and the cycle of energy between them is so powerful that they could perhaps forget their weaknesses as long as they were together. But once Aether was forced to part from him—

Yes. That is the reason, and now it is Xiao’s responsibility to restore Aether, and by extension, his own Heart. How ironic.

Aether stirs, and Xiao focuses once more.

“Aether?”

“Mm…” Aether’s lashes flutter against Xiao’s skin. “Xiao? You— you’re here.”

“Yes.”

A heavy blink. “…Oh.” Aether’s fingers sweep over Xiao’s sternum in tingling lines, then press against his own chest. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He looks up. “What happened?”

Xiao frowns. “Your body used up its reserves of energy while we were apart, and you returned to the state you should have been in if not for my powers restoring you. Lord Rex brought you back to me to heal.”

“…That does explain it,” Aether sighs. “So it wasn’t bond strain after all.”

“No. But it will still be necessary to stay closer to each other from now on.”

“Hmm.”

What little Xiao can sense of Aether’s emotions seems placid and content, so he forces down the old fear of keeping Aether trapped at his side. After a moment, Aether begins to nose over Xiao’s exposed skin, where the rough gouges and stains of his scars are now unmistakable in the afternoon light. They are ugly marks— but Aether moves from one to the next, endlessly gentle, never wavering.

A sun lights in Xiao’s chest, his Heart sings with every touch, and he burns as power swells like the tide between them. Breathless, Xiao makes a faint, shameful noise when Aether’s lips meet the hollow of his collarbone, and suddenly Aether's arms are encircling the back of his neck and bringing them face to face, their noses brushing.

“Is this okay?” Aether whispers.

Xiao meets his brilliant gaze, dizzy with the flood of sensation and myriad of touches. “Hurts,” he manages to rasp, because it does, but it also feels good, so good, and he does not understand how.

The moment the word leaves Xiao’s mouth, Aether’s arms fall away and he slips from Xiao’s lap, kneeling in the grass beside Xiao to pull his robes back up to the proper position at his neck.

“I’m sorry. I should have— I’ll give you some space.”

Xiao does not want Aether to leave, but even if his body was not frozen, what could he do to stop him? Perhaps if Xiao asked, but— all he can think to ask is “more,” and he can hardly expect Aether to interpret such a vague, useless request.

At his side, Aether leans back against the tree, close enough to keep the bond thrumming, but far enough that Xiao is left cold in his absence. He turns to look at Aether, an apology ready on his tongue, and—

When their eyes meet, Aether tilts his head, giving Xiao an anxious, tentative smile, and that— that is something Xiao cannot allow. Blind instinct drives him to slip his hand into Aether’s, and he breathes through the tingling rush that follows. In such a small amount as this, the heat beneath his skin nothing more than a pleasant flush.

What else can Xiao do to prove to Aether that he is still wanted, in a way that Aether will not immediately reject?

Xiao takes a short breath in; exhales long and slow. The currents of his returning power stir, rising to his command, but he tempers them to the gentle breeze Lord Rex had shown him, the one that heals instead of harms. It is taxing to thin so much strength to a trickle, but Xiao’s long-honed control is too fine to let such an important thing slip. And at these levels, Lord Rex had deemed it safe for Xiao to use his powers.

Carefully, Xiao allows the healing stream to flow into Aether’s body. There is nothing to heal beyond the lingering ache over the bond, but all Xiao truly needs is to prove to Aether that he is trying, that he will pour into their connection everything he knows how.

Aether gasps, and his hand clenches tighter around Xiao’s fingers. Then, after a moment, his head droops, his breaths grow deep, and he slumps to rest against Xiao’s shoulder. “Feels good, Xiao,” he mumbles. “Did you learn that this morning?”

Something humming and bright bursts to overflowing in Xiao’s chest, and it takes him some time to make his throat work around an answer. “Yes. Lord Rex taught me.”

“You learn fast.” Aether’s eyes are closed, but a smile rests easy on his face.

Warm air swirls around them as they sit, comfortable in the filtered shade of the tree. The touch of Aether’s leaden exhaustion all but vanishes, and Xiao settles himself into siphoning the trickle of power for Aether, a simple, almost meditative task that calms the chasing of his thoughts.

Peace has never belonged to Xiao, but he cannot help but wonder if this is what it could be.

And then—

His Heart shivers. Turns. Opens.

Xiao and Aether jolt up in the same motion, Aether’s hands leaping to his own chest as Xiao expands his senses over the land, farther and farther—

“What was that?” Aether whispers, and Xiao does not have time to look at him as he answers.

“An offering.”

There. Somewhere in the distant hills between Dunyu Ruins and Cuijue Slope rises a cry, a plea, a prayer. Xiao’s name is known, but feared, and mortals have always fled from his presence. Who is it that dares to call upon the guardian yaksha now?

“An offering like the one I gave to you?” Aether asks slowly.

Xiao nods.

“Is there a way— no, can you tell who is making it?”

“It is… simple,” Xiao tastes the shimmering threads of the prayer. “They are afraid, yet they call to me as one would to a distant friend, not a yaksha. They have not invoked my name directly.”

“That—” Aether’s voice trembles. “It could be nothing, but it’s still possible— that might be Chongyun.”

“…Your lost friend?”

“Yes. If we ask Zhongli to take us there now—”

Again, Xiao’s Heart throbs with the cry of offering, but now it is sharper, more desperate. Hopeless.

“There is no time,” Xiao bites out as the innocent plea of his new worshipper grates against his soul. And before he can consider anything, before he can measure the cost of warping two beings instead of one, Xiao grabs Aether’s hand again and pulls them both into the shadows.

It is agony.

Xiao collapses into the dim sunlight of the Cuijue hills, and Lord Rex’s warnings to him and Aether become all too clear. He has delayed his recovery, but as long as he can answer the call of the one who has made an offering to him, Xiao will not hesitate to pay the price for his choice.

“Xiao!” Aether cries, and in the next moment, the foul, creeping stench of miasma meets Xiao’s senses.

Shades? And for so many to have gathered in one place—

Xiao wrenches his eyes open, but his body is still weak and trembling, too drained to properly move. Before him stands Aether, his back to Xiao and his legs bent in a warrior’s stance. Beyond that crowd dozens of shades, and in their midst is the crumpled form of a boy, his body curled around a small pile of stones. Curled around an altar.

His worshipper is in danger, there has formed a pustule of darkness on the land that must be cleansed, and Aether is left vulnerable and still healing— but Xiao cannot move.

A terrible shriek rises as the shades begin to notice their presence, and one by one, they turn from the fallen mortal to lunge at Aether.

“I won’t let you touch him,” Aether hisses as Xiao strains against the shackles of his own body. “Won’t let you touch either of them.”

And in a single motion, Aether pulls his jade sword from the air and strikes. The first shade explodes into ash, caught mid-leap by the arc of Aether’s blade, but without the proper cleansing power, it is nothing more than a temporary victory. Indeed, that the darkness had been scattered at all is only due the blessing imbued within the sword itself.

Xiao must get up, must purge the spirits of evil so Aether can have any chance at all of winning this battle. He must get up.

A wide spin, a shining flick of the blade, a string of parries as swift as lighting—Aether’s sword skills are a dance, beautiful as a night widow lily and just as deadly. If only a single mistake did not mean the end for all three of them.

More ash swirls through the air as Aether cuts down another shade, and now only a scrambling handful remain— but Xiao can see Aether’s chest heaving, see the way blood drips from slashes on his face and soaks into the fabric of his robe. Already, the first shade is coalescing once more.

Like this— Aether will die. Bosacius’s broken form flickers in Xiao’s memories, and he digs his claws into the ground to pull himself forward in whatever way he can. He only needs to reach the center of the battlefield.

He only needs—

“By the light of dawn!” A thin voice calls, and with the snap of a paper talisman, the glowing weave of a spell blazes in the air, the most powerful one Xiao has ever seen from an exorcist.

Ash and miasma are blasted back, and the final shades scream in the light as Aether strikes them down.

The world stills. The darkness sinks back into the earth, cleansed as it should be. And Xiao stares up at the trembling boy who had cast the exorcism.

His snow-pale hair is dusted with ash and his white robes are equally smudged. At his side lies the shattered remains of a claymore, and when Aether falls to his knees in the dirt, the boy strains toward him, held back only by the chain Xiao can see looped around his ankle.

“Aether!”

“Chongyun,” Aether pants. “I’m alright.”

“No you’re not! Please, you can’t come back and save me just to— just to really die in front of me this time,” the boy— Chongyun— cries.

“I won’t die.” Aether coughs and spits, ash-black, onto the ground. “Just… give me a moment, and I’ll come and free you.”

Xiao can do nothing but watch as Aether slowly wavers to his feet and stumbles over to Chongyun to slam the point of his sword into the chain. The metal snaps with a satisfying clank.

“Did your family do this?” Aether asks quietly, his eyes fixed on the remaining manacle around Chongyun’s leg.

Chongyun looks away and does not speak a word. It is perhaps the most convincing answer he could have given.

“…I see. Then I’m not letting you go back.” Aether says decisively.

“W-what?”

“To your… clan.” Aether nearly spits the word. “You’ve suffered at their hands for long enough. I’ll take care of you instead, for as long as you need.”

“But you’re still—!”

“I’m safe and healing. And after Zh— Rex Lapis saw the way your family treated you at the estate, I doubt he would object to my taking you in.”

Chongyun’s eyes are huge. “Rex Lapis? How does he know about…”

“Because I asked him to help search for you,” Aether says simply. Then he turns, a crease forming between his brows. “Xiao, is your body alright? I can feel how much that jump drained you, but—”

Shameful. Xiao is meant to be a guardian, a soldier, and yet he had been the one to lie useless while others fought. “I will live. It will simply be some time before I can regain my strength.”

Aether moves to his side, gathering Xiao’s weak body into his arms. Gentle heat simmers through him, soothing the hurt that still lingers from his careless shadow walk. Moving his hand to Aether’s, Xiao attempts to channel a fresh stream of healing power into Aether’s wounds, but—

A sharp tap lands on his hand, and when Xiao looks up, Aether is shaking his head, a gently reprimanding expression on his face. “You don’t need to do that, Xiao. I’ll be fine, so you should save your strength for yourself.”

Timid steps pad toward them, and Xiao tips his head up to look at Chongyun.

“Vigilant Yaksha?” The boy whispers.

What must the human think of him now, seeing him so crumpled and weakened as this? Xiao studies him. “You were the one to call me. Did you not understand to whom you were praying?”

“I… I was desperate. When I made that altar, I was only thinking of the one Aether kept at his home for his friend…”

How much faith must this human have, to make such a nebulous plea and still call the correct divine to his aid? “I see.”

Chongyun shrinks back, and one of Aether’s hands snaps out to catch his arm. “It’s alright. Xiao isn’t angry; he’s just… in pain.”

A mute nod, pale hair falling over pale eyes.

“How— Aether, is the Vigilant Yaksha your ‘old friend’?”

“He is,” Aether says softly, and his fingers lift to stroke through Xiao’s long hair. “I never thought I’d see him again, but in the end, he was the one to heal me.”

“Oh.” A long pause, then Chongyun speaks again, his voice wavering and thin. “I’m really glad you’re alright, Aether.”

“Me too,” Aether says with a hint of laugh. “And I’m glad we made it to you in time. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“One of those demons scratched my leg, and I twisted my ankle trying to dodge them. But please don’t worry about me! You’re the one who’s really injured.”

“Mm. A little,” Aether says, and Xiao growls low in his throat. Aether’s wounds are more than deep enough to kill.

“Ah— I’m sorry, Xiao. I’ll take care of myself as soon as we leave this place, I promise.”

“If you and the Vigilant Yaksha are hurt…” Chongyun begins. “Is there any way we can leave?”

“There is.” Aether closes his eyes, and Xiao feels the call for Lord Rex resound through the celestial plane.

Between one blink and the next, Lord Rex steps from the air before them, a golden glow still trailing from the horns and tail of his halfway form. His eyes flick across the scene— at Xiao fallen in Aether’s arms, at Aether’s bloodstained body, at Chongyun standing motionless, at the broken chain and small altar and slowly dissipating miasma.

He steps forward.

“You must be Chongyun.” His voice is gentle. “I am glad to see you alive and well. Your friend in back in the harbor has been rather worried for you.”

A strangled sound comes from Chongyun’s throat, and his face begins to burn red even as his breaths turn misty in the air. His Vision is blazing… is he attempting to freeze himself? What Xiao can sense of his aura is certainly strange.

Lord Rex moves to Aether’s side, taking to one knee beside him and slowly laying a hand over a seeping gash in his arm. “Tell me what happened, Aether.”

Aether nods. “Using his knowledge of the altars I built for Xiao when I lived in the harbor, Chongyun made an offering to Xiao as he was being cornered by a number of…” Aether glances down at Xiao. “Evil spirits?”

A general term, but it will do for the explanation.

“He was desperate enough that we chose to warp directly to him instead of waiting for you, and Xiao collapsed as soon as we arrived. I was left to fight back the evil spirits on my own.” Aether bows awkwardly around Xiao. “The sword you gifted me saved us all. Thank you, Zhongli.”

“I am relieved to hear it could protect you,” Lord Rex says, a frown on his face.

“After that, Chongyun used a spell of some kind to exorcise what was left of the spirits, and I cut the chain to free him.”

“I understand. Thank you.” And a wash of pure geo fills the air as Lord Rex stitches Aether’s wounds shut and stabilizes the rhythms of his weakening body.

Aether exhales a shuddering breath, and distantly, Xiao can feel his pain evaporating away. Cautiously, it seems, Aether climbs to his feet, and Xiao stands with him, leaning heavily into Aether’s supporting arm. “Ah, Zhongli, if you’re willing… Chongyun is injured as well.”

“No!” Chongyun yelps immediately. “Thank you, um, Rex Lapis, but you don’t have to—”

“Peace,” Lord Rex murmurs, a word of power, and Chongyun falls still. “May I?”

At the boy’s stiff nod, Lord Rex places a single finger at his brow, but even as geo power begins to hum over Xiao’s senses, Lord Rex pauses.

“What is this?” He asks, his voice low and perfectly even.

His hands drop to Chongyun’s close-clinging sleeves and slowly push them up to reveal a patchwork of small cuts and angry bruises, then move to brush over spots on Chongyun’s side, hip, and back in turn. Ghostly memories of pain sing through Xiao’s blood at the sight. After all, those are not marks of battle, but of relentless, meaningless punishment.

“These are from— training,” Chongyun says unevenly. “Working as an exorcist isn’t easy, and I have always been weaker than the others, so—"

“There is no need to lie to me,” Lord Rex says firmly. “Nor is there any need for you to defend the clan that inflicted such injuries upon you.”

And with that, he returns his touch to Chongyun’s forehead and heals him in a moment, bright power soothing away the splashes of bruises and blood. Something eases in Xiao’s chest as he watches the skin of Chongyun’s arms return to pale and untouched.

“Oh…” Chongyun’s voice is small in the sudden quiet. “Thank you.”

Lord Rex watches the boy for a while, as if intending to say something more, but in the end, he merely nods and steps back.

“Zhongli, there was— one more thing I wanted to ask you,” Aether says haltingly. “I… can’t let Chongyun go back to his clan, so if you were amenable, I had planned to bring him back with us. But I can arrange a safe place for him to stay in the city if—”

“Excellent,” Lord Rex interrupts. “I was prepared to do much the same. The palace has more than enough space to house him.”

A relieved smile crosses Aether’s face as he bows, then promptly turns to Chongyun. “What do you think? Would you prefer to stay in Jueyun Karst for a while, or return to Liyue Harbor?”

“I…” Chongyun looks up, his body shivering but his gaze suddenly resolute. “I need to make sure Xingqiu knows I’m alright, but I don’t want to back to the harbor.”

“Done,” Lord Rex says, and in a moment, he shifts to his full dragon form. “For now, let us return to the palace and rest. I will arrange for a message to be sent to your friend, and all other matters can be dealt with at our leisure.” Crouching low to the ground, he sweeps his tail. “Come. I will carry you home.”

Notes:

ahhhh i'm so tired nowww

Chapter 26: Heart of Light

Notes:

Hello again!
To everyone who didn't see my notice on tumblr (which is probably most of you), I had to take a week hiatus for busyness and writer's block reasons, and unfortunately, i will probably have to do it again for a week after this. I'll post again on tumblr if I don't have a chapter ready by like... Thursday.

ALSO GUYS I GOT A CUSTOM PLAYLIST FOR THIS STORY FROM THE AMAZING dumb_boy_writings WHICH I WILL LINK AS SOON AS I HAVE MORE TIME.

TW: Chongyun's suffering, implied abuse.

When they arrive at the mist-shrouded palace, Xiao is still too weak to properly walk, so Aether once again helps him move, his gait even as he bears Xiao’s weight alongside his own. Perhaps Xiao would have been more intent upon refusing such treatment, but the world is spinning hazily around him as his strength wanes, and Aether’s arm is warm and healing around him. More than that, he can be certain that Lord Rex will not regard him as useless for this lapse, and Xiao cares little for whatever Chongyun might think of him.

The four of them part ways in the hall, Lord Rex guiding Chongyun away to a different wing of the palace as Aether and Xiao return to their room. Once the door closes behind them, Xiao does not resist as Aether strips the outer layer of his robes, sweeps the tangle of his hair to the side, then lays him down flat over the sheets of the bed.

“I’m going to help Zhongli get Chongyun settled,” he says quietly, fingers momentarily brushing over Xiao’s cheek. “But I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

Xiao manages a nod, and Aether darts out.

Immediately, Xiao feels the distance— nothing like the absolute exhaustion of earlier, of course, but it is as if the damage both he and Aether had sustained afterward has drawn their bodies together, attempting to keep them close so they may heal. He closes his eyes and endures.

Thoughts, unbidden and disordered, bubble up as he lies in the stillness.

He wants to spar with Aether— he had been given a taste of Aether’s beauty when Lord Rex had first given him the sword, but seeing Aether truly fight… it makes some part of his war-forged Heart sing. Yes. He wants to dance, to feel the slip and strike of his spear against Aether’s sword— two blades made to harmonize as one, just like their wielders— wants to breathe the heat of Aether’s breath in battle, to trust the back against his.

How long has it been since he last fought with a partner? Perhaps since the other yaksha fell, since Xiao’s corruption became strong enough to taint those around him, since he barely dared to venture near Liyue Harbor for fear of losing time and destroying those within.

But the boy today had been different.

Xiao stirs. Somehow… perhaps it was simply because he had been focused upon his own weakness, but not once had Chongyun’s fragility made itself known to him. With such soft features and a slight frame, the human could have easily been cut down, and yet…

His aura is reminiscent of Aether’s, Xiao realizes. Full of a quiet, hidden strength that shines like a beacon even beneath delicate appearances. Why? Aether is immortal, but there is no mistaking that Chongyun is purely human. What makes the boy so special?

Xiao’s memory is blurred by pain, but the power of Chongyun’s exorcism and the unusual purity woven through his aura still stand out brilliantly. Aether had said Chongyun was an exorcist, but— though he might be nothing more than a spark of power next to an adeptus’s raging wildfire, his strength still far surpasses that of any other exorcist Xiao has seen patrolling the fields of Liyue. He will have to carefully study Chongyun at the next opportunity.

Where is Aether?

Xiao tries to extend his senses, but is struck by the recoil of his worn core, a flat refusal to strain his powers any further. For him to be so weak— but no, Aether is strong, and so is Lord Rex, and Chongyun (does he already trust the boy?), so Xiao must be safe. He dares not lose himself to sleep again, but he is safe.

He waits.

Soon, the door creaks and slams, and after a few moments of rustling, a weight sinks onto the bed beside him. Aether is here, but Xiao is too weary to reach for him, even now, so he simply waits for Aether’s warmth and touch to draw closer.

“Goodnight, Xiao,” Aether whispers, light and gentle, and Xiao willingly falls into the sound. And then—

Tentative hands wrap around Xiao’s arm, a layer of fabric blocking their skin from meeting— but that matters little when a lonely sort of hunger swirls across the bond to spark need beneath Xiao’s skin. Aether tucks his body into Xiao’s side, curled up like a child, but Xiao can think of nothing beyond a clawing desire to protect.

Never before has the feeling claimed such a hold over him, and Xiao half opens his eyes, dizzy with the sensation.

Soon. Soon, he must learn how to accept all of Aether’s touch, for both their sakes. He cannot allow Aether to suffer for his failings any longer.

--

The loud calls of morning birds are enough to tell Xiao that the time for rest is over.

He sits up, the ache from his overtaxed powers promptly making itself known— but his mind has cleared, so Xiao carefully, very carefully looses Aether’s grasp from around his arm and pulls up the sheets so Aether is covered again. The soft rise and fall of Aether’s chest and the faint twitching of his eyelids are enough to set instinct flickering to life in Xiao’s chest, and he combs his fingers through the tumbling silk of Aether’s hair. A sleepy sigh escapes Aether’s lips as his head tips further into Xiao’s touch.

Such blind trust… will Xiao ever truly deserve it?

But though old fears scratch through his mind, they do not affect him as they had before, their sharp points dulled and their whispering threats muted. Perhaps it is due Aether’s devotion or Lord Rex’s fulfilled promises— Xiao knows not. What matters is that he can rise from Aether’s side, trusting that they will soon reunite. That he can wander his way to the grand hall, trusting that Lord Rex will welcome him to the table with open arms.

When he arrives— the bond tugging lightly in his chest, a faint reminder that he must not part from Aether for long— he finds the table piled high with a banquet’s-worth of food. Chongyun is sitting hunched near the head of the table while Ganyu and Lord Rex bustle around him, finishing the preparations for the meal.

“Ah, Xiao,” Lord Rex pauses upon seeing him. “You seem well.”

“I am recovered, Lord Rex. Thank you.”

Ganyu halts in place, her eyes wide. “You called him—?”

“There have been many trials, these past few days,” Lord Rex says with a smile. “But they have not been without value.” He inclines his head toward Chongyun as well.

Xiao takes a seat opposite Chongyun, conscious of the way Chongyun has watched him like a hunted rabbit from the moment he entered the room. After so many years of determined, stubborn acceptance from Aether, Ganyu, Lord Rex, and even the other yaksha, Xiao has nearly been able to forget that he is a demonic adeptus long-feared among mortals.

Chongyun, it seems, will be a necessary reminder.

But though Chongyun is wary, watchful, he shows no sign of true hatred; and his gaze, though uneasy, also brims with something reverent. As a mortal among divines, as a worshipper in the presence of his Archon, this is as it should be.

Lord Rex takes his place at the head of the table, Ganyu chooses a seat beside Chongyun, and the meal can at last begin. Without Aether’s sweet scent beside him, the odors of the food twist a little at Xiao’s stomach, but he has endured before, and he will do so again.

“Is Aether still asleep?” Ganyu asks over her bowl of rice and colorful vegetables. Her voice is soft and the question light— a skillful way to cut through the tension Chongyun bleeds into the air.

“Yes. His body is still exhausted from yesterday’s battle, so I did not attempt to wake him.”

“There are no lingering effects from such expenditure of his physical abilities?” Lord Rex asks.

“None that I could sense. He slept undisturbed through the night.”

Lord Rex nods, apparently satisfied. “I will ensure some food is set aside for him later. What of yourself, Xiao? Has your Heart safely stabilized?”

Xiao hesitates. “It seems so, though I remain… weak.”

“That is to be expected,” Lord Rex says, stern, but not cruel. “Your powers and Aether’s body were not meant to endure such use so soon after beginning to heal. Though I am glad you were able to protect Chongyun, please do not attempt any similar feat until you are both restored entirely.”

“That—” Chongyun says suddenly, before his hands clap over his mouth as all attention turns toward him.

“Please, speak,” Lord Rex urges.

“Um.” Chongyun looks up at them from beneath long lashes, his body curled into itself. “About that— I’m sorry. You were both hurt because I couldn’t defend myself, even though I’m supposed to be an exorcist—”

“Against so many shades, it is— admirable that you remained able to cast your exorcism at the time of need,” Xiao interrupts him. He feels… frustrated, perhaps, and his only hint as to why are the memories of Chongyun’s bruised arms that flicker before his eyes.

Chongyun stares at him.

“Indeed,” Lord Rex says, thoughtful. “Your strength is different from any I sensed from the other exorcists at the Liu estate. There were few there, perhaps even none, who could have successfully burned away the essences of every one of those shades. Is it simply because you carry a Vision?”

A door slams shut over Chongyun’s expression. “No. I’m nothing special; my father and brother could have done it far more efficiently without any Vision. Not even an army of demons like that could’ve touched them.”

“Those were not demons,” Xiao corrects. “Only shades.”

Chongyun laughs, a bitter sound. “I might be too useless of an exorcist to have seen the monsters I hunt before, but I think I’d at least know a demon when I’m attacked by one. Or several.”

Disbelief flares as Chongyun speaks the flippant words— so many had fallen to the darkness, god, adeptus, and mortal alike, and yet the boy dares— and fury reaches Xiao’s tongue. “Are you so arrogant as to believe you know more about the evils that walk this land than a yaksha who has fought them for two thousand years? If even one true demon had appeared at that time, our blood would have long been spilled over the earth— already, we are fortunate that Aether was strong enough to protect us all.”

“Xiao,” Lord Rex says loudly, and Xiao immediately falls silent, regret already chasing the flash of anger from his Heart. Chongyun may be misguided, but in the end, he is innocent, bound by faulty mortal knowledge. He does not deserve Xiao’s rage.

“As I understand it,” Ganyu murmurs, “the Liu clan mainly hunts restless spirits, lost jiangshi, and budding curses. They called all such creatures “demons” in their reports to the Qixing, but I had assumed it to be mere boasting, not true belief.”

Trembling, obviously stunned, Chongyun leans back in his seat, as far from Xiao as he can be without actually standing. “Not… not demons? But then—”

“The shades you faced were likely the most dangerous thing anyone in your clan has ever fought,” Ganyu says gently. “Do not misunderstand. You did well.”

“If—if these shades really are deadlier,” Chongyun stumbles over the words. “Then how did I… how could I exorcise them when I’ve never even been able to see a real spirit?”

“Your inherent strength was more than sufficient to purge the shades’ remnants,” Lord Rex rumbles. “But as for your sight…if you wish, we can unweave your aura and perhaps determine the inner workings of your power.”

Turmoil stirs in Chongyun’s expression. “I… I think I want to know. If my father was right—” he shakes his head roughly. “Please, Rex Lapis, I accept your great generosity.”

“Of course.”

Lord Rex rises and makes his way to Chongyun’s side, turning the boy’s chair to face him with a flick of his hand. He reaches for Chongyun’s tense shoulder, and Chongyun jolts back. Panic immediately washes over his pale face.

“I-I’m sorry Rex Lapis. I won’t do that again.”

“Why do you hesitate, Chongyun?” Lord Rex asks, soft and commanding. An Archon’s voice.

“I…” Chongyun’s throat works, and his voice, when it comes, is small. “Will it hurt?”

“Not at all.” A tight edge creeps onto Lord Rex’s face.

Chongyun nods, and when Lord Rex again reaches for his shoulder, his eyes squeeze shut.

Beneath Lord Rex’s touch, Chongyun’s aura spills out like a scroll— colors and patterns suffused in a purity so bright, Xiao knows that if Aether had not cleansed him of his own dark taint, he would be burning under Chongyun’s power. How could a mortal carry such unhindered yang energy without being consumed from the inside out?

A frown settles over Lord Rex’s face as he reaches deeper.

More purifying strength washes over them, deeper and sharper and ever more flawless. It is clear now, why Chongyun has never seen the weak evils his family hunts— such darkness would be unable to so much as stand near the light of his aura. Only the shades were strong enough to overcome it.

For a moment, Xiao looks to Ganyu’s face and finds her just as transfixed as he is. All immortals are stained by the endless stretch of their lives, after all, so to find such innocent, blessed power as Chongyun’s is to be attracted as a moth to a candleflame.

Then the unweaving of Chongyun’s aura comes to a halt, and something— something dark pulses at his core. Xiao leans in as Lord Rex growls low in his chest.

A curse lies nestled against Chongyun’s heart, one so deeply buried that it could not be seen from the surface; one so brimming with hatred and despair that it could rival even that of a shade. It was not cast, that much is clear, and it is unlikely that it was absorbed from another. But if neither is true…

Somehow, this mortal has managed to curse himself.

“Did you find something?” Chongyun’s voice cuts through the frozen disbelief in the air, and Xiao looks up to his fearful, ice-bright eyes.

“A curse has suppressed a great deal of your power,” Lord Rex says, and Xiao watches his hand tighten possessively over Chongyun’s shoulder. “Would you like it removed?”

“A curse?” Chongyun whispers. “But…”

He trails off into silence, haloed by his own rippling aura, a picture only the adepti can see. The boy is beautiful, Xiao notes— strong and gentle and graceful even to his core.

“Yes,” Chongyun says at last. “Yes. Please, Rex Lapis, if you would—”

“I will do it,” Xiao says, surprised by the words spilling from his own mouth. “The curse. I will exorcise it.”

“Xiao?” Lord Rex looks up at him, questioning, but Xiao has no answer. All he can think is— he had blindly hurt Chongyun just the same as the curse, and if he cannot erase his careless words, perhaps he may atone by offering healing for this instead.

Quietly, Lord Rex steps aside and Xiao takes his place, kneeling before Chongyun’s shivering body.

"What dragon lowers his head to a flea?" Saizhen’s voice echoes in Xiao’s ears. “Mortals shall always bow to us."

But Xiao is not Saizhen; has not been for centuries— the assurance rises easily in his own mind. Has Xiao pretended its truth for so long that it has become reality?

So he kneels and presses his hands to the ground, bending his head down until Chongyun is no longer in his sight. Xiao cannot bring himself to say anything, but perhaps… perhaps this will be enough. Chongyun’s sharp gasp, at least, speaks of some understanding.

Then Xiao straightens enough to lift a finger to Chongyun’s chest, the tip of his claw sinking into the fabric there. He closes his powers like a cage around the snarl of the curse, and in this, his body does not fight him— he may yet be weak, but the ability of exorcism is written into his bones.

Heat flashes through the air as Xiao clamps down, and the curse dissipates, screaming, from Chongyun’s heart.

For a moment, there is stillness.

They are thrown back by the blaze of a rising star.

Xiao digs scratches into the polished wood of the floor as he is carelessly tossed away from Chongyun, and he can hear Ganyu’s cry as she is forced from her chair. Hitched, choking breaths reverberate through the air— and Chongyun falls, arms wrapped around his torso as his aura weaves itself back into place. It does nothing to diminish the pure energy that pours from his soul.

It is only moments before Lord Rex’s power sings, pressing down and down over them all, a feather with the weight of stone. Xiao breathes deep as soon as doing so will not freeze his lungs from the inside, and he begins dragging himself back toward Chongyun. Ice starts to crystallize over the floor and walls, patchy at first, then thick and sharp with frost. The power of Chongyun’s Vision flares erratically, too strong for the weak control that tries to bind it, and Xiao can hear pain in Chongyun’s sobs.

Aether’s sudden alarm pulls taut in Xiao’s chest, but he dares not give it his attention now—

He and Ganyu reach Chongyun at the same moment, Lord Rex a solid bastion at their backs, and Xiao reaches for Chongyun’s raging powers as Ganyu pulls Chongyun’s Vision from inside his robes and imposes her peerless mastery of cryo over his.

With the Vision silenced and ice no longer creeping over his skin, Xiao can focus upon channeling the overflow of Chongyun’s strength through his own body and safely dispersing it into the earth. It hurts. He and Chongyun are not compatible, not the way he is with Aether, but neither does Chongyun’s power damage Xiao, so he does not pause.

Slowly, the air stills, then warms; and though Chongyun’s pure aura still rests heavy over the entire palace, and perhaps even farther, it no longer suffocates all those inside. Chongyun’s cries soften to muffled, worn breaths, and Xiao and Ganyu carefully release him.

This mortal has been given the blessings of Celestia— there is no other explanation for such an impossible, overwhelming power. In another time, perhaps, Chongyun might even have competed for a position as Archon, but now he is restrained by the celestial laws that have governed Teyvat since the Archon War’s end. Even so, Xiao can see that the purity and force of his soul will be more than enough to chase back demons, and even deter fallen gods.

Why had Chongyun cursed this part of himself so fervently that it could be hidden even to an Archon’s eye?

“Xiao?! Zhongli?” The doors of the hall burst open, and Aether tumbles in, his robes and hair loose and cascading around him. “What was—” His eyes land upon the form around which they are all clustered.

“Chongyun.”

Aether surges forward, and the adepti close a protective circle around the two humans once Aether has gathered Chongyun into his arms. Instinctively, the meager flutter of Xiao’s power rises to join that of Ganyu and Lord Rex, weaving an adeptal enchantment of protection over them all.

“Aether,” Chongyun rasps, his fingers clutching at Aether’s robes. “’S hot. I can’t—”

“Shh,” Aether whispers, stroking through Chongyun’s sweat-dampened hair. He turns to look at Xiao. “What happened? When I woke up, I felt…”

“He had placed a curse upon himself and buried his own powers,” Xiao says. “I removed it.” He may have exorcised the curse, Xiao realizes, but in doing so, he has only hurt Chongyun again. It would be more than enough reason for Aether to be disappointed in him.

Fearful confusion flits over Aether’s face.

“Chongyun carries within him an overwhelming excess of yang energy,” Lord Rex explains. “Which, when combined with his Vision and the sudden release of his self-imposed binding, caused an explosion of power too great for him to bear.”

Aether nods slowly, then returns his gaze to Chongyun. “Is this what you were so afraid of?” He murmurs.

“Hot, it’s hot,” Chongyun stirs, restless. “Aether, Xingqiu, please.”

“I know, I’m sorry, Chongyun.” Aether pushes the hair back from the boy’s flushed forehead. “Tell us how to help you.”

“Ice— need to be cold.” Chongyun blinks, his eyes hazy. “I can’t… father and Master Wu said I must keep it sealed…”

Aether hisses under his breath, and Xiao nearly does the same. There is no mistaking that the “it” of which Chongyun speaks is his own beautiful power.

“Here,” Ganyu says softly. “You can use your Vision again.”

She lowers the icy jewel onto Chongyun’s sternum, but the moment it makes contact, he clumsily thrashes back, further into Aether’s grasp and away from the source of his power. “No! I shouldn’t— I don’t need it. Just— Dragonspine, please. You can leave me there. Xingqiu will find me.”

The Vision dulls with Chongyun’s unequivocal rejection and slips to the floor with an oddly ringing finality.

But Aether seems entirely unsurprised. “I’m not taking you to Dragonspine.” He looks up. “I’m sorry, Zhongli, but is there some way we could fix him a cold bath? And I’ll tell you what little I know that might be related to his power. Maybe you’ll understand more.”

“Bring him back to his room,” Lord Rex nods solemnly. “I will arrange it.”

So Aether lifts Chongyun’s limp body and they hurry him back to the wing that contains his room. There, large windows spill natural light into every corner of the space, the air is warmed by a column of geo fragments set into a niche in the wall, and vibrant colors are scattered everywhere in the form of gilded carvings and hanging silks and plants in pots. Xiao has little eye for his surroundings as long as they pose no danger, but he can at the very least see that this wing is now decorated far differently than the rest of Lord Rex’s palace. Is it for Chongyun’s sake? Perhaps Aether will know.

Inside the room, a bath of perfectly clear water is already waiting, and Aether slowly lowers Chongyun in, still fully clothed. He yelps and splashes as the water meets his skin and soaks into his robes, but in the end, he falls still, shivering violently as he sinks up to the neck.

Chongyun looks so desperately, breakably miserable, that when Aether’s sorrow comes trickling across the bond, it is not difficult for Xiao to echo the same in response.

Lord Rex enters the room from behind them with a towel in his hands, his steps quiet over the stone.

“I can see some of it,” he says. “Yang energy rises with passion, and with no yin for balance, Chongyun was forced to keep both his mind and body cool in order to maintain control over himself. There are ways to train such control, of course, but I doubt any human still knows enough of the old ways to have taught him.” He pauses, frowning. “Then, unable to correctly use his powers, live up to the expectations of his clan, or relax for even a moment for fear of losing himself… Chongyun turned upon himself in the form of a curse.”

Silence.

“He hates his Vision,” Aether murmurs. “I never knew why, but he never used it for exorcisms, and I imagine he only kept it so close by his side because his body would have suffered if he hadn’t.”

“I sensed no other Vision-wielders while at his family’s estate. Perhaps he felt further isolated by a power no one else had.”

“While still being supposedly weaker than anyone he trained beside,” Aether sighs. “Chongyun, how are you feeling?”

“Cold. Hot.” Chongyun’s eyes drift up to them. “Why— why isn’t it going away?”

“I should have grounded his mind before allowing the curse to be purged,” Lord Rex says quietly. “When he is rested, I must ask his forgiveness.”

Sitting on the edge of the bath, Lord Rex gently takes Chongyun’s face in both hands, the heels of his palms tucking beneath Chongyun’s jaw while his fingers reach to meet the pressure points behind Chongyun’s ears, at his temples, and over his cheeks and brow.

A glow lights beneath Chongyun’s skin, and Xiao watches as a seal, fluttering as silk and fragile as spun glass, works its way through Chongyun’s seeping power.

Chongyun does not fight, and instead stares up into Lord Rex’s face with a clouded gaze.

When the seal is complete, one of Lord Rex’s hands rises to cover Chongyun’s eyes.

“Sleep.”

From there, no words are spoken as Lord Rex carries Chongyun out the bath and into his room. They all wait while Aether changes Chongyun’s wet clothes— then Ganyu lays his dim Vision on the bedside table, Lord Rex breathes a healing enchantment into the air, and they slip out the door one by one.

“My seal will be enough to sustain him for a while,” Lord Rex says, looking from Ganyu to Xiao. “But I hope you will be amenable to teaching him how to take hold of his own powers as soon as he is ready.”

“Absolutely,” Ganyu replies, and Xiao nods immediately.

“Thank you, my friends.” A tired smile accompanies the words. “For now, since Aether is awake, shall we return and salvage what we can of our meal?"

Notes:

Thanks for reading!
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Chapter 27: Tastes

Notes:

WRITER'S BLOCK FROM HELL
seriously i struggled with this so much, i rewrote portions of it literally 10 times, please save me

TW: Vaguely sexual actions without sexual intent?

Aether is quiet as they leave the dining hall, a strange tension lingering around his eyes that Xiao would do anything to wipe away. Was it Lord Rex’s explanation of the full breadth of Chongyun’s power that had brought him to this state? The bond between them flutters with worry.

“Aether,” Xiao calls carefully, and it is a moment before Aether’s attention turns to him.

“Ah, yes?”

He weighs his words. “We should stay together today. You need rest.”

“And so do you,” Aether says, his lips tugging slightly upward. “But I agree. Is there something you wanted to do?”

Xiao considers it. Without his powers or the ability to travel very far, they will be limited to the grounds of the palace. What might Aether enjoy here?

“There is a garden in the back, if you wish.”

“Oh,” Aether tilts his head curiously. “I’d like to see that.”

“Then follow me.”

Xiao leads him through to the back gates and pushes open the heavy door, late morning sunlight spilling into the hall. Beside him, Aether gasps softly.

A great, terraced garden spills out before them, all pebbled paths and arched bridges and colorful bursts of flowers. Small streams and ponds have been carved to match the Ley flows beneath the ground, and perfectly formed trees surrounded by grass provide places to comfortably rest. It is the result of a thousand years of Lord Rex’s careful work, and through Xiao rarely has reason to visit this place, he can still appreciate its beauty.

Aether trots out ahead, his gaze sweeping from side to side, and for a moment, Xiao is struck by the way he shines in the sun, a child so clearly born of and embraced by the light. How is it that such a brilliant star has devoted himself to a creature of the darkness like Xiao?

“Xiao!” Aether calls, bright laughter in his voice, and Xiao is helplessly drawn in.

He bends down beside where Aether is crouched on the path, watches as Aether gently prods a glaze lily’s closed petals.

“I’ve heard you have to sing to convince these to bloom in the daytime, but I’ve never tried it before,” Aether says, thoughtful.

“Yes.” Ganyu would hum lullabies to the flowers on their walks together, Xiao knows.

“What sort of song does it have to be?”

“The flower will know.”

“Hmm.” Aether cups the flower bud in his hands. “A shame I don’t speak their language, then.”

If he wishes to see one in full bloom…. Slowly, Xiao withdraws the flute from his sash, forcing his hands to keep steady as he reminds himself that there are none here who would take it from him.

Aether makes a quiet sound of surprise as Xiao lifts the instrument to his lips— and for the first time in centuries, begins to play.

The notes come wavering and pitched, and the once-easy flow of his music has been destroyed by years of fearful silence. No flower would bloom for him like this. But Xiao had hardly expected more.

He makes to drop the flute, but before his last breath can pour from his lungs… Aether’s voice, breathy and sweet, joins the melody. Has Xiao ever heard him sing before? There is no way he could have forgotten a sound so worthy of the courts of Celestia.

The simple notes of Aether’s song wash over the entire garden, and Xiao realizes it is the song they had shared in the valley on the nights when their sorrow could not be contained— only now, Aether’s call is one of belonging, of happiness freely exchanged with the earth. Xiao basks in it, burrows deep into the flow of their bond to align his fingers and breaths with Aether’s rhythm.

Before them, the flowers bloom, petals unfolding in soft layers of blue and white— beauty revealed by Aether’s touch. By Xiao’s touch.

Aether’s last note fades out into a sigh, and Xiao slowly lowers his flute as the lilies sway in the wind. Pressing his hands together and closing his eyes in a fleeting prayer, Aether then reaches out to neatly pluck one of the flowers from its long stem, lifting it to his nose and breathing in.

“They say silk flowers are the most enticing, but I’ve always liked flowers with lighter scents more,” Aether murmurs. He tilts the blossom toward Xiao. “Here. May I… put it in your hair?”

In his hair? Almost unconsciously, Xiao hooks a tangle of hair over his shoulder and studies it. It is rough, messy, unsightly. The lily would far better suit Aether.

“Hey,” Aether says gently, and then his hands are wrapping around Xiao’s and tugging the dark hair from his fingers. “Let me?”

If this is what Aether truly wishes, then Xiao will not refuse. He turns his back to Aether, lowering himself a little more to sit on the path. Aether hums, a pleased sound— then settles his fingers in the tangles of Xiao’s hair, combing back the strands that fall around Xiao’s ears and scratching blunt nails over his scalp in a way that Xiao never could.

Each small touch leaves stinging filaments of lightning in its wake, and Xiao tips his head further into Aether’s hands, helplessly seeking more of that unconditional warmth.

“Is this alright?” Aether murmurs. “Not too much?”

This time, there truly is no pain— or at least, there is very little of it; but even if Xiao had been in agony, he would not have opened his mouth. Already, he has made the mistake of telling Aether of his pain, of speaking that single word when Aether had kneeled above him at the tipping point. He cannot lose Aether’s touch again.

“No,” he says, and his voice comes strangely breathless.

“Okay.”

A gentle pressure lands against the back of Xiao’s head, a breath rustles over his hair— and Aether’s deft fingers continue their work.

Xiao is distantly aware when Aether picks up the first flower, but the moment the stem meets his hair, he jolts. His Heart is opening, blooming just as the lilies had as it accepts Aether’s offering and the endless sunlit affection that comes with it.

A quiet gasp from Aether puffs over Xiao’s nape, and of course, Aether can feel the offering too. But after a moment’s pause, he resumes folding the flower stem into the weave of Xiao’s hair, and Xiao can breathe again. The flower is followed by a second, then a third, and now Aether has lifted most of Xiao’s trailing hair away from his face and neck, presumably to add it all the complex weight piling over his head.

Many of the other adepti will spend hours twining their hair or feathers or fur into delicate patterns, turning themselves into living works of art. Does Xiao perhaps look the same?

“Done,” Aether murmurs at last, his hands slowly slipping down Xiao’s neck and shoulders in thin ribbons of heat. “Sorry, it’s a little messy. Maybe if I’d had a comb and some more time—”

Suddenly unable to wait any longer, Xiao stands and takes the few strides over to the nearest ornamental pond. The surface is emerald and glassy, and from it, his reflection stares back up at him, horns and yellow eyes framed by— by a crown of dark hair and jade threads and graceful flowers. This is him, his face, his hair, but Aether has transformed him utterly. The demon has vanished. Xiao is made— pretty.

“What do you think?” Aether asks, a faint tremor in this voice as he steps up behind Xiao, and Xiao turns to look at him instead.

Golden hair pinned into a loose knot, soft, questioning eyes, and twisting hands clasped together. Aether. He is always beautiful, far beyond anything Xiao could possibly offer... and now, for the very first time, Xiao does not fear he will mar that beauty simply by standing at Aether's side.

Desire sparks in his chest, and he reaches out thoughtlessly. How many times has this sensation taken over, and how many times has Xiao been unable to satisfy his aimless hunger? He begins to drop his hand, but without warning, Aether catches his wrist and draws it close, pressing Xiao’s palm to his chest.

“What do you need, Xiao?” Aether asks, gentle. The bond ripples as he probes through it, searching in tandem with his question.

But Xiao does not know.

Without words to speak his desire into existence, Xiao can only stand there, weak and useless under Aether’s patient gaze. Aether always seems to touch him so easily, always seems to know his own heart, even if he does not act upon that knowledge— so what is it that Xiao is lacking?

When the silence drags on, Aether gives Xiao’s hand a momentary squeeze before linking their fingers and hesitantly tugging him toward the middle of the garden. “Walk with me?”

And Xiao would follow Aether anywhere, so he does.

They come to a stop inside a small pavilion, a brilliant splash of red and gold against a backdrop of trees, and Xiao sits pressed up against Aether’s side at the tea table there. Though they are not touching directly, the bond still purrs with warm satisfaction.

“…I would serve tea in places like this,” Aether says into the quiet, and Xiao looks up at his distant gaze. “Not an Archon’s palace, of course, but… teahouses. Decorative gardens. Estate parties. At a pavilion like this, all my guests would sit around the table and I would stand at the open end to serve them. Sometimes, if it was just a few customers, they would invite me to sit as well, and I would entertain them.”

Aether’s fingers slip across the table’s surface, and Xiao readily lifts a hand to meet the shy touch.

“I used to dream about serving tea to you, did you know? I even made an altar once, just to tell you about it.” Aether’s smile is sad, but not bitter. “But in the end, that didn’t work out quite the way I’d hoped it would.”

The distant hopelessness in Aether’s voice strikes Xiao to the core. He has never before cared for such mortal affairs, but now— he wants to know more.

“Why not? You should do as you wish,” he says, and as always, his words come stilted and clumsy. “The tea. I will drink it.”

Aether studies him for a moment, brow creased. “But didn’t you say you couldn’t eat anything? Please don’t force yourself for my sake.”

“Saizhen is gone, so I am able to eat. It is simply…” Nightmares and snow and black bile and old fear “…difficult.”

Slowly, Aether shakes his head. “I’m sorry Xiao. I didn’t tell you that story to make you feel guilty or anything like that. It was just a silly old dream— I would never ask you to suffer for it. You know that, right?”

Something cold and sharp digs its claws into Xiao’s gut. “I wish to do this for you.”

“I already— I’m not going to hurt you, Xiao.”

“You will not. Even before this, I had thought to try mortal foods once again so as to eat with the others—”

“It’s alright, Xiao, I promise.” Aether’s gaze is earnest, sincere. “I’m not a— a master you have to please, no matter how much of your Heart I hold. So no need to push yourself until you're ready.”

“I am ready,” Xiao says, far louder than he had intended, and when he looks down, he finds that he has scratched deep gouges into the wood of the table. “I— it is not my master that I wish to serve, but you. If you desire something of me, and I have the power to fulfill it, then I will.”

Aether’s expression twists. “That might as well be the same thing. True, there are some things that you can do for someone else’s sake rather than your own, but this isn’t one of them. If eating will hurt you, then I— no. You should never have to suffer again. Especially not because of me!” He has half-risen from his seat, a mere handsbreadth higher, but towering all the same.

Xiao trembles.

“I apologize, Aether. I will do as you say.” He makes his voice as quiet as possible, and waits for Aether’s temper to cool, surprised by his own certainty that Aether will indeed calm, rather than fan the flames of his own rage as Saizhen always did.

But instead of settling and offering Xiao another of his gentle smiles, Aether only stands frozen above him, lips parted— before he staggers back, slipping from his chair to kneel at Xiao’s feet.

It’s wrong, wrong, wrong, and Xiao leaps up, ready to pull Aether back to standing, or join him on the ground— or perhaps simply to run. He is stopped by the sight of Aether’s hands pressed flat against the ground, one crossed over the other with the thumbs outstretched to form a small gap in the middle. It is an ancient prayer form, one meant to plead to the adepti in times of disaster or desperation. And Aether is doing it for Xiao.

“I’m sorry,” Aether whispers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just— I’m just making things worse, aren't I? I scared you. I’m sorry.”

The scene is nearly reminiscent of the time Xiao had begged Aether’s forgiveness the night he had gone to the Golden House— only now it is Aether on his knees, and he has far less reason than Xiao had to be there.

Hesitantly, Xiao places his fingers over the top of Aether’s bent head, and Aether flinches under the touch. The bond swirls with a storm, but Xiao feels certain that if he were to pull away now, it would rend that fragile sprout of their still-healing connection in two. “You… there is no need for this.”

“I think there is.” Aether laughs, a wet, painful sound. “I’m sorry. Who tells someone they should do what they want, then immediately forbids exactly that?”

Lowering himself to the ground, Xiao kneels before Aether and carefully leans in. It is easier to breathe without Aether so far below him. “If you do not wish to perform the tea ceremony, then I will not ask. It only seemed as if you would be— pleased to do so.”

“I… do want to make tea for you,” Aether says slowly. “But that’s really the problem. What I said earlier about not wanting to hurt you hasn’t changed, and... I was afraid you would just endure it to make me happy.”

Xiao wrestles with a reassurance for which he has few words. “If you are happy, then I…. You are the most important. And many things have changed since Saizhen’s defeat. Food is no longer a curse for me.”

For a long moment, Aether studies him, searching. “…Will you tell me if anything starts to feel wrong?”

Surrendering in a trial is a sign of weakness, and yet Aether seems to value Xiao’s fleeting emotions above all else. “I promise.”

Aether breathes in slow. “Alright.” His hand lifts, reaching for Xiao’s, and Xiao intertwines their fingers without hesitation.

“At ceremonies like these, it's traditional to wear a certain kind of outfit,” Aether asks, eyes full of a cautious hope. “Zhongli will probably have a robe for master of ceremony I can borrow, and since your hair is already done… I thought it would be nice to see you dressed up as well.” His throat works around a swallow. “But if not—!”

Aether… wants Xiao to change clothes? To not simply participate in the tea ceremony, but be placed as its centerpiece? With Aether's purification of his Heart, his body may no longer be stained by dark karma, closer to demon than noble adeptus, but even so… it would be foolish to call himself worthy of Aether's attention. Yet, if he cannot trust even Aether's words, what is left?

“Will it make you happy?” he finally asks, and Aether nods, small, and perhaps even timid.

"…It would."

And Xiao needs no further persuasion. Tightening his grip, he tugs Aether to his feet and impulsively reaches down to brush the dust from Aether’s robe.

“Thank you, Xiao,” Aether murmurs, something very warm and hopeful in his gaze, and Xiao straightens as a tension he had not previously noticed eases from his own shoulders.

He is safe in Aether’s hands, and neither did he let Aether fall. Their bond will not shatter today.

 

--

 

“I like this one, if it’s alright with you,” Aether says as he takes a step back, and Xiao looks down to study his own clothes.

Aether has chosen a simple hanfu in the color of the seafoam that washes up on Liyue’s shores, shimmering silk trimmed by jade and tied together by knots of gold. Beneath the robe is a close-clinging layer of black fabric with a gap over the chest, just below the high collar, and more sheer silk wraps over his shoulders and arms. Everything is soft and light, and Xiao somehow feels as if Aether has dressed him in the winds themselves.

His bare feet have been wrapped by pale ribbons around the arch and ankle, the result of Aether’s attentive work, but beyond the jewelry that accompanied the hanfu itself, the rest of Xiao’s body is left untouched.

Xiao lifts an arm just to feel the way the fluttering sleeve trails behind it in the air, then returns his gaze to Aether.

“It’s not fair,” Aether says, but his face is brilliant with a smile of unmistakable awe. “I probably could’ve wrapped you in a bedsheet, and you still would’ve been this beautiful.”

Again, Xiao melts under Aether’s praise.

“You— like it?” he asks.

“…Maybe a little too much,” Aether replies. He takes a step closer, eyes fixed low on Xiao’s face, before he shakes his head a little and quickly straightens Xiao’s sash. “If you want to head back to the garden now, I’ll change my own clothes and prepare the tea.”

Xiao has no wish to leave, but if he truly intends to learn something of mortal customs, of Aether’s life away from him, then he must follow Aether’s directions.

Slipping from the room, Xiao gives the bond between then a careful tap, and Aether sends a soft pulse of affection in return. Strange, how such a small thing can so greatly ease Xiao’s mind.

Satisfied, he begins to retrace his steps through the halls back to the garden, only to slow when he senses Lord Rex’s aura approaching from around the next corner.

“Ah, Xiao. I was— Xiao?”

Lord Rex blinks as he takes in Xiao’s appearance, and Xiao fights the urge to hide himself. Other adepti are permitted to indulge themselves in this way, so Lord Rex will hardly punish Xiao for doing the same, even if Xiao has never dressed so frivolously before.

“You look wonderful, Xiao,” Lord Rex says easily, approaching Xiao again. “I suppose this explains why Aether so suddenly determined to so thoroughly exercise his talents. Though I thought it best not to press as he ransacked my closets.”

Xiao settles somewhat at Lord Rex’s gentle amusement. “Aether told me of his art of mortal tea ceremony, and I requested a demonstration. He agreed.”

A smile crosses Lord Rex’s face. He looks almost… delighted.

“Aether’s skill in the traditional arts is indeed unsurpassed. I am glad you will have the chance to experience it.”

Such generous praise… kind as Lord Rex is, even he does not offer compliments like these to the unworthy.

“Is there anything I must know before the ceremony begins?” Xiao asks stiffly. He cannot mar Aether’s skill with a poor performance of his own.

“To others, I might recommend that the tea master be treated with the same esteem as one would a fine craftsman, no matter that they are in a position of service. But I do not believe respect for Aether is something I must impress upon you.” Lord Rex nods solemnly. “Please do not worry, Xiao. Aether will guide you wherever your knowledge may be lacking, and all you must do is enjoy your time with him.”

“…I understand,” Xiao murmurs. After moment’s hesitation, he adds, “Earlier… were you searching for me, Lord Rex?”

“Ah, I was, but that matter can wait for a while longer. Now… before you go, would you perhaps like some paint for your eyes?” Lord Rex gestures to the red stain at the corners of his own. “It is not required, of course, but I believe it would complement your look quite nicely.”

Would Aether like it?

“If you are willing, Lord Rex…”

“I would not have offered otherwise,” Lord Rex says placidly. “Please lift your chin and close your eyes.”

Xiao does so, and a moment later, the cold slide of a brush is moving just above his lashes and at the corners of his eyes. Lord Rex’s hand is steady, and the fingers that hold Xiao’s jaw are warm. It is not long before his work is done.

“You may look again.”

Carefully, Xiao opens his eyes, the drying stain tugging at his skin, and finds himself staring into the perfectly polished slab of jade that Lord Rex is holding before him.

His eyes seem to glow brighter when lined by dark paint, and the small red wings draw attention just as they do on Lord Rex. Xiao’s transformation into the lofty image of an adeptus is complete. Are there any who would recognize him as the Vigilant Yaksha now?

“It suits you well,” Lord Rex says, clearly pleased, and the jade crumbles away from his hands.

“Thank you, Lord Rex.” Xiao bends his head.

“I am happy to assist. Now, you should probably hurry on to your meeting place.” He smiles. “You wouldn’t want to make Aether wait.”

 

--

 

Xiao sits in the warm breezes of the garden for a while, idly tugging at the threads of wind around him, before Aether at last reappears over the rise of the path.

He is resplendent. Surrounded by flowers and bathed in the sun as he is, with a cream-colored robe fluttering around him like a butterfly’s wings and a golden sash around his waist, not even a god of beauty could compare. His hair is twisted up into a complex knot, charms dangling from the intertwined pins. And in his hands is one of Lord Rex’s many teasets, which he bears with the delicacy through the garden.

Stuck dumb by the sight, Xiao nearly fails to greet Aether when he enters the pavilion, and even then, all he can manage is a deep, reverent bow.

“Ready, Xiao?” Aether asks, almost shy, but Xiao cannot force his gaze away.

As Aether begins to unload his burden, he again glances up at Xiao, this time pausing. “Oh! Did you— do your makeup?”

Xiao touches the corner of his own eye. “…Lord Rex offered it.”

“It’s perfect.” And without warning, Aether leans in to press a soft kiss directly over Xiao’s fingers there.

…Surely the motion means he is pleased? The bond between them is glowing.

Soon after, Aether begins arranging the many items of the teaset he had brought, and Xiao learns that the tea ceremony is far more formality than practicality. Careful attention is paid to the direction in which each implement faces, the precise movements used to stir and pour the tea, and the pauses between each action. But though there are many steps and instructions, there is something meditative about the sequence, in the way Aether’s voice lilts through the air and the way his hands brush over Xiao’s.

By the time a cup of scented tea lands in Xiao’s hands, his mind and pulse have slowed; and when Aether sits directly beside him in what is surely a breach of ceremony etiquette, Xiao presses against him easily as breathing.

“It’s chrysanthemum tea, but I added some spices to bring out the sweetness,” Aether murmurs.

Xiao inhales, absorbs the cinnamon and herb of the tea; the sunlight and honey of Aether. He lifts the cup to his lips and drinks.

The first drop on his tongue sends a shock through his whole body, the flavors so far departed from the bitter nightmares he had always eaten before. He coughs. Feels Aether’s hand tighten around his shoulder. Takes another sip.

Allowed. He is allowed. Saizhen’s curse of dreams may have been woven firmly into his Heart, but the commands that came with it have long since vanished, and the lingering consequences of pain have been purged under Aether’s touch. With Aether by his side, there is no reason left for Xiao to hesitate.

Again he swallows, again his mouth burns.

“Are you alright, Xiao?” Aether peers at him with anxious eyes, lowering his own teacup.

And strangely… perhaps he is. Though his stomach is twisting, it is not threatening to reject what Xiao has drunk, and the smell of the tea is mild, tempered by Aether’s scent. It is blood-warm spilling down his throat, but without the taint of death and despair.

He makes it halfway through his cup before Aether lays a gentle hand over his wrist, stopping his next motion.

“I brought some foods as well, if you wanted to try them before the tea is gone. If not, of course…”

“No. I will,” Xiao says, his voice steady with new certainty.

Aether bobs his head in agreement and reaches to place a few soft white squares onto a plate in front of Xiao. “Here. I thought it would be best to bring something easy on your stomach, so it’s only almond tofu. The taste might be strange since I didn’t have much time to make it, but…”

Xiao stares for a moment. “How should I eat it?”

There are no chopsticks like Lord Rex normally uses, but neither does it seem correct to pick the plate up as if it were a soup to drink.

“Oh—” Aether lifts a hand halfway to his mouth, then blinks guiltily up at Xiao. “I forgot to bring a spoon. But that’s alright, we can just—”

And without pause, he picks up a square of— almond tofu?— and lifts it directly to Xiao’s lips. The touch of it is cold.

Xiao hesitates as the scent wafts up to itch at his nose, but Aether is waiting for him, and Xiao does not want to refuse. He opens his mouth, leans in, and bites.

It is as if sinking his teeth into the misty threads of a nightmare, if nightmares were soft as silk over his tongue. A faint sweetness meets his senses, but compared to the tea, its intensity is far diminished, and Xiao pays it little attention as cream melts away in his mouth.

If he were to exchange the honey of this food for the bitterness of Aether’s untainted nightmare, they would feel much the same.

Xiao takes another bite, then another, and before Aether’s hand can leave to reach for another piece, Xiao carefully catches his fingertips between his teeth to lick at the nectar there. His lips tingle.

Aether inhales sharply, but he makes no move to pull away. Reassured, Xiao continues his impulsive exploration, following a trail of liquid all the way down to Aether’s palm. Xiao has sampled but two mortal delicacies, and yet he is sure that the taste of Aether’s skin would far surpass even the finest dish.

A tiny sound leaves Aether’s mouth when Xiao returns to lapping at the pads of his fingers, but when he pauses to look up, Aether only shakes his head. “I don’t— you can keep going. If you want.” His voice is unsteady.

Soon, all the sugar from the almond tofu is gone, but Xiao finds that he cannot bring himself to release Aether’s fingers from his mouth. Why would he, when they are satin and sun-warm, a strangely calming weight left to rest over his tongue? Slowly, he closes his teeth around Aether’s index and middle fingers; savors the calm that settles over his mind at this new closeness with Aether and the bond.

Aether’s hand trembles, and when Xiao searches his face for signs of displeasure, he finds Aether’s ears and cheeks and neck flushed a soft red.

“Do you… want some more?” Aether asks, barely above a whisper, and Xiao nods.

Opening his mouth, he allows Aether’s fingers to slip away, and shivers involuntarily when they brush over his bottom lip. It is far easier to let go when he knows the touch will return.

Notes:

Holy chicken nuggets, i've written 100,000 words for one fic. ONE. what is my life?

Also posted a (VERY rough) concept sketch of Xiao's hanfu on tumblr!

Chapter 28: All I've Ever Wanted

Notes:

First off: Y'ALL PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU TO LOOK AT THIS XIAO AND ZHONGLI FANART BY THE LOVELY AND WONDERFUL @fatecharms
I GOT FANART. SOMEONE LIKED MY WRITING ENOUGH TO DRAW IT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Next, to @mango8, I listened to I Will basically nonstop this entire chapter so I owe you my life now ig

And finally, to anon Ao3 user @kaixenix, if you're still around, this chapter is for you. May the world survive.

TW: Very minor panic attack (Aether) in the second half of the chapter, long section of non-sexual dom/sub interaction.

Aether can barely keep still in his seat as he handfeeds Xiao the last of the almond tofu.

With every bite, Xiao’s tongue flicks over his skin; and in between full pieces, Xiao seems to like having Aether’s fingers simply pressing into his mouth. As if the touch is some familiar comfort, and not something that has Aether’s spirit ready to evacuate his body entirely.

The strangest part is that, for Xiao… it really might be just that. Really might be just an innocent connection, some way of reinforcing his bond with Aether. Certainly, Aether can feel his affection and trust, more focused now that Xiao has apparently been given an outlet for his desire. And Aether doesn’t mind that, truly, but in many other worlds— and in Teyvat as well— Xiao’s actions would normally be interpreted far differently. Should he simply pretend he knows nothing and let Xiao do this harmless thing that he so clearly enjoys?

Curling his fingers a little against Xiao’s tongue, Aether has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from saying anything when Xiao sighs and his eyes slip shut. If he’d known that compensating for a lack of utensils would lead to this…

At least Xiao was able to eat the foods Aether had bought him. Even if they don’t do this sort of thing often, it warms something in Aether’s chest to know both that Xiao has left the God of Dreams far enough behind to take control of his own body, and that it may one day be possible to invite Xiao to a proper tea ceremony after all.

Xiao licks Aether’s fingers, then his own lips, and finally Aether can draw his hand back again. They stare at each other for a quiet moment, and Aether drinks in the sight of Xiao’s ethereal beauty, of the lilies twined into his hair and the graceful flutter of silk over his strong body. He looks… healthy. Whole. Peaceful, even, in a way he’d never been in Nantianmen.

“Is that all?” Xiao asks, slow and hazy.

Right. The tea ceremony. With fumbling hands, Aether retrieves the plates and cups; and, skipping over the second round of tea service entirely, performs a closing ritual so abridged that Master Yi’en probably would’ve revoked his title on the spot if she could’ve seen it. With a final bow, he heaps the pieces of the tea set at the corner of the table and steps out of the pavilion.

It’s hardly traditional, but this will be enough to end his trial ceremony with Xiao. The dishes can be retrieved later.

After a moment’s hesitation, Xiao follows Aether back out onto the path, pebbles crunching softly beneath every bare-footed step. “It did not hurt.”

Aether blinks at him.

“The tea. The food. It did not hurt. So… will you allow me to join you again?”

Xiao’s eyes flicker, hopeful, and Aether has to take a few deep breaths. Now is not the time to be shouting his happiness up to the sky.

“Of course! I look forward to it,” he says instead, and maybe the smile on his face and the joy he doesn’t bother to veil from their bond will make up for it.

Xiao bobs his head, then jerkily closes the remaining gap between them. “I… wish to try something.”

Oh? But Aether is hardly about to deny him, especially not in this fragile moment. “What is it?”

And without any further warning, Xiao leans in— and presses his lips to Aether’s.

…What?

A strangled sound escapes Aether’s throat as he stumbles back, fingers instinctively coming up to cover his mouth. His skin is alight, burning as though touched by a brand rather than Xiao’s soft, dry lips.

Panic seeps into Xiao’s gaze as he lifts a hand after Aether. “Was that— wrong?”

Frozen as he is, it takes Aether far to long to respond. “…No,” he says faintly. “Just—” Why did you do that? Do you know what it means? Are you trying to return the feelings I thought I’d hidden? “Why?”

“I had seen mortals and other adepti… kiss, to connect with each other. To— prove affection. Is it perhaps different for you?” Xiao says haltingly.

“Not different, but—” Aether stops, swallows around the pressure that has settled in this throat. “To me, a kiss like that means… means love.”

“Love…” Xiao echoes, and he’s not saying it to Aether, not saying it with meaning at all, and still Aether’s heart trips over itself.

Reaching for the bond, Aether finds it glowing with soft curiosity and affection and his own helpless want. Xiao doesn’t seem to fully understand the emotions that come tangled with the word “love,” but neither is he repulsed, and that’s all Aether can ask for.

“I didn’t mind it,” he says quietly. “Or rather— I liked it.”

Xiao studies him with quiet doubt, a decision on the brink.

“I promise,” Aether continues when it seems Xiao will make no comment of his own. “You didn't hurt me. I'm not sure you could.”

“…Then… so long as I also remain unharmed…” Xiao says, uncertain and slow. “You would— allow me to continue?”

Allow? Aether meets Xiao’s gaze; recalls the touches he has withdrawn and dodged to avoid bringing Xiao pain. Is he being too careful, just as he had when trying to stop Xiao from eating?

Right. He may have Xiao’s Heart, but he is far from Xiao’s keeper.

“Yes,” Aether manages faintly. “Whatever you need— whatever you want. I’m sorry, Xiao. I’ll do better.” He must.

And Xiao nods, whole body canting in toward Aether. Yearning. Searching. “Then…”

A soft, rasping voice, piercing eyes refined by flares of red, the light stirring of silk over the hard lines of a body. Aether couldn’t have stopped the shiver that rattles down his spine if he’d tried.

“Yes, please.”

Xiao’s eyes slip shut as he again brings their lips together— and this time, Aether is ready to kiss him back. He’s warm and gentle, hesitant in his movements, but still so clearly eager. Carefully, Aether guides him, nudging Xiao’s hands up behind his neck and turning the both of them so their lips can slot together. Though their mouths remain closed, the kiss soft and careful, it’s still by far the best of any of the kisses Aether has experienced in his long life.

The bond is soaring.

When they part, it is slow, easy, with a shared breath mingling in the nothing space between them. Xiao’s tongue darts out to lick over the corner of Aether’s mouth. It’s a surprisingly innocent gesture.

Aether breathes out a soft sigh— then, because he can, reaches up to fold a hand around the side of Xiao’s neck. A startled sort of purr vibrates beneath his touch, and Xiao presses into it, eyes heavy-lidded and lips parted. Aether very nearly trips standing still.

If Xiao is in pain at all, it certainly isn’t showing.

Eventually, Aether starts to draw his hand away, only for Xiao to catch it and lace their fingers together. He stares down at their connection, the contrast of his own soft skin to Xiao’s scars and dark, clawed nails. Truly, it’s incredible that two beings as different as he and Xiao are now so inseparably close.

Wordlessly, Xiao gives his hand a tug, and Aether readily follows him back past the pavilion and down a side trail. They end up walking all the way to a river bottomed by colorful stones and the large stone bridge that arcs above it, and Aether leans against the rail there to enjoy the breeze. Quiet settles around them like snow, but it is not uncomfortable. After all, he and Xiao are bound, one Heart between two bodies, lovers— almost lovers?— who have shared a kiss. For now, at least, things are simple, and there’s no need for Aether to overthink it.

Feeling almost daring, he turns his head to quickly tap a kiss against the shell of Xiao’s pointed ear, and Xiao’s head snaps toward him. His normally slit pupils have grown wide, and set against the pale glow of his eyes, he looks like some particularly-elegant startled cat.

Aether can’t help but stare. It’s… cute.

Then Xiao leans in to return the gesture, breathing a soft hum right over Aether’s ear, and suddenly Aether finds that he doesn’t have the focus to spare on much of anything else.

“We should probably go back soon,” he murmurs, and Xiao nods in reply.

“I wish to visit Lord Rex.”

“Oh?” Aether blinks at him. “Why?”

“Before I returned to the pavilion for the tea ceremony, he had come searching for us. When I asked, he said the matter could wait, but perhaps now is the best time for us to return to him,” Xiao says, a little haltingly.

What would Zhongli be calling them for now? If it had been about Chongyun, Aether doubts he would have let things lie, and it’s still a little early for Aether and Xiao to be testing out their powers again…

“Well, I don’t mind,” he agrees. “Lead the way.”

So Xiao takes them back through the winding garden and into the palace, where the halls are cool and shadowed compared to the afternoon sun outside. Aether shivers in the sudden chill— and almost instantly, Xiao’s hand comes up to clasp around his wrist. He jumps when a pulse of warmth from that small touch seeps through his entire body.

A laugh threatens to spill from his throat. Is this how simple it could have been to receive the touches he aches for? Just trusting Xiao and talking to him?

A soft golden light greets them when Xiao pushes open the doors to the great hall, and Aether pauses at the sight of Zhongli meditating at the center of a swirl of power and half-formed seals. Looping around crossed legs is the tufted length of his tail, and branching horns glow like a crown above his head.

“Aether, Xiao, welcome—” Zhongli pauses in his greeting, expression open and surprised as he presumably takes in the sight of them. “Ah, how lovely. I had seen Xiao earlier, of course, but together you are particularly arresting.” He smiles. “I shall consider myself lucky to have seen you this way.”

How Zhongli can always deliver flattery with such genuine appreciation, Aether will probably never know. Perks of being a timeless Archon, maybe?

He has to fight a smile of his own when his bond with Xiao flutters with pleased relief, and he catches Xiao’s averted gaze.

“Please excuse the mess, I was preparing a new sigil.” Zhongli beckons them in, the floating scraps of paper around him fluttering off to stack themselves in a corner.

“I apologize for the delay, Lord Rex,” Xiao says, bowing. “Did you have need of us?”

“Only in that now is a convenient time to take care of certain necessary tasks.” Zhongli pauses for long moment. “I will keep this simple. Xiao… would you be willing to test the boundaries of Aether’s command over your Heart?”

Oh.

Though their hands are no longer linked, Aether can almost feel Xiao stiffen at his side, and he holds his breath in the fragile silence.

“What— what must I do?” Xiao asks, voice as cracking and brittle as ice. Aether wants nothing more than to reach out and comfort him, but no matter the trust between them, now is not the time for him to be touching Xiao.

Zhongli speaks with infinite gentleness. “Very little. If all goes as expected, Aether will give you an easy command, I will do the same, and finally, you will give Aether a command as well. But no matter the outcome, I— and, I believe, Aether as well— will not allow you to come to any harm.”

“…I will give Aether a command?” Xiao whispers. His eyes flicker to Aether, fearful.

Zhongli nods. “You share a Heart, so it would not be unreasonable to expect that Aether might be affected by your words as well.”

Aether hadn’t even considered that possibility, but the more he thinks about it… the more he hopes it’s true. Of course, he might not have command over Xiao at all, and that would be even better. But if he does, and if Xiao holds sway over him as well… perhaps Aether will no longer have to live in fear of one day stealing Xiao’s will, accidentally or not, with Xiao unable to reclaim it on his own.

After a long stillness, Xiao’s head drops in a nod, and Aether struggles to breathe around the sudden strain of his Heart.

“If you will stand facing each other, then,” Zhongli says softly, gesturing to the space before him.

Reluctantly, Aether parts from Xiao to take his indicated place, and when he looks up across the chasm between them, he finds Xiao’s gaze fixed almost desperately upon him. Eyes full and empty. Terrified and placid.

Aether steels himself against the weight that comes crashing down over his shoulders, Xiao’s absolute trust weaving its way through his veins. Without hesitation, Xiao has poured out his entire being and placed himself in Aether’s hands. It is a burden heavier than the fate of a world.

Aether will carry it with all his strength.

“Your command should remain simple,” Zhongli says to him. “Something Xiao would easily do under his own will.”

In this situation, is there any command Aether could give that would be truly ‘simple?’ He stares into Xiao’s motionless face and takes a deep breath.

“Xiao…” After so much time carefully choosing his words to avoid anything that might become an order, it’s surprisingly difficult to give voice to an imperative now. “Come over here, please.”

A strange tension flickers in his Heart, like a string being plucked from far away. And that’s a little concerning, but the sensation disappears almost instantly, so… it should still be harmless enough, right? Aether half-lifts a hand toward Xiao, as an encouragement or a welcome he isn’t sure—

Xiao’s whole body judders, a tremor that seems to bloom from the inside out— and then his footsteps are whispering, thunder-loud across the floor as he crosses the gap between them and gracefully slips to his knees.

His cheek comes to rest in Aether’s outstretched hand, and the huff of his breath is hot over Aether’s skin.

Aether can do nothing but stand there, frozen, useless, as his thoughts reach a fever pitch, and somehow he’s failed, Xiao is at his feet like a slave to a master, and he’s failed—

A warm weight presses in at his back, and then Zhongli’s stone-dark arms are wrapping around him, one hand gently covering his face to coax his eyes shut while the other splays over his sternum. Slow, rolling waves of geo fill Aether’s heart and lungs as the screaming panic of his body is forced to match the Archon’s steady rhythm.

“There is no need to fear, Aether,” Zhongli murmurs. “Can you feel Xiao’s will? He is indeed reacting strongly to your command, but he has chosen his place freely, trying to satisfy both your wishes and his own in the way he knows best. Right now, you are everything to him. Breathe.”

Now that the ringing in his ears isn’t drowning out all else, Aether can feel the soft hum of the bond; the hazy but deliberate pleasure that bleeds from Xiao’s core. He’s… on his knees because he wants to be. Because he feels… safe.

Safe?

Stars, Aether has Xiao’s everything in the palm of his hand, almost literally, and still Xiao’s mind is calm, his body utterly unguarded. He’s trusting Aether to protect him. Surely that means Aether has not simply taken the God of Dreams’ place in Xiao’s head?

Zhongli’s hands draw away, and Aether’s gaze immediately falls to Xiao, as inevitable as the pull of gravity or the flow of the tides. Xiao looks up at him in return, eyes heavy-lidded but still clear, and when Zhongli silently places a chair behind him, Aether sinks into it without another thought.

He curls his fingers below Xiao’s jaw, just a fraction, and the bond flares with bright pleasure. Xiao is happy that Aether is happy, that Aether is pleased with him. As if Aether could be anything else right now.

Gently, he guides Xiao’s head to his thigh— it just feels right— and Xiao shifts until he’s comfortable, one hand resting in his own lap and the other wrapping loosely around Aether’s calf.

“Is this enough, Aether?” Xiao rasps and Aether trembles as he lowers a hand to the delicate loops and knots of Xiao’s hair.

“Yes, it’s— you’re perfect.”

It’s not quite what he’d meant to say, but with the words come more pleasure, like a prism scattering light; and Aether sinks into it as he quietly strokes a thumb over Xiao’s temple.

They don’t try much else— even if Aether had known what more to do, this was only meant to be a brief test in the first place. But they rest together for a while, Aether above and Xiao below, energy swirling between them like some great hurricane, growing stronger with every passing moment.

By the time Zhongli rouses them with a gentle call, Aether almost feels as if he’d never been sick or injured in the first place. Later, if Xiao is willing, they’ll have to give this another attempt. But first…

“Please, take a moment to recover yourselves,” Zhongli says when Xiao stumbles while climbing to his feet. “There is no rush. I am only glad the two of you resonate so well, even in this.”

Aether gives himself a little shake as he rises from the chair, then another when the dream-like fog doesn’t immediately clear from his mind. The feeling is hardly debilitating, but every movement seems to drag out as if underwater, and the low throb of the bond keeps him grounded deep in the river of Xiao’s thoughts. He’s tuned to Xiao in a way he hadn’t been even at the moment he’d accepted Xiao’s Heart.

Is there something more they could do with a connection like this?

“Ready?” Zhongli asks then, and Aether returns his attention to the room around him.

Xiao nods, a much steadier motion now, and takes up a resting stance before Zhongli. It’s clearly the position of someone prepared to serve— Aether himself has used it many times before while in the teashop— but neither is it particularly submissive. Merely calm. Patient.

“Please draw your weapon,” Zhongli commands in a low voice.

Xiao’s eyes flutter closed— then open again, piercing and bright. Over his outstretched hand, the jade spear glitters into existence, and he swings it down to his side in an easy grip.

“Now,” Zhongli says, even quieter. “Strike me.”

Aether stills with Xiao, but Zhongli seems entirely serious. His arms outstretch, lines of light along them dulling as he exposes his chest, and although there’s no mistaking that he still has an Archon’s power, it has been muted. Suppressed.

Whatever Xiao chooses to do, it will take precious moments for Zhongli to reignite his power again and fight back. Precious moments long enough to drive a spear through his heart.

Xiao’s knuckles are white where they clench over the handle of his spear, and his arms and shoulders are shaking. “I— will not.”

“Strike me, Xiao,” Zhongli insists, still placid as the morning waters.

Xiao’s single step forward rings out like a strike of a gong, and Aether burns as Zhongli’s command and Xiao’s resistance go to war in his borrowed Heart.

“No,” Xiao bites out. “No, I have no wish to hurt you, Lord Rex. I— have chosen you as my master, so my life is to protect yours.”

“Chosen…” Zhongli murmurs. “Though I formed your contract only moments after Saizhen’s fall?”

“…Even if we were to go back, I would always do the same.” Xiao’s voice is barely above a whisper.

After a moment, Zhongli breathes a low sigh, and the glow of his limbs returns as he meets Xiao in the middle of the room. “And if I were to go back, I would have destroyed Saizhen far sooner.” He taps at Xiao’s fingers until they loosen and the spear dissipates into the air, then places a kiss over the mark at Xiao’s forehead. “Thank you, Xiao. I release you from my command.”

Xiao’s entire body slumps, and Zhongli catches him firmly around the shoulder. And at Zhongli’s encouraging nod, Aether rushes forward to press up against Xiao’s side as well.

The storm of Xiao’s Heart is slowly calming, and Aether nudges a thread of his own pride down the bond for Xiao to feel. Strange, to be proud of someone for defying the orders of a god, but Aether hardly plans to withhold his praise because of it. Besides, Zhongli clearly doesn’t mind.

“So, you retained your will under Aether’s command and could both follow and reject mine,” Zhongli says with a warm smile. “Shall we move forward with the final test?”

To see if Aether is compelled by Xiao’s word. He’s never felt anything during all the times they’d talked before, but perhaps something will be different if Xiao intends to command him?

“A simple order will do,” Zhongli murmurs as he steps away from Xiao.

Slowly, Xiao turns to Aether, uncertainty heavy in his gaze, and Aether pours all the love he can into his answering smile.

“I still trust you,” he promises.

Xiao’s lips part, then, but it’s a long moment before he speaks. “…Come and sit.” His voice trembles as he draws the chair they’d used earlier over to his side.

Aether barely notices the gesture though, because— oh. Oh. The twang of a string he’d felt when commanding Xiao is now a resonant symphony in his chest, every shivering note crying out to obey the one who has called. If this is what Xiao had felt…

No wonder he hadn’t hesitated.

Stumbling in close, Aether ignores the chair entirely and, in what is certainly an ironic move on his part, carefully settles on his knees before Xiao. It’s good. Xiao stands over him, strong and safe, and Aether can allow himself to drift a little as he drinks in Xiao’s warmth and iron-tinged scent.

He knows that Xiao could take anything from him. He trusts that Xiao will never do so. Right now, Aether is but an extension of Xiao’s will, a vessel of his Heart, a void to be filled with his praise; Xiao above and him below. The sensation is heady.

Suddenly, Zhongli is there, standing at Xiao’s back just as he’d done for Aether— but for now, there is no need to give it any more thought. After all, he’s under the protection of two of the most powerful divines in Teyvat. What does he have to fear?

Gentle, clumsy hands land in Aether’s hair, tugging out the pins and knots until the strands cascade down his back, and combing through the tangles left behind. Claws nick lightly around his ears and temple, and calloused fingertips stroke up and down his nape. Aether shamelessly cants his head into the touch, and Xiao’s hands splay out beneath the hinge of his jaw in response. It’s bliss.

Between them, the bond is again overflowing, small eddies of wind stirring around them as Xiao’s Vision flickers.

“You are— mine,” Xiao says, voice steady, but still halting in its caution.

“Yours,” Aether agrees, the word rolling sweetly off his tongue. “And you’re mine.”

“Yours.”

A peaceful quiet settles over them, and Aether turns his head just enough to press a kiss to Xiao’s palm. Xiao’s fingers fold in, brushing over his bottom lip in response, and then Aether is being tugged back up to standing, his weight tipping against Xiao’s chest. Even with his head resting up by Xiao’s collarbone, he can still hear the comforting flutter of his pulse.

“May I kiss you?” Xiao asks out of nowhere, and Aether jolts up to look him in the eye.

What he finds is a keen desire, a hunger given direction, a need that still waits for permission. Denying Xiao touch was the worst thing Aether had ever done.

He leans in and meets Xiao’s half-parted lips, sighing when his blood sings with a now-familiar heat and the haze of his… submission? is cleared from his thoughts. Xiao laps softly in Aether’s mouth, and Aether allows it, keeping still while Xiao explores.

“Please excuse me,” Zhongli says then, almost flustered, and Aether laughs into Xiao’s mouth when the door quickly swings open and clatters shut behind them.

It’s not as if this small moment fixes all his troubles, not with Chongyun still so unstable and Lumine still missing. But for now, it’s more than enough.

Notes:

I used all my braincells churning this out, I'll see you all in 2 weeks T_T
<3

Chapter 29: Catalyst

Notes:

I haven't been getting much sleep this past week thanks to some minor health issues, so if you happen to see more mistakes than usual in this chapter (literally finished it today lol), let's just pretend it's because of that.

TW: Brief mention of Xiaother's dom/sub dynamic, minor panic attack for Chongyun, mild description of blood/injury.

When Aether and Xiao finally return to Chongyun’s room to check on his condition, it’s to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, listening intently as Ganyu explains something about the relation of Visions and ambition.

He perks up when Aether pushes open the door, no sign of the pain he’d endured just a few hours ago— then halts, eyes growing wide.

“Aether? And… the Vigilant Yaksha?”

Right. They’re both still dressed for the tea ceremony. At least Chongyun probably won’t care much.

“How are you feeling?” Aether asks, and Chongyun’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he actually answers.

“I’m… alright.” His gaze slips from Aether to Xiao and back again, faint color rising on his cheeks. “Lady Ganyu was telling me what happened when I— lost control earlier.”

Ganyu frowns. “You did not lose control, your core was simply released from its curse without proper safeguards in place to protect you. Until Lord Rex’s seal fades, you only need focus on gaining enough mastery of your Vision to activate or silence it at will. Then you will be free to return to Liyue Harbor or learn the adeptal arts of exorcism whenever you like.”

There’s quite a lot of information there, but Aether finds himself struck by one thing in particular. “Chongyun, you can’t leave the palace?”

“I… my Vision is unstable, so I must stay for training,” Chongyun says hesitantly, looking up at Ganyu.

“He may leave the palace, it is only Liyue Harbor or other crowded locations that must be avoided,” she explains softly.

“Ah.”

Chongyun had been rejecting his Vision even before this, but if he now has to fear it as well…

“Xingqiu needs to hear about this,” Aether sighs. “I’m sorry, Ganyu, but…”

Ganyu smiles, a little wry. “Bringing a message to the Liang estate will be the easiest of my tasks when I return to the harbor.”

Standing, she brushes out the creases of her robes and lays a hand over Chongyun’s. “While I am away, Xiao or Lord Rex will be the ones to calm any flares of your Vision, so please do not hesitate to ask them for help. And of course, Aether is here to take care of you as well.”

Chongyun nods mutely, and Aether already knows he won’t be coming to them for anything short of impending death. In a way, it’s fortunate that they won’t have any choice but to stay in close quarters for a while.

“Then, I will be back as soon as my duties in Yuehai Pavilion allow,” Ganyu says as she opens the door. “Take care of yourself, Chongyun.”

“Thank you, Lady Ganyu,” Chongyun whispers.

As Ganyu makes her way to the door, her fingers butterfly over Aether’s shoulder before she pauses just behind him to lean into Xiao’s ear.

“You look good, Xiao,” she says, barely loud enough for Aether to hear. “I'm glad you found a reason to enjoy yourself like this.”

And with a final, secretive smile to them, she’s gone.

A rustle from the other side of the room draws Aether’s attention, and he tenses as Chongyun slips off the bed and to his feet. But though it takes Chongyun a moment to straighten up, he seems steady, and he joins Aether and Xiao by the door with no trouble.

So the sudden release of his power hadn’t done him any lasting harm. That’s a relief, at least.

“Is there anything you need, Chongyun?” Aether asks. “Food? Water? A bath?”

“Um, Lady Ganyu already brought me something to eat, so I’m alright… I’d just like to start training.”

“Already?”

Chongyun nods vehemently.

If Chongyun is fully recovered, then Aether supposes there’s no point in waiting, but… something about the situation has unease prickling in his gut. “Xiao? Did you have something in mind for Chongyun’s training? I’ll help where I can, but I don’t have a Vision, so…”

“Yes,” Xiao says in his usual blunt way. “Though it will only be mastery of your Vision, rather than mastery of cryo.”

“I will learn whatever you have to teach me, Vigilant Yaksha,” Chongyun says, voice wavering somewhere between earnest and terrified.

“Then follow.” Xiao hooks his fingers with Aether’s, casual as a morning stroll, and leads them out toward the palace entrance.

Though Chongyun is half a step behind them, Aether can still feel his gaze burning into their joined hands. How strange must it be for him, either to see a friend so close with an immortal adeptus or to watch that oft-feared adeptus show such kindness. Aether can only hope the sight of his and Xiao’s connection will ease some of Chongyun’s anxiety.

The three of them make it all the way out past the gates and into the grassy mountain slope beyond before a thunderous crash tears through the air and a shimmer of gold pours out onto the ground before them.

Chongyun’s yelp echoes on the tail of the sound as Xiao inclines his head to the towering dragon that steps out from the light.

“Lord Rex?”

“I apologize for startling you,” Zhongli says, and his voice shakes the earth. “But there is something I must give to Chongyun before you step out into the wider realm of Jueyun Karst.”

Eyes wide and shoulders hunched, Chongyun lifts a shaky finger to point at himself. “M-me?”

“Yes,” Zhongli says kindly, and Aether steps aside to clear his path to Chongyun.

“Though there are fewer adepti living in these lands now than there once were, it will still be safest if you carry a sigil of permission whenever you are not traveling with me. Mountain Shaper is rather… indiscriminate with his punishments for trespassers, after all.”

“Oh.” Chongyun’s already-light skin pales a little further. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Understandable, in your position,” Zhongli says. “And I am aware that few active sigils still remain among the people of Liyue Harbor. Come.”

Chongyun takes a very, very tiny step forward into Zhongli’s shadow.

“If I may see your hand?”

Catching Chongyun’s arm in his huge claws, Zhongli turns it over until the soft inner wrist is exposed. “Normally, I would simply create a new paper sigil to give a traveler of Jueyun Karst, but you are no ordinary visitor. So, in order to mark you as one under my protection, I will place the sigil directly upon your skin. Is this agreeable to you?”

Chongyun is silent for a moment. “Will it… affect my training at all?”

“Your training?” Zhongli repeats, amber eyes narrowing a fraction. “It will neither hurt you nor interfere with your powers, if that is your fear.”

“…Okay. Then it doesn’t matter.” Chongyun uncurls his fingers.

Again, unease trickles through Aether’s mind. Training. Is that really all Chongyun cares about?

A single talon, glowing with adeptal power, moves to the pulse point at Chongyun’s wrist, and Zhongli bends his head to Chongyun’s height. “Breathe.”

When Chongyun inhales, the bright power is released, veins of gold stretching out beneath his skin from elbow to fingertip. His breath audibly hitches as he watches the flow.

“Done,” Zhongli announces as the glow fades, and when he withdraws his claw, it is to reveal a small mark— half a symbol of geo on top with a few lines of a normal sigil of permission below, and a single spike from the cryo symbol at the very bottom.

Wide-eyed, Chongyun lifts his wrist and touches a trembling finger to the mark. “It’s warm…”

“Good. The other adepti will be able to see it.” Zhongli nods.

Chongyun’s arm returns to its normal appearance, save for the golden sigil, and… huh.

“Hey, Zhongli?” Aether asks, and Zhongli’s head sweeps around toward him. “Entirely out of curiosity, why don’t I have a sigil of permission?”

Xiao scoffs at the same time Zhongli gives a quiet laugh. “As if we could mistake you for anything other than Xiao’s Heart.”

Momentarily stunned, Aether can only blink at him, and Zhongli returns his attention to Chongyun. “You are free to go now. And if you encounter any trouble with the other adepti, simply call upon me. I will set them straight.”

“Lord Rex, if I may request something of you…” Xiao murmurs before Zhongli can step back entirely.

“Of course. What do you need, Xiao?”

“Do you— may I take a catalyst to use for training? It should only be needed for a short while.”

A glow is already beginning between Zhongli’s talons. “Ah. I understand. Keep this for as long as you require.”

A circular catalyst shimmers into existence, black, silver, and ice blue layers wrapping around each other to form almost a full ring around a jewel floating in the center. Xiao accepts the weapon in both hands.

“Thank you, Lord Rex.”

Zhongli dips his head in response, and with a flick of his tail and flash of light, he vanishes.

--

Xiao takes them on a short walk over the path down the mountain, stopping when it curves around to a large, empty plateau that overlooks the stone forest and river below.

“We will train here,” he announces as he turns back to face Aether and Chongyun. “Take this.”

Chongyun catches the catalyst in fumbling hands, holding it as if it were a spindle of glass. “Um… what am I supposed to do with it?”

Xiao stares at him. “Use it.”

“Ah—” Aether lifts his palms, looking back and forth between them. “Chongyun normally uses a claymore, so I’m not sure he knows how to wield a catalyst yet?”

“A claymore…” Xiao repeats. “So, that broken weapon by the altar you used to summon me was yours. Why do you use such a thing?”

Slowly, Chongyun lifts his gaze to Xiao’s face. “…My father gave it to me.”

“It does not suit you.”

A familiar stubbornness tightens Chongyun’s jaw. “I can handle it.”

“You have a warrior’s body, but a claymore will only ever slow you down. Use a weapon that will not overpower you.”

Chongyun opens his mouth, then abruptly snaps it shut and turns away. A crackling sound draws Aether’s attention to the grass, which is… rapidly turning white around Chongyun’s feet?

“Xiao—!” He yells, and Xiao lunges forward just as a wall of jagged ice erupts in a ring around Chongyun’s body. Chongyun screams, unseen.

Without a second thought, Aether draws his sword and leaps in, swinging in perfect time with Xiao to shatter the thickening ice, gritting his teeth through the bone-juddering recoil that shoots up his arm. Chongyun has his hands over his Vision, perhaps in a desperate attempt to suppress it, but it has only buried him in heavy frost up to the shoulders.

“Hold him, Aether,” Xiao bites out, and Aether wrestles his arms around Chongyun’s torso. The moment Chongyun is restrained, Xiao slaps one hand over his unfocused eyes and the other just beneath his ribcage.

Chongyun convulses once— then falls still. The ice crumbles away, aided by the swirl of warm air that sweeps in at a twitch of Xiao’s fingers, and when Chongyun’s eyes open again, they’re glittering with tears and shame.

“Sorry,” he whispers, hunching into himself. “Sorry.”

Xiao sits back on his heels— breathing harder than he probably should be, really— and levels Chongyun with a stare. “Do you… wish to master the claymore?”

A tiny, hitching breath. “…I don’t know. Master Wu taught me how to wield it, and I— my clan only uses short swords and polearms, so I thought I could stand out more if I learned something else.”

“They don’t use catalysts or bows?” Aether asks. Thinking back, it’s true that he’s never seen an exorcist equipped with a ranged weapon, but he’d always just assumed they were tucked away into the void somewhere.

“A catalyst is the weapon of one who has given up the true path of martial refinement, and the bow is the weapon of a coward,” Chongyun says. The words are rhythmic. Rote.

…Where to even begin unraveling all of that?

Xiao’s face darkens. “Only the truly weak believe in such limits of strength.”

“Lady Ganyu is an archer, you know,” Aether adds, careful to keep his voice light. “Does your clan think less of her for that?”

“I’ve never heard anyone speak of it. But… perhaps. She’s had thousands of years to master any weapon she liked, and yet she chose…”

Chongyun seems uncertain about that, but even so, it means he views her with at least a little doubt. Aether exhales softly. Every time he thinks the Liu clan couldn’t be any worse…

“Those who wield a catalyst hold the greatest command over their elemental abilities. You will master this weapon, and in return, I will find a way for you to continue fighting with a claymore, if you still wish it,” Xiao says stiffly.

Something in the bond is pulled taut and searing, and Aether gently strokes across it. It’s clear enough that Xiao’s anger is not aimed at Chongyun— at least, not directly— but the calmer he is, the less wary Chongyun will be.

With a tiny nod, Chongyun stands and slips his Vision back into the folds of his robe.

“Good,” Xiao returns the fallen catalyst to Chongyun’s grasp, and Chongyun’s shoulders quickly straighten. “Relax your body and widen your stance. First you must learn to make your weapon ready for use.”

--

Xiao is, as Aether learns over the next few hours, a surprisingly patient teacher.

Even when Chongyun shifts restlessly during his meditation or fails to make the catalyst float in his hands for more than a moment, Xiao never raises his voice, offers neither false compliment nor biting criticism. Again and again, he tells Chongyun to focus and start over— and for all the tension that lines his shoulders, Chongyun responds well to the instruction. An immortal’s composure and a warrior’s tenacity… Aether watches them with no small amount of admiration.

After a while, he joins in on the meditative cycle, perching on a dry rock— Xiao may not mind wearing silk and kneeling in the grass, but Aether very much does— a short distance away and syncing his breaths with Xiao’s count.

Five in, seven out. Inhale. Exhale.

Bit by bit, Aether settles into the flow of the earth, until the chatter of birds overhead becomes the ringing in his ears and whispering breezes find a home in his lungs. Something rises in his chest— like a festival lantern over dark waters, carried on wings of playful wind. He breathes in, then out again, the pulse of his bond with Xiao keeping time. The strange sensation floats a little higher.

“Oh!”

Chongyun’s cry makes his eyes flutter back open, and he is greeted by the sight of the catalyst bobbing steadily over Chongyun’s outstretched hands.

“I can— feel it,” Chongyun says wonderingly.

Shaking off the momentary untethered feeling, Aether leaves his rock and trots over to where Xiao is inspecting Chongyun’s achievement. Even after all the time he’s spent in Teyvat, the small number of Vision holders means that seeing a catalyst in use is still a fairly rare occurrence. He’ll satisfy his curiosity where he can.

“…Well done,” Xiao says, rough, as if testing out the shape of the words in his mouth. “Now you must disperse and summon it again.”

“I— but what if I can’t…” Chongyun’s gaze flickers up to Xiao’s face, and the beginnings of his protest die out. “Right. Alright.”

His posture is strange— defeat and resistance and fear all rolled into one; and when his weapon vanishes, it is from between shaking fingers. Chongyun has never been bubbly, exactly. But seeing him like this, the way he’s been ever since they’d returned to the palace… Aether’s skin itches with the utter wrongness of it all.

Chongyun’s eyes slip shut and a grimace etches lines around his mouth as he focuses— but a hushed minute passes, then another, and the catalyst doesn’t reappear.

“Why do you chain yourself?” Xiao asks suddenly, and Aether slowly turns over the disbelief that has sprouted in their bond.

Chongyun startles. “I-I’m sorry, Vigilant Yaksha. I don’t understand—?”

“Your power is more than enough to command your weapon, and yet you chain its flow. Why? I will— not allow any harm to befall you should you release control.”

How Xiao can claim he does not care for mortals and yet say things like that, Aether still doesn’t know.

“I have to control myself,” Chongyun says. “I’ll only end up— causing trouble if I don’t.”

The disbelief intensifies.

“How do you expect to train and end the flares of your Vision if you do not practice that very thing?” Xiao softens a fraction, hesitates. “There are none here who will punish you for mistakes.”

Chongyun bends his head, but says nothing.

After a moment, Xiao sighs. “You say you carried a claymore. Can you not bring forth the catalyst with the same power as you would a blade?”

“I’m trying!” Chongyun bursts out, cowering the moment the words leave his mouth. “I’m trying, but… it’s not the same.”

“How did you summon it the first time?” Aether interjects gently.

“I… don’t know. Just, I thought of the way I’d seen Lady Ningguang call her catalyst before, but that’s not working now.”

Picturing Ningguang’s skill… is it because of her technique? Or rather…

“Xiao,” Aether says slowly. “Can you use a catalyst?”

“Of course.”

“Will you show Chongyun?”

Xiao tilts his head a little, but he doesn’t hesitate in summoning a bright circle of metal to hand. The weapon is a simple one, nothing like the intricacy of Chongyun’s catalyst or the Jade-Winged Spear, but Xiao still holds it with an air of familiarity. Aether raises a brow.

“How long have you had that?”

Xiao’s gaze goes distant. “I was… taught by one of the yaksha long ago. She gave it as a gift.”

Ah.

“What is it you wish me to do?”

It is a question that asks for an order, but though they’ve tested those limits, Aether hardly needs that sort of obedience from Xiao now. Quietly, he steps to Xiao’s side, careful not to shatter the filament of tension that has suddenly formed in the air between them.

“I’d like to prove to Chongyun that even the oldest and greatest exorcist in Liyue finds no shame in wielding a catalyst.”

For a moment, Xiao searches his face, and Aether reaches up to stroke a gentle thumb over his cheek. “But if you don’t want to, we can easily find another way.”

Xiao presses into Aether’s touch for the briefest of moments before stepping back from both him and Chongyun, weapon sparking to life. “That will be no challenge.”

Verdant winds flicker around Xiao’s legs and arms, and then he’s flying, twisting through the air as comfortably as if his feet had been planted on the ground. The catalyst dances between his hands, never appearing for more than a moment, always swallowed up by the next twitch of his elegant fingers.

Around them, the grass stirs in time with Xiao’s movements, and the mountain breezes curl almost affectionately over Aether’s hair and face. When he looks, he finds Xiao watching him with a burning gaze.

The floating sensation that had crept over him while meditating earlier returns in a rush, and his breath catches in his throat as his body and Heart both strain toward Xiao. He’s so close. If he could only hook his fingers into the wispy currents that swirl around him, then—

Then what?

Xiao spins high into the air, and with a sweep of his hands, unleashes a gale-force blast over the whole clearing, leaving Aether scrambling to keep his balance. There’s a soft thump behind him as Chongyun falls, and then Xiao is drifting back down, radiant with the unmistakable power of a divine.

Aether can feel the sudden weariness over the bond, of course, but Xiao hides it well, his steps controlled and sure.

He runs over, resisting the strange urge to kneel by Xiao’s feet, and instead hooks his arms around Xiao’s neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aether whispers, and Xiao shivers beneath his touch.

When Aether at least releases his hold and they both turn, it is to find Chongyun back on his feet, staring at Xiao— or maybe the both of them?— with wide eyes and parted lips.

“Well? What did you think?” Aether asks, careful to keep amusement from seeping into his voice.

“I…” Chongyun starts, gaze drifting down to his own hands. “Vigilant Yaksha, may I— may I see your catalyst again?”

Silently, Xiao spreads his hands, and the catalyst shimmers back into existence between them.

Closing his eyes, Chongyun copies the motion— and after a breathless moment, his weapon appears in a shower of silver. He takes a visible breath, cracks open one eye again, and—

The astonished excitement that creeps over his face is brighter than even the glow of the catalyst.

Xiao gives him a single, approving nod. “Again.”

And Chongyun does, bringing forth his weapon in one hand, then the other; with his eyes wide open, then as he sprints across the field. He spins with a bright shock of laughter, the catalyst rotating around him in the same movement before vanishing with an easy snap of his wrist.

He runs back to them, a faint sheen of exertion over his skin and the first true smile Aether has seen from him since they’d made it to the palace stretching over his face.

“I— I did it,” Chongyun gasps out. “I did it.”

“…Well done,” Xiao says quietly.

And Chongyun looks to him, expression filled with a hope that eclipses his earlier fear. “What should I do next?”

“That will be enough for today,” Xiao says after a considering moment. “You are reaching your limits. Finish with meditation.”

“…What?” Chongyun’s eagerness collapses into confusion. “But I can keep training, I’m not exhausted yet.”

Xiao frowns at him. “Your body is strong, but your core is weak. More than this and it will fail.”

Peering into Chongyun’s aura, all Aether’s diminished senses can catch is the blinding glow that had taken over after the curse had been lifted, and perhaps a faint hollowness, a gap to be refilled. Is that his core?

“I’m not at my limit yet,” Chongyun says stubbornly. “So I should keep going.”

“No. You will only damage yourself and delay any further training.”

“But…” Chongyun’s jaw clenches, and he turns away. “Alright.”

Aether allows his gaze to trail after Chongyun as the latter settles back in his original meditation spot. Despite the fight he’d put up, this sudden acquiescence feels just a little too easy, especially when Aether knows that he has trained to the point of debilitating injury before.

But there’s no point in confronting Chongyun about it now, so Aether returns to his own rock and slips into the breathing pattern. The air still seems to hum with the remnants of Xiao’s power, and Aether eagerly absorbs what he can, lungs burning with each slow inhale.

A faint dizziness overtakes him, the same sensation he’d felt when they’d started this whole exercise, and Aether sways in his seat, tugged to-and-fro by every tiny breeze. Guided by the memory of Xiao’s winds whispering affectionately around him, he runs the touch of his mind over a passing airy thread, and it slows—

Catches—

“Is this enough?” Chongyun asks, abrupt and loud, and Aether’s fragile sense of control snaps.

He has exactly enough time to register the whipping of wind over his hair and clothes as he flies— before his back is slamming into rough stone, breath and blood both punched from his lungs. Dazed, Aether takes a moment to remember his own name and parse the panicked cries ringing dissonantly in his ears. So much for keeping his robes clean.

A shadow falls over his eyes, and Aether dares to look up into Xiao’s blurred face.

“Ow," he rasps plaintively.

Xiao’s thumb lifts to wipe a drop of liquid from the corner of Aether’s mouth, and the touch is so warm, so soft compared to the stone beneath him, that Aether tries his best to chase after it. He’s stopped by the inevitable protest of his entire body.

“Aether,” Chongyun pleads, frantic, but Aether can’t muster the willpower needed to turn his head and look.

“Why did you do that?” Xiao asks roughly. His hands are still gentle over Aether’s face.

“Sorry,” Aether manages. “I— ugh. I could feel the winds for a moment, so— I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

“It is still far too early for you to be training the powers of my Heart,” Xiao says, and— oh.

So that’s what it was.

The soft thrum of healing begins to trickle from Xiao’s fingers down to Aether’s aching bones, and he sighs as the pain slowly drains away. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Slowly, Xiao gathers Aether against his chest, and Aether tucks his nose in beneath Xiao’s jaw the moment his stiff neck will allow him. Something wet oozes down the back of his scalp, and he can only assume it’s more blood. An assumption he confirms when Xiao lifts his fingers from the spot and Chongyun promptly whimpers.

They return to the palace in silence, and when they reach the entrance doors, Xiao pauses for a moment before pushing inside.

“Cloud Retainer.”

Aether stirs at the name. Cloud Retainer? Supposedly one of the first adepti to be contracted by Rex Lapis for the founding of Liyue Harbor?

“Ah, Xiao. It has been some time since one has last seen you.” Her voice is raspy and regal.

“Xiao?” And there’s Zhongli’s much more recognizable alarm. “What happened?”

“Aether was injured in an accidental attempt to use his new power,” Xiao says. “I am healing him, but Lord Rex, if you would…”

“Of course—” Zhongli starts, but Cloud Retainer interrupts.

“So, this is the vessel of your Heart? Bring him to my abode. The springs there will be most suitable for his recovery.”

“Thank you, Cloud Retainer,” Xiao murmurs, already turning around.

“Think nothing of it.”

Eyes still firmly closed against all light, Aether tunes an ear to the conversation fading away behind them.

“Who is this mortal that carries such a vivid mark of your favor, Rex Lapis?” Cloud Retainer inquires.

“Ah, yes. This is Chongyun, an exorcist of Liyue Harbor come to us through most unusual circumstances. I must ask you to treat him well…”

Heavy doors thunk shut and silence reigns once again, unbroken until they reach the very edge of the cliff that drops off outside the palace gates.

“So it was you she called,” Xiao says, and Aether strains to feel the divine presence before them.

“Indeed,” the new voice rumbles. “Though one was intrigued to hear that it was not your injuries in need of healing, this time.”

If his eyes had been open, Aether would have blinked stupidly. Is this adeptus… joking with Xiao?

Xiao sighs. “Thank you for coming, Moon Carver.”

Two of the legendary guardians of Jueyun Karst in one night… and yet Aether wonders how he hasn’t met any of them sooner, with all that’s happened so far.

“It is rare that one has the chance to assist you. Now, quickly secure yourselves so your Heart may heal sooner.”

And then Aether is being lifted up onto a horse-like back— or rather, what must be a deer’s back— and Xiao settles behind him, a warm, solid presence.

His body still aches when they launch into the sky. Oh well. It’s rare that obtaining some new power is this painful, but he’ll endure.

He always does.

Notes:

My best attempt at a hand Chongyun's sigil of permission!

Visit me on tumblr for more art and updates!

Chapter 30: Though the Winter Winds Blow

Notes:

Sorry guys, it's another short chapter, but I felt this was a good place to end it.

As announced on my tumblr, the update schedule for AIYCBYTK will officially be changing to once every two weeks until/unless I'm able to build up reserve chapters again.

And for better news, I'm thrilled to announce that this fic now has a beta! Thank you @Heart_of_a_Dragon for your help! I swear I'll get the whole chapter to you before post day someday >.<

TW: Ongoing panic for Chongyun, which could be counted as mild panic attacks.

When Aether wakes, it’s decidedly not in the rippling spring of water in which he’d lost consciousness. Instead, he seems to be tucked into the curve of some gentle warmth, like silk over hearthstones, while lazy healing energy sinks into his skin.

He opens his eyes to find his face near-pressed against a wall of dim golden scales and a heaving chest, and his questions are immediately answered.

Most of his questions, anyway. He still isn’t sure how he’d ended up in Zhongli’s nest like this, especially since Xiao doesn’t seem to be nearby.

Propping himself up on his arms, Aether peers around the faintly moonlit darkness, but the room is quiet and empty. He takes stock. Nighttime means he’s been asleep for a few hours at least, but for his injuries he’d endured, that’s not a worrying amount of time. His body feels… a little stiff, perhaps, but whole, and when Aether shifts experimentally, there’s no pain. Good.

Someone has untied his hair and allowed it to tumble down around his shoulders, and he’s wearing a simple, probably-black robe— it’s difficult to tell in the dark— with a loose wrap around the waist. He feels over the back of his head. All the blood he’d shed earlier seems to be gone, likely washed away in the spring.

Finally, Aether pokes at the bond and finds it simmering with a dim worry, but no panic or searching. So… Xiao must know where Aether is, and has simply chosen not to stay by his side for some unknown reason. Odd, but also not cause for frantically running out to find him just yet.

Everything is, apparently, fine— so why does he still feel so uneasy?

Wriggling away from Zhongli’s sleep-loose hold, Aether tiptoes his way out of the nest and into the dark hall beyond. Through the open balcony to the right, he can see fog drifting though the stone forest; feel the brush of cool air that again stirs the floating thing in his chest.

Hastily squashing that sensation down, Aether picks up his pace. It’s a beautiful, clear night— perfect for, say, a bit of extra training.

He desperately hopes he’s wrong as he cracks open the door to Chongyun’s room, just enough to peer inside, but sure enough, the bed is empty and the room is silent. There’s no point in checking anywhere else in the palace after that. If Chongyun is anywhere, it can only be…

Bursting out the front gates, Aether heads straight for the narrow, winding path down to the training ground. At this elevation, even the faint night breezes nip at Aether’s exposed skin, but he’d rather not go back for another robe now. Careful to keep his steps light over the scattered cliffside gravel, Aether makes it to the plateau without incident and pushes past a few bushes into the field beyond.

In a way, the sight is ethereal.

Chongyun stands as the centerpiece of a hundred twisted, frozen spires, a king uncrowned, his legs buried in ice and his catalyst refracting cold light across the ground. Snow dances in sharp flurries, ebbing and flowing with each of Chongyun’s gasping breaths. Over the grass is a ring of frost, the same color as Chongyun’s glowing eyes, a ring that grows larger the longer Chongyun struggles.

Bright power flows unchecked across the plateau, a force so strong that even Aether can feel it. It’s not as if he’d doubted the adepti’s description of Chongyun’s particular ability, but to see it for himself is…

It’s mesmerizing. If only it wasn’t also laced with Chongyun’s agony.

“Chongyun,” Aether calls, steady, and Chongyun’s head snaps up.

“Aether? Why are you— you can’t be here. I’m— it’s not safe!” The frost crackles louder.

“It’s alright, Chongyun,” Aether says as soothingly as he can. Slowly, he picks his way closer, ignoring the way his toes go numb through the thin slippers he hadn’t thought to change. “Let me just call Xiao over.”

“No!” A crack in his voice almost erases the word. “Please, if he knows I— no, I can handle it.”

Aether’s chest aches. “Xiao isn’t going to hurt you, you know. I promise.”

“But I…” Chongyun seems to shake himself, and the spines of ice shift with the movement. “Please go back, Aether. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Hurt him again? Aether tries to think of a time Chongyun has hurt him at all.

“…Alright, I won’t call Xiao. But I can’t just leave you like this.”

Chongyun yelps when Aether begins to weave his way through the spines of ice to reach him. “Please, you have to get away from me. I— I’m broken, I can’t—”

“No, you’re not. All you need is a little more practice. Gentle practice,” Aether adds after a moment. He lays a hand over Chongyun’s heart. “How did Xiao and Ganyu help you calm your Vision before?”

“Aether—”

“What do I need to do?” Aether meets Chongyun’s flickering gaze.

“…I— don’t know,” Chongyun says at last. “They just made everything quiet.”

“Quiet?”

Aether fights the urge to scramble back as the ice around Chongyun’s body begins to overtake his feet as well. He’ll have to work a little faster.

A tiny, helpless sound is Chongyun’s only answer.

“So, if I do this…” Aether reaches out, slow and careful, and Chongyun’s eyes slip shut before his hand can even cover them. Chongyun’s trust is reassuring, at least. Aether will do his best to live up to it.

Without whatever power Xiao and Ganyu had used to suppress Chongyun’s Vision, there’s no particular reason for Aether to use the same hand placements as Xiao. But instinct tells him this will be good way to steady Chongyun, with now-familiar motions that he might associate with calm.

“Can you breathe with me?”

Chongyun’s breath continues to hitch, but Aether keeps up his own even inhale and exhale, allowing the sound to brush past Chongyun’s ear. Bit by bit, with fading gasps and soft hiccups, Chongyun slips into Aether’s rhythm, his body falling slack as the ice around him stops its spread. It doesn’t yet recede, and Aether is still imprisoned up to the thigh, but the most important part is that Chongyun has managed to relax.

“Thank you,” Aether murmurs, feeling the tremble under Chongyun’s skin as he lifts his hand from dim, exhausted eyes. “It’s alright. You can rest for a while.”

Almost instantly, Chongyun’s head tips forward onto Aether’s shoulder, and Aether pulls him in as close as the surrounding ice will allow.

“Why did you come out here?” he asks, gentle.

“…I have to train,” Chongyun says dully. “I have to do better.”

“Even though you might hurt yourself if you keep pushing your body like this?”

“It doesn’t matter. As long as I can learn how to keep this… this thing…”

This thing… his Vision?

“That is important, yes,” Aether says slowly. “But there’s no need to rush like this, and you have Xiao and Ganyu to teach you.”

Chongyun is silent for a while. “I’m only troubling them, when the first exorcist and the keeper of the Qixing shouldn’t have to put up with someone like me. I’m taking up space in Rex Lapis’s court and forcing him to go out of his way to keep me safe. I’m such a danger to Liyue that I can’t even visit Xingqiu. I hurt you. I don’t want to be— a burden like this any longer.”

…As if Ganyu doesn’t love to take care of others, especially those as sweet as Chongyun, as if Xiao isn’t ready to teach and intrigued by Chongyun’s unusual power, as if Zhongli isn’t thrilled to have another person to fill his empty palace. But all that aside—

“I don’t understand. How have you hurt me?”

Chongyun lifts his head. “When— when we were meditating. I broke your concentration, and you…”

Ah.

“Chongyun, that was hardly your fault,” Aether says, catching him by the shoulders. “Even I didn’t know what I was doing. It was all an accident, and I’m fine now.”

“…But I was complaining, and ignoring the Vigilant Yaksha’s instructions, and trying to—”

Aether takes a deep breath. “Do you— do you always blame yourself this way?”

Chongyun looks away. “No, I just…”

Grip tightening a little, Aether forces his voice to remain steady. “The others said you had cursed yourself.”

Meeting Chongyun’s eyes is like staring into the depths of an empty vessel.

“You can’t take on everyone’s trouble as your own.” And Aether is such a terrible hypocrite, but— “You’re only going to destroy yourself.”

Chongyun doesn’t respond, and for a long while they just stand there in their little domain of ice and snow, the whispering of the night wind doing all the talking for them. Aether tries to hide a shiver as the cold sinks under his skin, but close as they are, it would’ve been almost impossible for Chongyun not to notice.

“I’m sorry, Aether,” Chongyun groans, and Aether apologetically strokes a hand through his frost-stiffened hair.

“May I call Xiao to come help us?”

Chongyun hesitates. Looks down at the ice wrapped around Aether’s legs. Opens his mouth. Hesitates again.

“I know there were stories about him, back in Liyue Harbor,” Aether murmurs. “And I don’t know how the Liu clan views him. But I can promise Xiao won’t be angry with you.”

“That’s not…” Chongyun starts, but whatever his unsteady protest was meant to be, it dies out quickly. “…Alright.” His head bends low.

It’s likely to be the most enthusiastic agreement Aether will ever receive from him.

Tipping his head up to the sky, Aether breathes his prayer out over the next passing gust. “Xiao.”

It is the work of a moment for his call to be captured by wind and shadow, carried along to Xiao’s ear before Aether can even finish his exhale. His borrowed Heart flutters with a subdued alarm, and then Xiao is plunging from the palace and cliff above, landing in a spiral of fleeting darkness.

Save for his sharp intake of breath, Xiao says nothing as he nimbly leaps up the spires of Chongyun’s ice prison, hand reaching out to cup Aether’s face when he reaches the peak.

“I’m alright, Xiao,” Aether says, leaning into the searing warmth of his touch. “But we could use a little help.”

Xiao casts a long look at Chongyun, the latter quailing beneath it, but a gentle, summery breeze soon begins to stir around them.

“What is it that you attempted?” Xiao asks Chongyun, and Chongyun’s already hunched shoulders rise even higher. Ice crackles.

“I… only wanted to copy what you had shown me earlier.”

A frown settles over Xiao’s face. “A meaningless effort when the powers of anemo and cryo simply cannot be compared. Moreover, your energy is that of yang where I bear yin. You have other strengths.”

“…I apologize for disappointing you, Vigilant Yaksha,” Chongyun says, and his voice— his voice has turned dull and empty; all the passion of his earlier protests, and even his fear of mere moments ago, completely wiped away.

For a flickering moment, Aether is reminded of the dark, shrouded room he’d seen deep in the underbelly of the Liu estate, and suddenly the cold in his chest has nothing to do with Chongyun’s power.

“Xiao,” Aether says, soft and a little pleading as he pushes what he can of his fear across the bond.

With a sigh, Xiao reaches out, waits through Chongyun’s flinch and return, and places a gentle hand over Chongyun’s sternum. “You must learn to trace the flow of your own energy. Here.”

Carefully, Aether leans against Xiao’s arm to tap into the push and pull of his familiar strength, and to taste the elusive sweetness of a new power, one that drifts like snow on stormy winds. Chongyun’s eyes press shut as Xiao corrals his overflowing energy with an efficient touch, and when Aether at last draws back, it is to find the ice around his legs crumbling away into nothing.

“Good,” Xiao says as he releases his hold over Chongyun, and Aether promptly launches himself into Xiao’s arms. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say collapsed, given how his shivering limbs almost refuse to hold him up. Either way, Xiao is warm and strong, and Aether eagerly nuzzles into the scar-roughened skin just below his collarbone.

“Aether.” Comes Xiao’s soft rumble, and the sound sweeps through his body like fire.

“Thank you, Xiao.”

“Thank you, Vigilant Yaksha,” Chongyun echoes, subdued, and Aether lifts his head to watch him.

Chongyun swaying dangerously where he stands, and though some light has returned to his eyes, he still looks nothing but miserable. And of course he does. It will be the work of more than just one night to convince him that he is wanted here.

“I can walk,” Aether says immediately, and after a considering pause, Xiao releases him and turns to Chongyun instead.

“I will carry you back to the palace.”

Chongyun’s eyes go wide. “There’s— there’s no need to trouble yourself, Vigilant Yaksha. I can manage.”

“I am certain you can,” Xiao says slowly, evenly. Perhaps testing the strength of his own words. “Allow me to assist you regardless.”

“Please, Vigilant Yaksha. I won’t hold you back, I promise.” Clear panic rises in Chongyun’s voice as he takes a step back—

Stumbles—

Unerring, Xiao darts in and slips an arm behind his back to right him, remaining only long enough to ensure Chongyun is steady before returning to his previous polite distance.

Chongyun stares at him, body still rigid with the tension of his near-fall.

“Allow me to carry you,” Xiao repeats, and Aether can almost see the slow caving of Chongyun’s expression.

Xiao scoops him up in one swift motion, and Chongyun rests in his arms with all the ease of a petrified log. Aether desperately wants to reassure him, but what more can he offer that he has not already said? In the end, real trust in Xiao— and all the other divines in this place— can only come from Chongyun himself.

--

Their return to the palace is swift, and once they’ve stepped from the night chill into the blessedly warm halls, a new thought strikes, though Aether is hardly sure it’s a good one.

“Hey… Xiao. And Chongyun.” He speaks up hesitantly. “Why don’t we go to Zhongli?”

“…To Lord Rex?” Xiao doesn’t seem immediately horrified, at least. “Why?”

“To sleep, I suppose.” Aether casts about for a way to explain himself. “It should be comfortable there, with Zhongli’s… presence.” Because though an ancient and powerful Archon he may be, at his core he is steady as stone, faithful as a mountain.

“I’ve already done too much,” Chongyun says. “I can’t bother Rex Lapis as well.”

“You wouldn’t be bothering him,” Aether counters at the same time Xiao says, “Lord Rex has brought you into his favor. He would not be troubled by your presence.”

Chongyun is silent.

“Will you at least come greet him?” Aether tries. He receives a very slow nod in return.

“That’s all we need.”

Aether does his best to quell the remaining shivers as he leads the way down the hall to Zhongli’s room, breathes a sigh of relief when the brush of dragonfire-warm air meets his skin.

“Welcome back,” Zhongli rumbles, sleep clinging to his voice. “I trust all is well, now?”

Aether clambers into the nest, and Xiao sets Chongyun down beside.

“Well enough,” Aether replies carefully. “Zhongli… would you mind if the three of us spent the rest of the night here?”

Zhongli opens one enormous amber eye, and Chongyun makes a bitten-off noise.

“Hmm? Of course you are always welcome here, but might I ask the reason why?”

“Chongyun is… worried—” Aether starts, but is almost instantly cut off by a sharp yank on the sleeve of his robe. When he looks down, it’s to see Chongyun’s hand trembling so strongly that he’s ready to believe that the yank had been entirely accidental. He relents.

“It was cold outside, and I thought we could all use some extra warmth.”

Zhongli studies the two of them for a moment, gentle and thoughtful, before sweeping his tail aside and beckoning them in.

Aether eagerly tumbles forward into the oven-warm curve of Zhongli’s body, pressing his icy fingers to the scales there and practically melting against them. At the edge of the nest, Chongyun has shuffled a tiny step closer, and Zhongli lifts his tail to nudge him all the way in.

Aether catches Chongyun before he can fall, and Chongyun clings to him like a man adrift at sea. Releasing his hold on Zhongli’s scales, Aether carefully tugs Chongyun around until they are back-to-chest, Chongyun facing out toward Zhongli while Aether— hopefully— remains a grounding presence behind.

“I’m sorry, Rex Lapis, I never—” Chongyun’s babbling is stopped by an earth-shaking hum.

“Peace, Chongyun. What is it that brings you such unease?”

There is little force behind the command and question, but Aether still shivers. Across the great expanse of worlds, there is hardly a shortage of divine creatures, himself and Lumine included, but Zhongli remains perhaps one of the most breathtaking he’s met thus far. Chongyun certainly seems to be staggered by his words.

“I have breathed upon you the blessing of stone, of this land,” Zhongli says, gentle, yet unwavering. “You have nothing to fear from us.”

Chongyun breathes. “I apologize, Rex Lapis.” His voice is barely a whisper. “When you agreed to take me in, I didn’t think… I never meant to cause you so much trouble.”

“Child,” Zhongli murmurs, and his voice is the soft flush of morning, the kiss of a timeless breeze. “Truly, there is no trouble you could bring that would compare to the many calamities we have endured across the ages. Be at ease. Your presence here with us is a greater boon than you know.”

Apparently struck, Chongyun stares up at him; lifts his hand slow and trance-like when Zhongli reaches for it.

“Rest, Chongyun,” Zhongli croons, snout pressed to Chongyun’s small wrist. Pressed to the gold of the sigil.

And then Chongyun is being tucked firmly into the joint of massive jaw and sturdy neck, curled like a treasure into Zhongli’s warm hold. Aether follows, resting against Chongyun’s exposed side and holding on tight when Chongyun’s hand clasps in a death grip around his.

Outside the next, Xiao makes a soft hmpf of what Aether knows to be approval, and he calls out before Xiao can turn away.

“Won’t you join us?”

Xiao’s eyes glow in the shadows. “…I have no need of sleep.”

Aether resists the urge to sigh a little. “I know, and you don’t have to. But you can still rest for a while.”

Still Xiao hesitates, and that— that is a surprise, after all that he’d seemed to have grown comfortable with Aether’s touch.

“It would be best for me to keep my distance,” Xiao says at last, and Aether stares at him. “I cannot hurt you further.”

First Chongyun, and now Xiao? “What makes you think you’ve hurt me?” Aether asks helplessly.

“As your strength returns…” Xiao’s eyes flicker restlessly. “My Heart will resonate with you when I draw upon its power, and you do not yet have the skill to control that reflection.”

…It truly was Chongyun then Xiao.

“Xiao.” Aether reaches out to him. “That last incident was just my own carelessness. I’ll at least be able to suppress the resonance until you can teach me how to properly wield your power.”

“And do not forget,” Zhongli adds after a moment of Xiao’s silence. “ That I will be here no matter what comes.”

It is apparently the last reassurance Xiao needed to hear.

With careful movements, he comes to join Aether among the sea of pillows and blankets, leaning against Zhongli’s side and resting his fingers in Aether’s hair. It feels good, steady and gentle as Xiao always is with him. Aether leans into the touch.

Slowly, slowly, moonlight sinks across the windows, the darkness around them thinning, then settling once more. Clouds drape over the sky, plunging them into a night broken only by the shine of Xiao’s eyes.

Chongyun’s breaths even out, then ease, and at last turn to the deep rhythms of sleep, his wrist held close against his chest as Zhongli’s exhales stir his hair. Even after he falls asleep though, Aether doesn’t let go his hand, and Chongyun’s fingers remain loosely tangled with his.

There’s something cool and clean about the air here, and Aether vaguely recognizes it as the power he’d felt from Chongyun on the plateau before. Combined with the golden presence of an Archon, it tugs Aether along toward the darkness of dreams, whispering of safety. Of peace.

With a tiny sound, Aether presses further into Xiao’s grasp, the only place his nightmares are held at bay— and allows himself to fall.

 

--

 

“Good morning,” Zhongli greets when Aether drags his eyelids open to find the mist-filtered morning light.

“Good morning, Zhongli,” Aether offers in a rasp. His bond with Xiao tugs, wanting, and after a startled moment, he tips his head up to allow Xiao’s kiss upon his temple. It is a very good morning. The only thing left is…

“Good morning, Chongyun,” Zhongli repeats, softer, and Chongyun’s head slowly lifts.

The faintly red impressions of a few scales swoop across his cheek, and his pale skin is flushed with a healthy warmth. It’s only seeing him like this that Aether realizes Chongyun must always have been cold.

With a little shake of his body, Chongyun props himself up— looks Zhongli in the eye— lifts his hand in a fleeting touch over Zhongli’s snout—

“Good— good morning, Rex Lapis,” he says, the words hesitant, but steady.

And Aether breathes again. It seems Chongyun has found his trust after all.

Notes:

I got my beautiful Chalk Prince on second pity and the ever-elusive Diluc on first, so I am thriving rn. I wish you all a very early-gold 2.3 patch as well!

Check out my tumblr for occasional art and updates!
<3

Chapter 31: Take Flight

Notes:

I'm exhausted with a busy weekend ahead, so here's your mostly un-edited fic a little early. Thank you once again to Heart_of_a_Dragon for making this thing postable at all! When I have more time, I'll come back and run through it again to catch any awkward spots.

I hope any of you students out there are coming out of Hell Week as passably unscathed as me.

TW: Some d/s interaction and discussion near the end of the chapter.

The days after Chongyun finds his place in Lord Rex’s court begin to settle into something of a rhythm. One that Xiao cannot help but find both easy and unsettling.

Mornings are spent in the dining hall, Ganyu joining them more often than not, and even the guardians of Jueyun Karst occasionally passing through. When Xiao isn’t quietly listening to the chatter around the table, he eats slivers of— almond tofu from Aether’s fingers, forcing himself to adapt to the lingering sweetness and texture on his tongue.

The others always seem unusually intent upon their own meals while Xiao eats, and though it is unnecessary, he is… appreciative of their courtesy. After spending so many centuries unable to consume mortal foods, he is likely to make unpleasant mistakes before learning how best to approach this new difficulty.

Noon hours take them to the gardens or the fields below the palace, where they rest and train in turn. Chongyun’s dedication to his practice is admirable, but excessive for a mortal, and Aether insists upon breaks even more often than Xiao.

Chongyun learns to call his weapon, to keep hold of his Vision through elemental overflows while one of the adepti returns his control, to meditate with Aether’s perfect tides of breath, and to dance, following the steps of Ganyu’s sharp bow work and the leaping turns of Xiao’s catalyst forms.

He takes well to all their lessons but one— commanding the power of his Vision by his own will.

Xiao’s failure of instruction is one thing, but even Ganyu and Lord Rex are unable to coax out his elemental flow. Despite his undeniable skill in all other areas, Chongyun seems entirely unable to refine his control, shifting from no reaction to explosive power by turns.

The delay is of little concern to Xiao and Ganyu— what do immortals have if not time?— but Chongyun’s increasing frustration is clear.

Evenings— and days without training— are quiet. Lord Rex continues to call Xiao for simple lessons in healing, and soon Aether is asking if Xiao could perhaps heal the nicks and bruises of Chongyun’s various attempts to grow stronger. Xiao very nearly refuses… but of course, Aether neither begs nor commands, only lays a soothing touch upon Xiao’s arm and promises his help should Xiao agree.

Aether’s desires are Xiao’s own. He gives in.

At the final meal of the day, the four of them do not always eat together, but Aether seems intent on ensuring Chongyun never eats alone. It is during those quiet times of companionship, Aether and Chongyun together, that Xiao has the opportunity to watch stiffness melt from Chongyun’s shoulders, study the softening light in his eyes.

Does Aether have such a gentling effect upon all creatures of this world? Certainly, Xiao has long been tamed by it.

After darkness falls, exhaustion soon forces Chongyun and Aether to rest— but the divisions of their rooms no longer seem to decide the place in which they sleep. Some nights, Chongyun will curl up in his own sheets, Aether wrapped protectively around him while Xiao watches over them both. Others, they will sprawl out of the expanse of Aether and Xiao’s bed, where Aether will lay his head upon Xiao’s lap and Chongyun may hook his fingers in the hem of Xiao’s long sleeve. Still others, they will gather in the warmth of Lord Rex’s nest; and sheltered by his Archon and Chongyun’s pure aura, even Xiao may doze a little.

It is always Aether or Chongyun who lead the way to each night’s place of rest, and though Xiao does not know how they choose, he is content to follow.

Once the sun rises above the mountains, the cycle begins anew, peaceful and dripping with light. And yet…

Xiao still watches and waits, watches and waits. Will he ever be rid of this meaningless fear?

 

--

 

“Xiao, will you fetch me that container on the top shelf there?” Aether calls, attention clearly fixed upon the massive pot before him.

Following the point of Aether’s finger, Xiao finds the box, wood simply inscribed with the word “herbs,” and reaches up for it. His claws brush the side of the shelf but remain a fingersbreadth short of grasping the box itself. With a huff, he leaps atop the lower counter— where a yelp from behind makes him pause.

He finds Chongyun staring up at him, jaw slack, and Aether turned away from the stove to watch, a quiet… amusement? tugging at his lips and the bond.

Box in hand, Xiao returns his feet to the ground and passes it to Aether. Sudden unease prickles in his chest. “Was that… incorrect?”

“No,” Aether says after a moment, pressing a kiss over Xiao’s jaw. “Not at all. Thank you, Xiao.” He sprinkles a pinch of the box’s contents into the pot, and Xiao watches carefully.

“Chongyun, if you could chop three or four of the carrots from the basket…”

“Oh— uh, yes!” Chongyun’s eyes flick away from Xiao, and he darts across the kitchen, movements strangely jerky and graceless.

Soon the pot is full and bubbling, and while Aether clatters about the counter, pouring tea and laying out utensils, Xiao and Chongyun retreat to the nearby kitchen table. As always when they are left alone, Chongyun does not speak, and Xiao returns the favor. But the air around them is not suffocating, merely… solemn, perhaps. Placid.

A satisfied noise from the other side of the room tugs at Xiao’s attention.

“I’ve made a new blend, but I’m not quite sure about the balance of flavors… it should at least be different from the mixes I’ve used before,” Aether announces as he carries a full tray over to the table. “Try it and tell me what you think?”

They each receive a cup, and fragrant steam meets Xiao’s nose as he carefully brings it to his lips. Five times now, he has been offered Aether’s tea, and yet he has only been able to drink twice. Perhaps this time…? The bitterness of leaf and something sharp bursts over his senses, and Xiao quickly releases the cup to tuck his nose against Aether’s soft skin.

“Ah, not this one, then? I’m sorry, Xiao.” Aether lays one hand over Xiao’s hair, taking the teacup with the other, and Xiao allows the honey sunshine of Aether’s scent to soothe the churn of his stomach.

Eating is easier now, but even so, his body finds ways to rebel.

Across the table, Chongyun’s expression draws tight as he stares into his cup for a moment before nudging it away. “Thank you, Aether, but… I think I’ll just have water today.”

And that marks the third time Chongyun has been offered Aether’s tea, the third rejection of what Xiao now understands is Aether’s perfect skill, the third pitiful excuse he has given in return. Xiao very nearly reaches for his own cup again, as if his effort could somehow compensate for anything— but then, Aether had insisted Xiao never suffer in his attempts to eat…

“Ah…” Aether’s body does not move, nor does his face change, but Xiao can feel the sting of something small and clouded all the same. “Of course. Let me just change it out, then.”

Sweeping all three untouched teacups back onto their tray, Aether quietly empties them out into the washing basin before returning with a single glass of water instead.

Why does Chongyun continue to refuse Aether’s gifts? His body does not reject food the way Xiao’s does, and he seems to eat of every meal laid before him. It cannot be because it is Aether bringing him the tea either, not when Chongyun turns to him for comfort and guidance at all other times.

Chongyun murmurs his thanks, fingers tight around the glass as he takes a sip, and it’s not long before he sets it aside entirely. When Aether moves, Chongyun’s gaze chases after him, wavering on the brink of some unknown trouble— but he remains silent.

“You said Zhongli wanted to see you after this, right?” Aether asks, pushing a bowl across the table to him.

“Mm.” Chongyun picks up his spoon and drags it through the soup, idle. “I’m not sure… he never told me why, though.”

“I’m sure it will be fine.”

This is not a day in which Xiao must make an attempt to eat, so he merely watches while Aether and Chongyun start in on their meal. Or rather, while Aether starts. Now that Xiao is paying attention, it is obvious that Chongyun is only picking at his food, occasionally lifting the empty spoon to his lips and stirring until steam has long stopped rising from the bowl. Only then does he proceed to truly eat.

Even now, Xiao knows little of mortal foods, but surely the cooling of a meal intended to be eaten hot cannot be pleasant.

Has the boy always done this, unnoticed by even Aether and Lord Rex? But no, Xiao finds clear memories of Chongyun immediately, unmistakably eating of foods set before him. What sets apart this soup— and the tea before it— must then be…

“Ready to go?” Aether asks into the stillness, and Chongyun stands with a nod.

Xiao’s musings are pushed aside as he follows Chongyun’s nervous steps to the great hall, where Lord Rex’s aura pulses golden.

He looks up from something on the ground before him when Chongyun bows his way through the doors. “Ah, excellent timing. Come in.”

Xiao studies the floorboards as he passes over them toward Lord Rex. A great geometrical array is etched into the wood, glowing with an Archon’s power, and the patterns suggest it to be a barrier, perhaps, or a benign cage. For the moment, however, its power remains mute and untouched.

When Xiao looks up, he finds Aether also inspecting the ground, a quiet curiosity humming through the bond as his eyes trace down the lines.

“What did you need me for, Rex Lapis?” Chongyun asks then, and Zhongli extends a hand to him.

“You have been with us for some time now, and Xiao and Ganyu have brought favorable reports of your progress in training. I decided it would be a suitable time to test whether you may return to Liyue Harbor.” Zhongli smiles.

Hmm. Though Chongyun would be unable to effectively use his Vision for anything, he is now more than skilled enough to keep it controlled and quiet, and the natural blanket of his aura will do no harm to those who must not be harmed. Whatever trial Lord Rex has planned, Xiao does not doubt Chongyun will pass.

Chongyun, however, stills. “Favorable… I’m sorry Rex Lapis, but I don’t think I’m ready yet. I still haven’t been able to complete the exercises Xiao and Ganyu gave me.”

Lord Rex listens attentively to Chongyun’s denial, but shakes his head once Chongyun has finished. “The danger you pose to others and your ability to make practical use of your Vision are not necessarily tied to one another. But we shall see. Now, if you will step forward for a moment?”

Chongyun does so, with far less hesitation than the last time Lord Rex had asked it of him, and Lord Rex lays two fingers upon Chongyun’s brow. “Release.”

There is a moment of silence. Then the air plunges to the cold of snow as Chongyun staggers back, hands already shooting up to where his Vision is tucked into his robes.

“Haah…”

Eyes closed, shoulders hunched, Chongyun breathes through the fading of Lord Rex’s seal, and Xiao watches his aura as it floods over with the shine of Chongyun’s soul alone.

No ice bursts from the ground and no frost attempts to creep over Xiao’s skin. Chongyun straightens.

“What…”

“I have undone the seal that I placed over your power the day we broke your curse,” Lord Rex murmurs, “and you remain stable and focused without it. Well done. I see no reason you should be forbidden from the harbor any longer.”

Chongyun stares up at him, then down at his hands and back again. “I can… go back?”

“Whenever you wish.”

Conflict stirs on Chongyun’s face, but after a moment, a soft smile breaks out. “Then I want to see Xingqiu again.”

“Done,” Lord Rex says, voice filled with something warm and gentle.

Fond. The word seeps across from Aether’s side of the bond, less than a thought, and Xiao tucks the sensation away into his Heart. Feels Aether offer a pulse of it in return.

“There is also a matter I wish to address with Aether, but if you are intent upon returning to Liyue Harbor right away, it can easily be postponed.”

Aether startles up. “With me?”

Lord Rex smiles at him. “Indeed. You have been gaining strength just as quickly as Chongyun after all, albeit in a rather different way.”

With slowly widening eyes, Aether’s gaze returns to the array on the floor. “…This is for training, then? A confining seal?”

“Correct.” Lord Rex sounds pleased. “But before we continue… Chongyun?”

Chongyun quickly shakes his head “No, I can wait. Besides, Xingqiu won’t be expecting me, and it’s already a little late for a trip.”

“Tomorrow, then,” Lord Rex says decisively. “I will ensure my duties are complete so I may accompany you.”

With a visible breath, Chongyun sets his shoulders. “Thank you, Rex Lapis.”

“It is my pleasure.”

With that, Lord Rex turns to the head of the array, where the final few lines seem incomplete. “Chongyun, if you would please step to the side there. And Xiao, you will need to join Aether in the pattern’s center.”

Confused, Xiao dares to hesitate, and Lord Rex gestures kindly. “You are half of his strength, after all.”

Ah.

Under Lord Rex’s instructions, Xiao sits back-to-back with Aether, aligned with the points of the array, and reaches for the shimmering flow of the bond to calm himself. If Aether does not fear elemental backlash this time, then Xiao will trust him.

“Reach for your Heart,” Lord Rex murmurs, “and connect your power. When you are ready, please pour your energy into the net of this array, and I will be there to guide it should you need me.”

Against his back, Xiao can feel Aether’s slow inhale, followed by a familiar tug in the hollow of his chest as Aether touches his Heart.

Xiao.

The sweet, wordless call rings in Xiao’s ears, and he sinks into himself, into the bond, where Aether is attempting to filter through the strands of wind and night that tangle there. Xiao catches a fluttering end to place in Aether’s hand, and for a moment, they simply rest in the middle of themselves, cradled by the stars of Aether’s soul.

Watch me?

So Xiao remains there, attention never wavering as Aether sings for the air, a storm of anemo rising to his command. Lord Rex’s array contains much of what slips from Aether’s control, and Xiao takes the rest, bending the power to his will and turning it back toward Aether.

It is simple as it is difficult, and yet Aether soon begins to shift his grasp on the elements, allowing the winds to twist and redirect around open fingers. Good. Pride swells in Xiao’s Heart, and Aether must be able to sense it, because his efforts swiftly redouble, the chimes of anemo resonating with his will.

“Well done.” Comes the distant echo of Lord Rex’s voice.

With a fluttering kiss from Aether’s soul, Xiao opens his eyes to the mortal plane again, where a glowing storm churns harmlessly around them all. It is bright and lovely— everything Xiao’s power is not, and yet…

The storm is his strength bent through Aether’s hands.

“I… did it,” Aether murmurs then, and Xiao breaks formation to look at him. “I did it.”

The silvery currents around them remain as Aether slowly stands, then steps out of the seal. He breathes, in and out. Then turns to meet Xiao’s gaze.

“How do I stop it?”

Instead of stumbling words, Xiao merely reaches for Aether’s hand to fold his fingers in one by one, coaxing Aether’s power away alongside. The breezes fade with every motion until the air is still once again. Aether’s eyes shine.

“I think I understand now.” Almost wildly, Aether swings around to where Lord Rex and Chongyun stand. “Can we continue this outside? I want… I feel…”

“Certainly,” Lord Rex nods, and with a flick of his hand, the doors of the great hall burst open ahead of Aether’s darting steps.

Xiao chases after with equal speed until they burst through the gates and out to the cliffside beyond. At the precipice, Aether comes to a halt, and he reaches out for Xiao as a falling adeptus would reach for a last fragment of hope.

“Will you fly with me?” Aether asks, breathless, and Xiao would not let the gods themselves stop him from following his Heart.

“Always.”

And Aether jumps.

They fall hand in hand, the wind and Chongyun’s cry howling around them as they plunge toward the river far below. But the sky is Xiao’s home, and Aether was born of the stars; and they are together, together, together. There is nothing to fear in this place.

Aether’s unbound delight rings through the air, and then the breath of Jueyun Karst comes to whirl around him, eager to serve the one who so understands its soul. When his fall slows, Xiao slows with him, and when he instead lifts his eyes skyward to rise, it is only natural for Xiao to fall into place behind.

Their weightless dance takes them back up the cliff, where Aether swoops and dives freely, despite his position far above the mountains. But why should he be afraid? Even if his strength were to fail, the playful winds would catch him— and if those were to betray him, Xiao will always be by his side.

With a sweeping turn, Aether eclipses the sun, and Xiao is blinded by the halo that comes to shine around him. It is a kiss of gold and brilliance; a manifestation, perhaps, of the power that had saved Xiao from his certain fall. He wants and wants—

Straining up toward his Heart, Xiao’s hands are immediately caught in Aether’s, and he very nearly cries out at the warmth that floods his body.

“I used to have wings, did you know?” Aether says, soft. “And now…”

And for an instant, Xiao can see them, the feathers of light that must have carried Aether between worlds, blades cut with stars and blood and time. The vision fades, leaving behind only vivid filaments of anemo, but for Xiao, it is enough to understand. He knows far too well what is means to be chained to the dark earth.

“Thank you, Xiao.” There are tears in Aether’s eyes, and Xiao thoughtlessly leans in to kiss them away. A bright glow from beneath the collar of Aether’s robe catches his attention, and Xiao pauses to see—

Those veins of light Aether had earned upon becoming one with Xiao’s Heart, faded with time, are ablaze once more, the colors of anemo trickling down his neck to pool at his chest.

Xiao touches a line. Drags his finger with it down the length of Aether’s throat.

Aether whimpers, but before Xiao can snatch his hand back, he is tipping his chin up, eyelids dropping as he bares himself to Xiao’s sharp-clawed touch.

A chime of distantly familiar laughter shatters the moment, and when Xiao casts out his senses, it is to find the traces of the Great Wind, the one whose rule has allowed Aether to regain his flight at all.

“Lord Barbatos is here,” Xiao says, and after a startled moment, Aether draws back, gaze slipping to the side as an abashed smile overtakes his expression.

“Ah. Well, I suppose he would be watching us now.”

They alight again on the cliffside, and Lord Rex and Chongyun must have returned to the palace, for the field is quiet and empty when they land. On the way back, Aether’s steps flicker verdant, as if his feet are only just keeping to the ground; as if even the slightest gust could whisk him away.

As if his bond with Xiao is his first and last tie to the earth.

Together, they weave their way through the halls to the room where three auras blaze— two divine and one very nearly— but before Xiao can push open the door, he is halted by Aether’s fingers catching in his sleeve. He turns.

Aether’s eyes are wide and bright, too bright, the usual gold warped with iridescent winds. Too late, Xiao realizes the slow, but unceasing churn of his Heart— Aether’s earlier euphoria tipped just out of his control.

“I’m sorry, Xiao. I think I need…”

Xiao cannot stop the soft growl that escapes his throat, but punishment for his own inattention must come later. “Tell me, Aether.”

“I’m sorry,” Aether repeats, and then he is slipping neatly to the ground, head landing against the side of Xiao’s knee.

For a moment, Xiao feels as if Lord Rex’s petrification has crackled up his limbs. He has held Aether’s will in his hands before, true, but— that had only been for the sake of easing Lord Rex’s mind, for testing the flow of their bond. Aether is the one with Xiao’s Heart. So why—

His hands fall to Aether’s hair because it is natural, because he must; but beyond that, he has no direction.

“Aether?” He whispers, helpless, useless, but all he receives is a soft whine in response.

Grounded. Aether must be grounded, if Xiao’s fleeting observations are to be trusted— but what can he do to help? When he finds himself untethered, how does he settle once more?

…He never has settled himself, Xiao realizes as something heavy sinks to his stomach. With Saizhen, it did not matter where his thoughts were as long as he could still fight, and when it was important, Saizhen would simply use pain to force him back to the moment. Under Lord Rex, he frequently lost himself, but none had known or seemed to care unless Xiao came too close to hurting any of the mortals or adepti of Liyue. And after Aether… Xiao had needed nothing more than his gentle presence to regain control of himself.

Aether needs him, and yet Xiao can do nothing.

“Ah, now this looks a bit troubling, doesn’t it?” A soft voice hums at Xiao’s side.

If Xiao moves now, Aether will fall. He bends his head low instead. “Lord Barbatos. Why…”

No, it is not his place to question an Archon, and certainly not one who has not promised Xiao his favor.

“Haven’t I told you to call me Venti already?” Barbatos asks, untroubled. Crouching down at Aether’s side, he places his fingers at Aether’s temple with a sympathetic croon. Xiao stiffens, but surely Barbatos has no reason to hurt Aether, right?

“Lost yourself to the song of the wind, I see,” Barbatos murmurs at Aether’s ear, gentle. “I understand. It’s such a lovely sound. But you have to come back now, alright? Your love is waiting for you.”

Aether takes in a sharp breath as Barbatos’s fingers spark with power, and then breezes are curling off his skin to stir the dust of the hall.

“Good, good.” Barbatos hops back to his feet, and Aether’s rapidly clearing gaze follows him up.

“I must say though, this bond of yours keeps getting stranger every time I see it,” Barbatos says, propping a hand on his hip. “What kind of merged pair— where one person carries the Heart all the time, no less— has such an equal splitting of power between both partners?”

“Aether gave himself to me,” Xiao growls, and the sparkle of Barbatos’s eyes tempers, just a little.

“Oh, I know. Don’t take it the wrong way, my adeptus of the sky— I wish more bonds could be like yours. But alas.”

Spinning around, Barbatos trots back to the room from which he’d appeared. “Don’t forget to join us when you’re ready!”

The door clacks shut, and Xiao turns to meet Aether’s steady gaze.

“Are you— safe, now?” Xiao stumbles out, and Aether nods, a smile tugging at his lips. He’s still on the ground.

“Thank you, Xiao.”

They watch each other for a moment.

“You should stand.”

“Mm. I could,” Aether agrees. “But I think I’d… rather stay down here.”

“Why?” Xiao blurts, regret immediately crawling over his tongue. “That is—”

“Because… because I trust you.” Aether seems thoughtful. “I lost control, and you held onto it until Barbatos— Venti— could help me get it back. It’s…” he pauses for a while. “It feels nice. To know that when the power is in your hands, I don't have to worry so much about hurting you."

“But you are the one holding my Heart. I cannot be your master.” This remains simple truth, no matter how many other rules he and Aether have defied now.

Aether only snorts. “I'm not so sure about that. We already share an abnormal bond, so why should we have to follow a rule like that just because it's convention?.”

Fabric rustles as he tips his head further into Xiao’s leg. “If you really don’t want this, then I can stop. But if it means anything at all— I give you permission to take control. You just have to ask. And I… I’ll do the same for you.”

Ask. To hold Aether’s pure light in his bloodstained hands? To master a being even older than himself? To take and take and give nothing in return?

…Would he give nothing in return? Xiao meets Aether’s eyes, sees nothing but a hopeful warmth.

“Not— now,” Xiao bites out. He searches for a way to tell Aether that later, perhaps, he would dare to control him, but Aether stands before he can speak again.

“When you’re ready, then.” There is neither anger nor pleasure in his voice, and Xiao keeps still as Aether runs a gentle hand through his hair.

Had he made the wrong choice? Would Aether condemn him even if he has?

There are no more words as they push into the room before them. Inside, Xiao’s gaze immediately slips to where Chongyun is sitting between Lord Rex and Barbatos, listening to Barbatos’s chatter with hunched shoulders and wide eyes.

“Come and join us,” Lord Rex says, his eyes lighting as he beckons them to the table.

When Xiao stiffly takes a seat, Barbatos turns to him just long enough to flick one of his eyelids shut and open again. Such a strange god.

“Well, Venti?” Zhongli sighs. “We are all gathered now. What is it that you came to say?”

Barbatos’s expression immediately turns solemn as he leans in on his elbows. “I’ve been hearing some… unpleasant whispers on the wind, lately. From Liyue, from Snezhnaya… it all reeks of our dear Tsaritsa, even though I feel we’ve told her in no uncertain terms that her meddling is not welcome in our nations.”

“Rumors…” Lord Rex murmurs. “And yet you have still come in such a hurry?”

“The land is crying out, Morax. Surely you’ve heard it too by now?”

With a considering nod, Lord Rex sweeps a geo-lit hand across the table. “Perhaps. Though I had thought it to be merely… unrest, accumulating as Xiao heals from his fall.”

Xiao clenches his teeth. For days now, he has been more than strong enough to return to his duties, and yet Lord Rex still refuses him.

“Hm. Well, whatever the case, there’s no ignoring that Tsaritsa has commanded something even the elements shudder at. You should be careful, old friend.”

“I will heed your warning.” Lord Rex’s gaze drifts around the room— Chongyun, Aether, Xiao. “Perhaps it is time that I ask others to investigate where I cannot.”

“You really should.” Barbatos rolls his eyes. “Can’t keep your treasures safely locked up here forever, after all.”

(”Treasures?” Chongyun whispers to Aether. ”Us,” Aether replies.)

“Bard.”

“I’m just saying!” Barbatos dances away from the table and out of Lord Rex’s reach, as light as the winds he embodies.

Lord Rex huffs, a sound that belongs to the throat of a dragon, not a mortal. “Xiao and Aether, would you be willing to accompany us when we return to Liyue Harbor in the morning? Now that your powers and strength have been restored, it will be best to again find the limits of your separation. I will use far more caution this time, so please do not worry.”

“I’m ready,” Aether says immediately. “Xiao?”

“…I cannot enter the city.” And neither does he wish to be parted from Aether again, but it must be done.

“You will not have to,” Lord Rex assures. “Aether may accompany Chongyun, and I plan to keep watch between you and them to ensure nothing goes wrong.”

Xiao nods slowly.

“Excellent.” Turning, Lord Rex addresses Barbatos next. “And what will you do, Venti?”

“Oh, I thought I’d just stay a night or two here, you know? Keep an ear on the winds… revisit Liyue’s cuisine… inspect your stores of wine since Master Diluc won’t let me into his…”

“Out,” Lord Rex growls, but it is not a terribly vicious sound, and Barbatos leaves a chime of laughter behind as he darts from the room.

After a silent moment in which they all stare after him, Lord Rex returns to Aether.

“Are you recovered, now?”

“I’ll need some practice, but in terms of my physical strength, I don’t see any reason I can’t go to the Harbor or join Xiao for some of his duties,” Aether says, and—

“No,” Xiao snarls before his can restrain himself. “You cannot fight with me.” He will never allow Aether so much as a chance to fall to the darkness; to take on more of Xiao’s pain.

“…I could help you,” Aether says, searching. “I don’t want you to be facing that corruption alone.”

“It is my burden to bear. You have already suffered far too much for me.”

Quietly, Aether turns away, but a spark remains lit in his eyes. Whenever Xiao is again sent to battle the darkness of Liyue, he will have to find a way to make Aether stay behind.

“Regardless,” Lord Rex interrupts, “neither of you will be fighting until we know it is safe for you to part for a reasonable length of time.” His stare flickers between Xiao and Aether, as if in warning.

“Of course,” Aether murmurs. And with that, Lord Rex moves on.

“I apologize for today’s many interruptions,” he sighs. “Director Hu has also called me for a consultation this evening, so I will not be joining the dinner table. Make sure you all get some rest before the morning.”

He pauses on his way out the door. “Ah, and… pay Venti no mind, should he make an appearance. As those under my protection, none of you are obligated to do anything for him, Archon though he may be.”

The room falls still once he is gone.

 

“…Well,” Aether says with an odd smile. “Shall we get back to training, then?”

Notes:

Finally started Chongyun's hangout (i know, i know), and he is such an awkward bean. Love him.

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Chapter 32: Lull

Notes:

HAPPY NEW YEAR! I'm still not done processing 2019 tbh.

Huge thanks once again to Heart_of_a_Dragon for putting up with my brainstorming and helping me get this chapter out on time!

TW: Minor blood and semi-conscious self-harm (Childe)

(Edit 1/15/22: Change/addition of the last two sentences)

Xiao patiently watches over Aether and Chongyun as they sleep, settling himself on the foot of their bed and dipping into the slow breaths of meditation. It is easier to relax with Chongyun nearby— his aura wards against evil so strongly that even Xiao’s darkest memories can be drowned out.

When morning comes, Aether rises from beneath the blankets, his hair a tangle of bright silk and his skin creased by the red imprints of sleep. He blinks hazily into the light before offering Xiao a quiet smile. “Good morning, Xiao.”

It is as if all the tension of the day before had never existed at all. “Good morning,” Xiao says, the way he has carefully taught himself how, and he goes to Aether’s side to press a hesitant kiss to his temple.

Everything is warm, warm, warm.

Aether hooks his fingers with Xiao’s and uses his other hand to give Chongyun’s shoulder a little shake.

“It’s morning, Chongyun. Time to get up.”

As always when Lord Rex’s steady presence is not nearby, Chongyun jolts up at the first prompting, eyes wild. Naturally, Aether is right there to calm him with gentle hands and soothing words. “It’s alright, you’re just in the palace with me and Xiao. There’s no rush.”

Chongyun’s gaze flickers to Xiao, and Xiao inclines his head in greeting as Chongyun’s breathing evens out.

“Right. I thought… sorry.”

A placid atmosphere surrounds them as Aether and Chongyun slip from the bed to begin their daily grooming. Chongyun uses some of Aether’s clothes, tying his Vision to the borrowed sash in a hesitant display— one only Ganyu had been able to convince him to adopt. Beside him, Aether tugs up a high collar to cover the glowing lines in his throat, then holds up a brush, a question in his eyes. Xiao goes at once to comb out Aether’s hair, reverently savoring every moment in which he is allowed to serve his Heart.

Once Aether’s hair is tended to, Xiao turns his attention to Chongyun, reaching out with slow, obvious movements to untuck Chongyun’s collar and straighten the back of his sash. This, Chongyun now allows with only the faintest trace of fear clinging to his aura.

Xiao has slaughtered untold mortals before, had become nothing but a poison to them despite his purified karma— and yet, this fragile exchange of trust with Chongyun settles something deep in Xiao’s chest. It is too strange even to mold into thought, so Xiao does not try.

The morning meal comes next, and though Xiao can sense Lord Rex and Barbatos’s auras tucked away in their respective rooms, neither of them make an appearance at the table. With Ganyu also busy elsewhere and the guardian adepti safely secluded in their own abodes, that leaves Aether and Chongyun as the only ones to be eating. Today, it seems, is Aether’s turn to cook, and Xiao follows him to the kitchen so he may watch and assist wherever he can.

When Aether reaches for the spices and oil of what Xiao knows to be part of a hot fish fry, however, he hastily grabs Aether’s wrist to stop him.

They freeze as one, staring at the place where their skin meets, and Aether’s gaze slowly drifts up. “Xiao?”

Xiao forces his fingers to unclench, forces himself not to stumble away. There is no anger in the bond, only a soft curiosity and concern.

“You should— make something else.”

“Like what?” Aether asks easily, already setting aside the previous ingredients.

“…Cold food. Chongyun will refuse to eat it otherwise.” Xiao says, stiff.

“He’ll refuse to eat…” Aether’s brows crease sharply, and he leans in. “Xiao, what do you mean?”

“Perhaps he will eat it,” Xiao amends. “But he will wait for hot foods to become cold first.”

“No, I meant— has he been eating like that this entire time, and I simply haven’t noticed?”

“Most likely. I have noticed the behavior for myself only recently.”

Aether bites at his lip. “Cold foods…” he mumbles. “Why? His Vision? Or maybe…”

Without warning, he slaps a palm to his face, and Xiao is too slow to stop him.

“Of course. He was always insistent on regulating his temperature. But that was before his curse was exorcised, so I wonder if…”

Aether appears to ponder for a moment more before lifting his head with a sigh. “Xiao, you and Ganyu and Zhongli were all sure the instability of Chongyun’s power was caused by that curse, right?”

Xiao nods, waiting.

“So aside from his lack of control over his Vision now, the other abnormalities in his core should be gone?”

If there had been any, Xiao would have sensed them long ago.

“But Chongyun likely doesn’t know that,” Aether murmurs. “Alright. I’ll make a different dish for now and ask him more about his yang spirit later.” With gentle fingers, he reaches up for Xiao’s cheek. “Thank you, Xiao. You’re a good friend.”

…Friend? “Friend?” Xiao repeats aloud, and Aether laughs.

“You teach Chongyun, protect him, enjoy his company, and care for him of your own will. To me, that’s a friendship. But don’t worry,” he says, hand dropping to pat Xiao’s arm. “It’s a good thing.”

Turning back to the counter, Aether sets to making a meal of pale noodles with vegetables on top, and Xiao is left to untangle the threads of his own confused thoughts.

Chongyun is a mortal. Certainly, he is safe in Xiao’s presence in a way most others are not, but that does not mean he and Xiao can be so connected as to be “friends.” And yet… Xiao considers Aether’s words again. It is also undeniable that he looks after the boy.

Is that all it means to be friends?

Lord Rex had been friends with the man from the harbor, Xiao remembers. What had Lord Rex done with Childe for the relationship to be seen as such? Many times, he had spoken of shared meals and conversations… quiet hours spent upon the wharf… of turns taken to pay for the day’s activities…

Are these things perhaps similar enough to the behaviors Xiao and Chongyun share?

“Xiao, will you take these out the table for me?” Aether’s voice breaks Xiao from his distraction, and he looks to where Aether is gesturing at a small stack of plates and utensils.

Wordlessly, Xiao takes them, and when he steps back into the dining hall, he cannot help but focus upon the sudden movement of Chongyun straightening in his chair. Yet, it is not the stiffness of one ready to receive orders, of one afraid; but rather an eager attentiveness— an expression of pleasure. Chongyun is… happy to see him.

Friends. Perhaps there is some semblance of truth to it after all.

Aether appears not long after, and Chongyun brightens even further at the sight of the dish in Aether’s hands. When he eats, it is without hesitation, finishing everything Aether puts on his plate, and Xiao watches with a faint satisfaction. Good. Perhaps Aether will soon be able to convince Chongyun to eat warm foods as well.

“Thank you, Aether,” Chongyun says, pressing his hands together and bowing over the empty plates before him. “That’s one of my favorites… I used to make it with Xingqiu, actually. When I was allowed the time.”

“I’m glad I could cook it for you, then.” Aether smiles, but there is something strained in his eyes. “Xiao, did you want to try? The noodles don’t have too much flavor…”

Xiao hesitates for a moment, but… this is a dish both Aether and Chongyun seem to enjoy. It would not hurt for Xiao to know the taste as well.

“Very well.”

Surprise flits across Aether’s face, but it is immediately replaced by a soft contentment. “Here.”

Xiao leans in to take the bite from Aether’s chopsticks, and he rolls the wet, chewy texture around in his mouth. Mild salt bursts over his tongue, and he is able to finish the mouthful without much trouble. Not pleasant, but not so unbearable as to be avoided in the future.

“It is adequate,” he says, and Aether nods, a half-smile twisting at his lips.

“As I expected. I’ll make some almond tofu for you as well next time.”

They swiftly clean up after their meal, and then there is nothing left to do but find Lord Rex and request a flight to Liyue Harbor. As they approach his room, however, Xiao begins to sense dark trails of melancholy in his otherwise sun-bright aura, strong enough that even Aether is frowning at the touch of it.

“Lord Rex?” Xiao calls quietly, stopping at the open doorway. Lord Rex lifts his head from the tight coil of his body and opens his eyes to reveal a dim, somber glow.

“Ah, is it that time already?” Weaving his way out of the nest, Lord Rex comes to press his snout to Xiao’s forehead, accept Chongyun’s touch upon his scales, and rustle Aether’s hair with his breath by turns. Such is his usual greeting, and yet the motions are unpleasantly subdued.

Strange, how Xiao has grown so attached to this master as to desire, to welcome his affection.

“Zhongli…” Aether starts. “Is there something wrong?”

Slowly, Lord Rex’s head bows. “Perhaps, but I have only myself to blame.”

Rarely has Xiao seen Lord Rex so defeated. In fact, after that day Xiao had gone to him begging for death, the only other occasion had been in the Golden House… immediately after Childe’s departure.

“What happened?” Aether asks, even softer.

“After finishing my business with Director Hu yesterday, I had thought to go for a walk in the city,” Lord Rex sighs. “By chance, I came across a friend of mine— Aether, believe I have spoken of him with you before— and though I had sworn to myself not to seek him out again, I thought this encounter of fate was my opportunity to make amends. I… was wrong.”

“He walked away?”

“He told me he hated me,” Lord Rex says flatly. “That he wished never to see me again. But his eyes… I have never seen them so tainted and desperate. I fear he may now be in genuine distress, and yet there is little I can do without his forgiveness.”

For a divine to be rejected so thoroughly by one they value so greatly… Lord Rex is far too strong to fall from that blow alone, but the pain would be no less for it. If Aether were to reject Xiao in the same way… a shudder drips down his spine. Xiao is not certain he would survive.

“But my troubles are not yours to shoulder.” Lord Rex shakes his head. “If you are all ready, shall we go?”

--

Much like their last trip the Liyue Harbor, Lord Rex brings them to the borders of the city so Xiao may leave to take up his watch in the mountains and Chongyun may slip from his back to walk. The only change is that Aether lightly descends at Lord Rex’s side, this time having made his own gleeful flight from the palace.

Wind-tousled hair escapes its braid as Aether reaches up to smooth a thumb over the sensitive base of Xiao’s horn and place a parting kiss between his brows.

“We’ll be bringing Chongyun to see Xingqiu, and I plan to pay a visit to the Ningguang as well, should we have the time,” Aether murmurs. “And if you happen to feel safe enough, you are welcome to join us whenever you like.”

He sets off down the road with Chongyun and Lord Rex beside him, but Xiao simply stands there for a moment, bewildered. Aether is one who has seen the blood on Xiao’s hands, who knows of the mortals Xiao had endlessly slaughtered before Saizhen’s defeat. Why, then, does he continually insist that Xiao is welcome in the city? How is he always so certain that Xiao will not slip once more and kill those under his protection?

Creeping up the low hills around the harbor, Xiao settles on a large, sun-warmed rock to wait. The auras of humans, spirits, and adepti swirl dizzyingly beneath him, like the glittering of a moonlit river, and Xiao focuses his attention among them.

Aether and Chongyun walk together, both their spirits so bright and powerful that they blind Xiao from all else around them. Lord Rex wanders alone in a sprawl of gardens between Xiao and the other two, gentle threads of his aura outstretched to connect them all. Xiao also finds Ganyu’s presence in a gilded tower set apart from the harbor crowds. But when he returns to Aether’s light, his senses catch upon something dark and turbulent. Something familiar.

It is Lord Rex’s favored human, only now the corruption of his aura seems to have consumed him whole, an unceasing scream of bloodlust that the man must barely be holding back. Why is Childe there? And if his corruption were to meet Aether’s and Chongyun’s purity—

No. They are far from weak, even against a cursed soul like Childe, so Xiao will restrain himself. And should they require more strength…

You are welcome.

Drawing Aether’s trust around him like armor, Xiao settles in to watch and wait.

 

-*-

 

Strolling down the harbor roads, Aether revels in the freedom of his own body. Gone is the exhaustion and dizziness, the aching bones and empty stomach, the strain of parting from Xiao and the burning of his skin under the sun. He feels light enough to dance, but instead settles for a comfortable skip in his step as he walks alongside an equally excited Chongyun.

“Xingqiu is usually at his estate around this time of day,” Chongyun muses. “I just wish I’d though to send him a message sooner so I could be sure.”

“It’s not as if you had much time to do it,” Aether points out.

Chongyun hums in agreement, then slows his pace before a twin bakery and sweet shop to lean into the display window. “Maybe I should bring him a present so he’ll forgive me for disappearing for so long.”

Not entirely sure if Chongyun is joking or not, Aether joins him in the inspection of the pastries. “I’m not sure you could do anything to stop Xingqiu from wanting you back.”

“…He was looking for me, wasn’t he,” Chongyun says, softer.

“The entire time.”

Chongyun lingers at the window for a moment longer before pushing on through the door. “I think I will get him something.”

Feeling inexplicably pleased, Aether follows him inside and waits as Chongyun picks out a bag of sweet buns and mooncakes, then pays from the little pouch of mora Zhongli had given him before their departure.

“Should I really be using Rex Lapis’s money for something as selfish as this?” Chongyun asks as they return to the street.

“Well… in a way, all money is his money, right? So I don’t think you have to worry too much.”

After a moment, Chongyun huffs out a laugh. “Only you could see it like that, Aether.”

Together, they leisurely weave their way up Feiyun Slope, taking in the sights and sounds of the harbor after a long absence. It is far easier for Aether to relax among the crowd when he doesn’t need to worry about hiding his face and immortality. He takes the time to admire Chongyun’s bearing as well— the strong, steady walk, the upright posture, and easy slide of his gaze from one attraction to another. Compared to the jittery, desperate nervousness from before his curse had been removed, Chongyun might as well be a different person altogether.

Getting Chongyun away from the Liu clan was the best thing they’d ever done.

It’s as they’re passing a row of jewelry shops that something new draws Aether’s attention. He slows, narrowing his eyes as he looks around for the source of the feeling that has hooked itself into his subconscious; the dark pulse of something that makes his cleansing powers stir.

“Aether…” Chongyun says, and now they’re both stopped in the middle of the street as the shadow trails closer and closer.

Though the sensation is unpleasant, it’s also tugging at a thread of a memory, and Aether struggles to call it to the surface. A blazing harbor sun, a weight in his limbs, a flash of ocean blue and shining rust…

“Well hello there, comrade!”

Childe.

“Fancy meeting you here today. And with such an… interesting companion too.”

Chongyun shuffles half a step back, and Aether doesn’t blame him at all. Everything about Childe is wrong, wrong, wrong, from the void in his gaze to the jittering of his hands. Whatever darkness he’d had chained at their last meeting is now roaring just beneath the surface, and Aether suddenly feels as if he’s a pylon being battered by the waves. Childe does not scare him, but his obvious instability does— after all, Aether is only one shield in this sea of innocents.

“Hello again, Childe,” he says slowly. “How have you been?”

Childe’s already-manic grin stretches wider. “Oh, I’m wonderful. Plans falling into place, my work almost completed, the bank raking it in… Her Majesty will be very pleased, I think. And you, Aether? What have you been up to lately?”

Though his words are for Aether, Childe’s gaze is fixed firmly, hungrily upon Chongyun, and there’s no way Aether is going to allow that.

“Oh, nothing so exciting. Just resting up after a few health issues and settling into a new place outside the harbor,” he says as steadily as he can manage, edging in front of Chongyun. “I’m glad to see your injures are healed as well, now. Will you be going back to Snezhnaya?”

“Hah, not just yet.” Childe’s laugh is a little too loud. “I still have one last debt to collect, after all.”

“…I see.”

“Say, Aether, won’t you introduce me to your friend?” Childe has one hand clenched around the other forearm, and Aether can see blood welling up from the places his fingernails have gouged into the skin.

What is going on?

“Hm? Oh, he's on his way to Yujing Terrace to take care of some business, I just happen to be accompanying him,” Aether deflects. “There really isn't much to introduce.”

“Oh, but I think there is,” Childe takes one step closer, then two. “Whoever this is, he is poison, and I want to know why.”

Aether tenses; wraps his fingers around Chongyun’s wrist. “…You're going to have to explain that one.”

“Everything is burning— here and here and here,” Childe hisses, pointing to his chest, eyes, throat in turn. “He's a threat. And threats need to be destroyed.”

“What are you talking about? He isn’t even touching you,” Aether says sharply.

A laugh, dark and unsettled. “He doesn't need to, it seems. My vision is dark, my skin is peeling away, and everything is cold. Almost too cold to move. And the closer I come, the stronger the attack grows.”

Aside from the five crescents of blood on Childe’s arm, his skin seems otherwise whole… but his eyes are unfocused, and his body is shaking. What exactly is it that’s hurting him? Chongyun’s aura? But if both of them had existed together in the city for a year, surely Childe would have come across it before…

“So,” Childe says, and without warning, he lunges forward until his face is nearly pressed against Aether’s. “Either you make him stop— or I will.”

Whatever the truth may be, now is clearly not the time to be untangling the snarl of Childe’s problems.

Aether breathes in. Out. What challenges him now is not a man, but a rabid beast, and though Aether does not often make use of either his position or his temper, he remains a being who has walked the length of time itself. And whatever else Childe may be, he is still mortal.

Bright winds rise at Aether’s call, twining with his own innate power, and he forcefully brings his hands together before Childe’s eyes.

“Behave.”

Childe stumbles back, his eyelids dropping as he grasps at his head, and Aether wastes no time grabbing Chongyun, pushing past the gawking crowd, and running. With any luck, his small purification will be enough to bring Childe back to his senses for a moment and allow them to make a full escape.

 

When they make it up to the luxurious gardens of Yujing Terrace with no sign of a pursuer, Aether finally slows to a walk, drawing upon Xiao’s Heart to bolster his energy. It takes a few minutes for Chongyun to catch his breath to match.

“Aether, who was that?”

“…A man I’d met a few weeks ago at Wanmin restaurant— on the day I came to help look for you, actually,” Aether says, mind racing. “I don’t know what happened, but he was nothing like that the first time I ran into him.”

Chongyun tilts his head. “He’s a Fatui officer of some sort, right? Though I’ve never seen that uniform before…. What did he mean about the— the poison? And what did you do to make him stop?”

“He is, although I don’t know his rank either, and I used a purification on him to try and clear some of the taint in his aura… like what I did for Xiao. But as for why your presence was hurting him…” Aether trails off, and oh. Oh.

The corruption that mirrors what Xiao had suffered, the success of Aether’s cleansing, Chongyun’s pure yang spirit and the recent undoing of his curse, the betrayal Childe had said he’d endured, the friend that Zhongli had lost—

“Childe is like an evil spirit,” Aether breathes. “And you were purifying him.”

Chongyun blinks.

“Yes, it has to be. Xiao told us your aura was strong and wide enough to cover Zhongli’s entire palace after the curse was removed, so it’s only now that Childe can feel it. Since he’s not a full spirit, he could fight the pain to get closer to you, but your powers can’t truly coexist. If we’d stayed long enough… I wonder if you and I could’ve exorcised his corruption entirely.”

“…How did a human end up like that?” Chongyun asks, sounding vaguely nauseated. “Even being around traces of evil spirits is enough to make most non-exorcists sick.”

“I don’t know,” Aether says,” But if I’m right, Childe is the friend Zhongli was talking about, and that means he or Xiao might know more.”

Chongyun is silent for a moment. “Then, should we return to Rex Lapis first? This seems important enough…”

The thought had already crossed Aether’s mind, but he’d dismissed it just as quickly. “No, Childe can wait for a little while longer. We’re here for you today.” He offers Chongyun a smile. “Besides, I know Xiao is watching, and I doubt Zhongli would let anything happen to his city even if Childe were to lose control.”

“…Alright.” Chongyun concedes, and he gives Aether a little smile in return. “At least it will all make an interesting story for Xingqiu.”

--

When they arrive at the Liang estate, all Aether has to do is ask the wide-eyed guard about visiting the “young master” for the man to promptly wave them on to the back garden. Oddly enough, he doesn’t acknowledge Chongyun at all— but then, Xingqiu had said Chongyun’s visits to the estate were rare, and Aether’s presence is apparently enough to make the guard overlook it either way.

A covered walkway offers some relief from the heat until Chongyun spots a flash of blue beyond some bushes to their right, and Aether follows him down a small trail to Xingqiu. They find him sitting with his back to the path, huddled over a stone table covered in books and papers with his brother Xihu doing much the same on the other side. Xihu looks up first, eyebrow raised, and Aether bows politely. He’s far from friends with Xihu, but they’ve spent enough time together as a product of Aether’s relationship with the Liang family as a whole.

Then Xingqiu turns with a questioning noise, and Aether takes a discreet step to the side.

“…Yunyun?”

“Hi, Xingqiu!” Chongyun says with a slightly unnatural cheer, holding his bag of pastries up between them. “Um, I brought these for you…”

With a great clatter of books and ink and brushes, Xingqiu leaps up and tackles Chongyun in one motion, sending them both crashing to the ground. Aether catches the pastries as they fly from Chongyun’s hand, then again inclines his head to Xihu when the latter quietly bows his way out of the scene. Likely a wise decision.

“You’re alive, you’re here,” Xingqiu chokes into Chongyun’s shoulder.

Awkwardly, Chongyun pats his hair. “Didn’t Lady Ganyu bring you a message saying—”

Xingqiu slams his hands into the grass, one on either side of Chongyun’s head. “It doesn’t matter when I never had the chance to see you!”

Chongyun blinks up at him, obviously stunned.

“Gods, I thought— you were gone, and even though I got the letters, all I heard was the Liu clan declaring you dead and most everyone else not realizing you were gone at all! I couldn’t even tell anyone you were alive for fear of the news making it to the Liu clan. Every time I passed one of those villains, I just wanted to…” Xingqiu makes an undignified ripping motion with his hands.

“Um, well…” Chongyun says, arms slowly coming to wrap over Xingqiu’s back. “I’m here now. Forgive me for not visiting sooner?”

With a strangled sound, Xingqiu again buries his face against Chongyun’s chest— against his heart— and there they stay, quiet but for soft breaths and the rustling of the garden around them.

Tiptoeing over to the table, Aether sets down the pastries and does his best to tidy up the scattered mess of papers Xingqiu had left behind. The three of them may be friends, but Aether has no place in this particular reunion.

Several long minutes pass before Xingqiu stirs again, and he slips off Chongyun so the two of them can sit upright. “You have to tell me everything.”

“Of course,” Chongyun says immediately.

“And never do that to me again. Even— even if it means you have to call on an Archon. You’ve met Rex Lapis, right?

“Um, yes, but I’m not sure…”

“Promise me.” Xingqiu glares, and Chongyun ducks his head, slowly reaching for Xingqiu’s hand.

“Okay. I promise.”

Tugging Chongyun to his feet and dusting the grass from both their clothes, Xingqiu at last turns to greet Aether.

“Please excuse my manners, my liege” he coughs. “Thank you for bringing Chongyun back, and… I’m glad to see you again.”

“It’s no trouble,” Aether says, suppressing a laugh. “And I’m glad to see you too. Have you been holding up alright?”

Accepting a much tamer embrace than the one Chongyun had gotten, Aether gently tugs Xingqiu back over the table, him on one side and Chongyun and Xingqiu pressed shoulder-to-shoulder on the other.

“Ever since I received the second letter saying Chongyun was to stay in Jueyun Karst, I’ve just been waiting,” Xingqiu admits. “I couldn’t do anything about the Liu clan’s injustice, not alone, and, ah… my family may have stopped me from discreetly leaving the harbor to visit.”

“In this case, I’m relieved that they did.” It’s difficult for Aether to be admonishing in the face of such blatant devotion. “Jueyun Karst isn’t a very safe place for mortals, after all.”

“I suppose so,” Xingqiu says with a faintly indignant frown. “But then, how did Yunyun survive there?”

“Well, he was brought in by Rex Lapis himself,” Aether starts. “And then…”

With a little jolt, Chongyun hastily lifts his wrist for Xingqiu to see, and Xingqiu’s fingers come to wrap delicately around it, thumb smoothing over the golden sigil there.

“…This looks something like a Sigil of Permission.”

“Rex Lapis said it is,” Chongyun explains hesitantly. “It was designed for me alone, I think— which is why he placed it on me and not a talisman as usual.”

Xingqiu stares at the mark for a moment longer before his head suddenly pops up and he leans into Chongyun’s space, eyes sparkling. “The letters I got only said that you were rescued from some threat the exorcists arranged, and then that you needed to stay in Jueyun Karst due to troubles with your Vision.” With the hand not clenching Chongyun’s wrist, he drags over a blank page and a brush. “Tell me more?”

And Aether settles back to listen as Chongyun softly begins with the day his father had dragged him out to Cuijue Slope, watching the way Xingqiu’s eyes grow flintier with every mention of the Liu clan. The pastries come out not long after, perhaps as a form of comfort, and Xingqiu pours out effusive thanks to a red-faced Chongyun.

Aether accepts a mooncake to nibble on and only interjects when Chongyun looks to him for unknown parts of the story.

In one of his moments of quiet, Aether reaches for the bond with Xiao, and receives a worried probing in return. Truthfully, Aether is surprised it hadn’t come sooner, when Xiao had surely felt something of his earlier encounter with Childe and the subsequent strength Aether had borrowed from his Heart.

Without hesitation, he opens himself to Xiao’s search, marveling at how normal he feels— so different from his last visit to the harbor. He’s even hungry now, in a way he hasn’t been since… since those long-ago days before Xiao left him in Liyue Harbor, maybe. Even so, his body itches to return to Xiao’s side, and Aether reminds himself that it won’t be much longer.

And then, with Zhongli’s test of separation passed… perhaps he’ll finally be able to join in Xiao’s life beyond the palace, and even begin a real search for Lumine.

How long has it been since he’s dared to hope for so much?

Notes:

Sometimes I post on tumblr >.>

Chapter 33: All That Waits

Notes:

I'm back-
Thank you all so much for your patience and amazing comments! I'm sorry I don't have the energy to respond to all of them, but I want to once again make sure you know that I love and read them many times over :')
Now that my Thoma/Aether short fic is complete and life has (hopefully) calmed down a little, I should be able to get back to the regular schedule!
(And thank you, Dragon, for all your continued encouragement and beta work <3)

TW: Non-graphic mentions of abuse from the Liu clan

“So, if I understand it correctly,” Xingqiu says, staring in obvious awe at the catalyst bobbing above Chongyun’s hand. “The Archon of Liyue has all but declared you his family?”

“What?” Chongyun yelps, his already-flushed face burning an even brighter red. “No, he only—” He stops, taking a few deep breaths and muttering to himself. “Stay calm, stay calm.”

A mischievous spark lights in Xingqiu’s eye. “I hardly think it’s a bad thing, Yunyun. Rex Lapis can be a better father than yours ever was. And with the Vigilant Yaksha as your brother in arms, Lady Ganyu an elder sister, Aether as—”

“Stop!” The catalyst vanishes as Chongyun slaps both his hands over Xingqiu’s mouth, his own eyes squeezed shut as his very hair seems to color with embarrassment.

Aether can’t entirely muffle a laugh even as he gently reaches around to pat Chongyun’s shoulder. Soon, he’ll find the right time to tell Chongyun that heat and passion are no longer things to fear, but… now doesn’t seem like the right time. As he pulls back, Xingqiu murmurs something into the gag of Chongyun’s hands, words Aether can’t hear, but that make Chongyun jolt back so fast he nearly tumbles off his seat.

Xingqiu catches him with a smile on his face and so much adoration in his gaze that Aether has no choice but to look away. It’s becoming increasingly obvious both that Xingqiu is in love and that Chongyun is utterly oblivious to it. No wonder Xihu had left so quickly.

Xingqiu must be excellent at masking his affection— when he hasn’t just been worried out of his mind about Chongyun, anyway— because they’d spent years visiting Aether before, and it’s only now that Aether is truly noticing.

“So,” Xingqiu prompts as soon as Chongyun is seated again. “If that curse was removed and you‘ve trained under the adepti, would it be possible for us to spar using our Visions now?”

Chongyun’s face falls a little. “That… I don’t think so. I don’t have much control over my Vision. Rex Lapis allowed me to come to the harbor because I could stop it from reacting with my temper, but that’s all I can do, really.”

“You’re still in training,” Aether reminds him gently. “No one expects you to immediately master a power you were told to fear for so long. And that isn’t even bringing the adeptal arts into consideration.”

“…I know,” Chongyun mumbles. And while Aether feels he genuinely does understand, there’s no doubt that knowing and believing are two entirely different things.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Xingqiu says lightly. “And even more so that I can’t assist you in practice.”

“Mm. I wish you could visit… it really is beautiful up there. And quiet. Rex Lapis has a huge study too, with walls and walls of ancient texts.”

“Oh, to be a guest in the Rex Lapis’s palace…” Xingqiu mumbles, the calligraphy brush in his hand twitching. Then he gives his head a quick shake. “Never mind.”

Would it be possible to bring Xingqiu back to Jueyun Karst? Convincing the Liang family aside, Zhongli would likely agree to at least a day’s visit…

“Tell me more about the Vigilant Yaksha, then,” Xingqiu says, leaning just a little too far into Chongyun’s space and propping his elbows on the table. “There are so many legends about him, even without the stories from the Liu clan… and Aether’s knowledge, but he so rarely shares it.” He turns a mildly baleful look upon Aether, at which Aether apologetically dips his head.

“I didn’t particularly want to think about Xiao myself at that time, if you’ll recall.”

“Apologies, my liege. But even so.”

In a way, Xingqiu takes after his ancestor Ganzhi— temperate and respectful, yet entirely undisturbed by either Aether’s power or immortality when speaking to him. Aether appreciates it more than Xingqiu will ever know.

“I spoke to Chongyun about this earlier, but— I can make my visit to Lady Ningguang now if the two of you would prefer some time alone.” He offers.

“Oh? I wouldn’t say no, I suppose,” Xingqiu says thoughtfully. “Will you be alright on your own, my liege?”

“I’m much stronger now than I was on my last visit,” Aether laughs softly. “Thank you, Xingqiu, but there’s no need to worry about me.”

“If you insist.” Xingqiu pins him with a narrow stare.

Carefully ignoring it, Aether directs his next question to Chongyun. “And you remember what to do if you lose control of your Vision for any reason?”

Chongyun nods solemnly. “Rex Lapis would find me, right?”

“Mm. Lady Ganyu is the busier one at the moment, and I doubt Xiao would come into the harbor for anything less than the destruction of Liyue.” No matter how much Aether wishes otherwise.

“Be safe, Aether,” Chongyun calls as Aether retraces his steps back toward the front gates.

“And you two as well.”

With a last wave to them, then the gate guard, Aether rejoins the bustling city streets and charts his course for the harbor’s upper plaza. Who would have guessed this would be his first time visiting the Jade Chamber dock?

 

--

 

After wasting a good half-an-hour attempting to convince the platform guard that Ningguang would want to see him, Aether is saved by one of Ningguang’s personal secretaries when she descends from the Chamber above. Thankfully, Ningguang seems to have spoken to at least her aides about Aether, if not her entire staff.

At Secretary Baiwen’s command, the guard finally allows Aether onto the rising platform, albeit with an unpleasant huff, but Aether’s too relieved to be out of the sun and on the move again to be particularly slighted by it.

He stumbles out onto the plaustrite-tinged stones of the Jade Chamber, hastily wipes the sweat from his face, and pushes open the great doors of the sanctuary. Inside, the air is cool and heavy with the tang of gold, and Aether instinctively quiets his steps as he pads around the deck and down the stairs.

“Ningguang?”

A sharp rustle of paper meets his ears, and Aether swings around the next doorway to come face-to-face with an astonished Ningguang. She’s as intimidating as ever, dressed in the fine silk and luster she so favors.

“Aether? You’re… back.” She stares at him for a moment longer. “…If you were planning to visit, you should have sent word. I would have planned a much more extravagant reception than this.”

“I know you would’ve,” Aether says, “which is why I chose a much more subtle route. Though I admit your guards nearly led me to regret that.”

“How bold of you to attempt a visit without my personal recognition.” Ningguang’s face is strangely blank, and a sudden foreboding crawls over Aether’s skin.

“Um—”

Claw-tipped fingers surge forward to pinch neatly around his jaw, and Aether submits to the ordeal of Ningguang’s inspection as she turns his head this way and that, making his cheeks scrunch up to his eyes.

“Hm. You seem well,” she says, a faint smile gracing her lips as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “Far better than I’d seen you even in my childhood.” With a clink of metal, she releases Aether’s face, then beckons him toward what must be her office.

She’s forgiven him for his disappearance, then. A bubble of sunshine pops in Aether’s chest as he follows her in.

“Lady Ganyu informed me that you were staying at our esteemed Archon’s palace during your recovery,” Ningguang prompts, and Aether nods as he settles in a nearby chair.

“Yes. I’d had a… friend among the adepti long ago, one who was nearly as sick as I, and it just so happened that we found ourselves at the right time and place to save each other. So I’ve been spending my time with him under Rex Lapis’s care.”

A slight arching of Ningguang’s brow is the only hint of her fascination. “And why was it that you did not return to the harbor sooner? It seems you have been stronger for some time, now.”

“Well… for various reasons, I was unable to leave that adeptus’s side for long,” Aether carefully explains. “My one attempt at visiting Liyue Harbor was for Chongyun and Xingqiu’s sake, and it ended rather poorly.”

“Chongyun… ah yes, the boy from the exorcist clan. He was found, then? I admit I was surprised when Liang Xingqiu came seeking my assistance on the matter.”

“I was as well,” Aether says. “But for Chongyun, he’d do anything.” Leaning in a little, he catches Ningguang’s eye, and her gaze sharpens at his solemnity. “We did find Chongyun— my adeptus friend and I— but we were forced to rescue him both from a swarm of evil spirits and a chain that had been used to keep him trapped and vulnerable. For now, he’s safe with us at Rex Lapis’s palace, but I wanted to… discuss the Liu clan’s actions with you, Ningguang.”

Ningguang straightens in her chair and delicately places her hands upon the desk, fingertips clicking together. “Do tell me more.”

“For years now, Xingqiu and I have suspected that Chongyun was… out of favor with his family, to say the least. He would come to us with too many cuts and bruises, would be exhausted at odd hours, and always seemed to fear his father and exorcism instructor. Even so, he insisted he was fine, so there was nothing we could do.” Aether twists his fingers together in his lap. “However, shortly after the Rite of Descension, before Xingqiu requested your help— Chongyun was taken out into the wilds by the Liu clan, chained to a pillar, and left to die.”

“…And what has the Liu clan said of this?” Ningguang asks.

“They have denied all accusations, and we— that is, Xingqiu and I, along with some assistance from Consultant Zhongli— were careful not to aggravate them during our investigation for fear of losing access to their estate entirely. It seems their excuse is that Chongyun is out for an extended training session, though I don’t know what they were planning to say if he’d died and never returned. Perhaps they were hoping Liyue would forget about him with time.”

Quiet settles around them with the dust of Ningguang’s library, and Aether waits patiently for her thoughts. Though he’s never seen it in person, Ningguang’s famous “paper snow” is hardly a foreign concept to him, and she’s always has done her best work in private spaces like this.

Finally, Ningguang taps a finger on her desk. “While I do not doubt your words, nor the evidence laid out before me, I unfortunately cannot displace the Liu clan without warning or ample reason.”

“I understand. Despite all I’ve said, I wasn’t expecting you to.”

“However,” Ningguang continues. “If you can bring me any proof of the Liu clan’s failings— created or discovered— I may be able to do more.” She pins him with a keen stare, and Aether nods sharply.

“Perhaps not now, while my attention is still on Chongyun’s recovery. But I will do my best.”

“Good. Then, I have a different problem for you, that I would hear your advice on.”

One day, Aether will be able to convince her to leave him out of Liyue’s civil affairs and important decisions that might very well affect the entirety of Teyvat. He sighs. “Oh?”

Reaching into her desk, Ningguang pulls out a hefty stack of papers and spreads them out for Aether to see. They look like reports of some kind, and Aether skims over the nearest one. Fatui… redistribution… tension… guards…

“What is this?” He asks.

“Over the last few weeks, my eyes and ears around Liyue have been sending me most concerning news regarding the Fatui presence here.” Ningguang taps a page. “Apparently, soldiers are being withdrawn from the harbor in alarming numbers, Snezhnayan funds are being transferred out of the Northland Bank, and our resident harbinger has been acting… erratically. Enough that my informants fear for the safely of the people.”

A Fatuus suddenly acting strangely? Aether’s seen that one before. “…Is this harbinger’s name Childe, by any chance?”

“I believe that is his working name, yes,” Ningguang agrees. “You seem familiar with him.”

So Childe is a harbinger— one of the most notoriously powerful soldiers of the Snezhnayan army. Aether had already been able to tell the man was a threat, but this certainly determines the magnitude. “I’m acquainted. In fact, Chongyun and I came across him on our way through the city today.”

“And what did you think?”

“I’d agree with your spies— he’s very unstable. And based on his reaction to Chongyun and myself, I would say it has something to do with corruption or an evil spirit or something similar.”

“Hmm.” Ningguang regards him shrewdly. “The two of you made it away from the harbinger safely?”

“I was able to de-escalate,” Aether says, serene. “Oh, but you should also know that Childe is involved with Rex Lapis, though I’m not certain of the extent.”

“With our Archon?” Ningguang raises a brow. “Then, does Rex Lapis intend to eliminate this problem himself?”

Aether winces. Zhongli will probably step in if he has to, but it won’t be in the way Ningguang is expecting. “Perhaps not so directly. But I believe whatever has been altering Childe’s behavior lately could effectively be exorcised, with the right skill.”

“Intriguing. Well in that case, I will leave this matter to you and Rex Lapis for a while longer, and continue to observe from the background.”

Aether pauses, there. “…I’ll do what I can, but it would probably be best for you to prepare for disaster on your own. Childe’s actions are one thing, but the reports of Fatui leaving the harbor and economic changes are still concerning.”

“So you expect they are planning something?”

“…I do.” Childe’s cold anger at the betrayal of a friend, the hunger in his eyes, his words of revenge— “And I worry it will be trouble great enough to shake even an Archon.”

Papers rustle as Ningguang gathers them back into a neat pile. “I see. Well, I hope this harbinger finds that it will not be so easy to tear down a city that is mine to protect.”

And if Ningguang is claiming it, then Childe will no doubt face every obstacle that could possibly be placed in his path.

“Thank you for your time, Ningguang,” Aether says, inclining his head. “I’ll speak to Rex Lapis concerning Childe, and make some investigations into the Liu clan when this is all over.”

Sweeping around the side of her desk, Ningguang beckons him up. “Of course, I thank you for your wisdom as well. I find myself in quite a unique position compared to my predecessors, having acquaintance with direct line of communication to our Archon— no matter how unreliable his visits,” she adds, and Aether laughs.

“I’ll do better next time.”

“I expect nothing less. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me again, would you?” The corner of Ningguang’s mouth twitches.

“Archons forbid.”

Then Ningguang places her hands together, fist to palm, and gives him a deep bow— rare proof of her continued respect for and recognition of Aether’s age. Of his place in Liyue’s history.

Aether returns the gesture, shallower, but no less warm, and accepts Ningguang’s escort out to the edge of the Jade Chamber.

“Safe travels, Aether. May the Geo Archon guide your steps.”

“I’m sure he will,” Aether says, sharing an amused smile with her. “And I wish the same to you.”

With that, he jumps onto the plaustrite circle and begins his descent back to the harbor. It seems he’ll have a lot of work to do.

 

--

 

Aether very carefully keeps his back straight and his chin up as many pairs of Liang family eyes pin him to the spot and Xiao’s distant concern for him twists away in this chest.

The attention isn’t unexpected, exactly— it’s been long time since he’s paid an official visit to the Guild, after all, and his disappearance from Liyue Harbor combined with the rumors of his stay in Jueyun Karst have undoubtedly made everyone even more curious. So he endures the stares, gently pats the head of the little girl— Yanyan, he thinks— who clings to his leg and watches him with eyes the size of the moon, and plays his part as the immortal family guardian.

“Master Qianfan,” Aether greets the head of the guild, and the man crosses the hall to gives him a tidy bow in return.

“I am glad to see you well, Aether.”

“And I’m glad to be back. I hope my absence hasn’t troubled you too much.”

Qianfan chortles. “Well, there was certainly an uproar when rumors spread that your illness had turned fatal, but Lady Ganyu’s later reassurances were more than enough to quiet them.” He nods, as if to himself. “Rather than talk of our darker past though, I’d like to thank you for bringing the Liu boy back safely. My son has been quite worried these past few weeks.”

Biting back a wince at Chongyun’s old clan name— Qianfan hadn’t been informed of that part of the situation— Aether glances over at the door, where Xingqiu and Chongyun are doing their best to remain quiet and inconspicuous. They’d be more successful if they weren’t holding each other’s hands so tightly.

“Of course. He’s under my protection too, after all,” Aether says.

“Will you be returning to your home near the city, now?”

His city home. Somehow, it feels like years since he’s stayed there.

“Not just yet— though I would like to fetch a few things from it soon.” He adds thoughtfully. “ For now, I’ll need to stay in Jueyun Karst with Chongyun and the adeptus who healed me… and in light of that, I would like to make a request.” He’ll need to tread carefully here. Qianfan is a generous man, but he does not take the safety of his sons lightly.

“Certainly! There is very little I could not grant you, Aether.”

Aether takes a deep breath. “With your permission, I’d like to bring Xingqiu back to Jueyun Karst for a visit, no longer than two or three days. He would remain under my protection and a guarantee of safety from Rex Lapis himself, as well as the adepti who serve him.”

Behind him, Xingqiu makes a choking sound, and— right, Aether had forgotten to mention his plan earlier. Oh well.

“To Jueyun Karst…” Qianfan echoes. “No more than three days, you said?”

“That would be all,” Aether says promptly. He hadn’t expected Qianfan to consider it so easily.

“I suppose I can’t do much better than a guarantee from both you and our Archon, can I? Very well. Xingqiu, if this is your wish, then I am happy to give you three days of such a rare opportunity.”

“Thank you, Father,” Xingqiu says, but there’s an edge of excitement in his voice.

“I leave him in your care, then,” Qianfan says, and Aether bows deeply. “Unfortunately, I still have some business to attend to, but you are free to use the estate for as long as you need. I know some others here are happy to see you as well.”

The many faces peering around the corners of nearby doorways and walls perk up, and Aether resists a little sigh. “Thank you, Qianfan.”

The man gives him a jaunty wave, and Aether scoops up little Yanyan and turns to the rest of the family, feeling Xingqiu and Chongyun silently return to stand at his back.

“Ah, Mister Shen. I’m sorry I wasn’t around to make the last batch of medicine,” he says as an older man steps out as the first to greet him. “How has your wife been?”

 

--

 

The sky is vibrant with orange and pink by the time Aether is able to extract himself from the Liang estate and set out for the fields where Zhongli and Xiao will meet them.

Much as he cares for the Liang family, meeting them all at once is exhausting, and Aether gratefully cradles his bond with Xiao close as they walk, drinking in the strength Xiao feeds him. At his side, Xingqiu is nearly skipping, even with Chongyun’s calmer touch as an anchor.

“How will we be going to Jueyun Karst, my liege?” He asks, eyes already searching over the faraway mountain peaks. “I’ve never gone so far from the harbor before… and of course, hardly any dare to travel to the home of the adepti.”

“We’ll be returning the same way we arrived,” Aether says absently. He can faintly sense Xiao’s presence skimming between the hills to their right, bright and strong.

“With Rex Lapis,” Chongyun adds, and Xingqiu misses a step.

“Wait. You mean— or rather, I’m going to meet him now?”

“It’ll be alright, Xingqiu,” Chongyun says, guileless. “Rex Lapis is very kind.”

“Right…” Xingqiu turns to Aether, a little wild. “My liege, you never mentioned this.”

Raising a brow, Aether carefully doesn’t mention that Xingqiu has absolutely met Rex Lapis before. “Well, how else did you think we’d gotten to the harbor? Oh, here we are.”

And rounding the curve of the path, they step out onto the large field where Zhongli is snoozing peacefully in his dragon form, butterflies collected over his nose and down his back. Near his head, Xiao stands watch— alert, Aether can feel, but not especially wary.

Snagging gentle fingers around Xingqiu’s wrist, Aether drags him out of his frozen shock and forward to meet Zhongli. Chongyun needs no convincing to move, not anymore, and Aether can’t help but smile when he trots up to Xiao and Zhongli with steps sure of a welcome.

Xiao inclines his head to Chongyun as Zhongli rumbles his way back to wakefulness, the butterflies scattering. “Hmm… greetings, Xingqiu.”

Aether releases his grip when Xingqiu snaps into a deep bow. “I am your humble servant, Rex Lapis. Thank you for allowing me this visit to your sacred home.”

With a huffing sound that Aether knows to be laughter, Zhongli rises to his feet and weaves his way over. “I was most pleased to hear that Aether had invited you. Be at ease. You are welcome here.”

Leaving Xingqiu to his stammerings (and Chongyun), Aether turns, drawn like a magnet back to Xiao’s side.

“Aether,” Xiao murmurs, and Aether eagerly rests his head on Xiao’s shoulder, drowning himself in Xiao’s scent.

“How are you feeling, after that?” he asks, and Xiao considers it.

“Strong.”

And if they can be apart, then that means finally, finally, all of Teyvat is open to him—

“Are you ready to go?” Zhongli asks, and Aether looks up and up to where Xingqiu is pressed back to front with Chongyun, his hands digging into Zhongli’s mane.

“We are,” Xiao says with a small nod. He extends a hand, almost shy, and Aether’s heart is ready to burst—

The winds stir at his call, twined with Xiao’s cutting shadows; Zhongli’s tail thumps into the ground, and then they’re soaring into the dusk, freer, perhaps, than any of them have ever been.

 

--

 

The Weaver of Fate feeds a new thread into her tapestry, smiles as the frame falls into place. Soon. Soon, her first mistake shall be repaired. Soon, her work will be whole.

 

--

 

A friendly breeze begins to tumble around them as they draw closer to the palace, and even before they reach the ground, Aether can hear the melody of a lyre calling into the sky.

Venti. Honestly, he’s a little surprised to see the Archon still around, when there’d been no trace of him that morning.

“You’re back!” Venti cheers when they land. “Oh, and with a new gues— Morax. Really? Again?”

“I do not question the way you choose to care for your nation, bard,” Zhongli rumbles.

“And I’m very grateful for that of course, blah, blah, blah, but ruling your nation and adopting all the people in it are two completely differ—"

Zhongli slams a huge claw on top of Venti without hesitation, and Aether can’t help a sharp gasp along with Chongyun and Xingqiu’s yelps— but then a hint of movement catches his eye, and watches as a little fairy-like creature squirms out from under the claw to flutter up to Zhongli’s face.

“So rude,” it squeaks, and oh, that must be… Venti’s Archon form? “And here I was waiting to tell you there’s been a new omen on the wind.”

With a short glance to where Chongyun and Xingqiu are still obviously stiff and nervous— reasonably so, around a displeased Archon— Zhongli sighs and relaxes.

“The news can wait, Venti. First I must help our visitor settle in.”

“Sure,” Venti says, still teasing, but gentler now. “Chongyun, is that your friend?”

“Yes, Lord— Mister— um, Venti,” Chongyun stumbles. “He’s here to visit since we had to stay apart for a while and I can’t return to the harbor yet…” He and Xingqiu share a look.

“My name is Xingqiu.” An uncertain bow accompanies the words. “And you are…?”

“Just call me Venti! And Morax, I’ll meet you inside.” With a wink, Venti sweeps himself up on a column of wind and disappears over the balcony railing far overhead.

Leaning in to Xingqiu’s ear, Aether whispers, “He’s Mondstadt’s Archon, I believe. But it doesn’t seem like he wants to treated as such.”

“…Then there are… two Archons?” Xingqiu’s face turns pale.

“I promise it’ll be alright.” Aether laughs quietly. “Immortals really aren’t so glorious as the stories like to say.”

Zhongli leads them inside then, still in his dragon form, and as expected, their first stop is Chongyun’s room so Xingqiu can set down his travel bag.

“I presume the two of you would rather share quarters?” Zhongli asks as Xingqiu inspects the room with the keen eye of a trade guild’s heir.

“Oh— yes. Thank you for your consideration, Rex Lapis.”

Neither Chongyun nor Xingqiu seem troubled by the single bed, which— well, it’s not as if any of them sleep alone these days, Aether supposes.

A short tour takes them through the kitchens, main hall, library, garden, and hall with Zhongli and Xiao’s rooms; and they finish with trek down to the now-darkened plateau that has become a permanent training ground.

“Xiao, Chongyun, and I practice down here almost every day,” Aether explains. “I hope you’ll join us.”

“Of course! I’ve been looking forward to seeing Chongyun’s new skills since I heard about them. What he demonstrated at the estate wasn’t nearly enough. And I’ll finally have a chance to see your swordsmanship in motion, with…” Xingqiu casts a nervous glace at Xiao as well. “The Vigilant Yaksha too, if he’ll allow it.”

“As long as you can protect yourself from the destruction caused by training, I care little whether or not you watch,” Xiao says, and Xingqiu nods eagerly.

With a final encouragement for Xingqiu to explore at will, Zhongli brings them back up to the palace and pauses before Chongyun’s room. “Here,” he rumbles low, extending a claw and scrap of paper to Xingqiu. “Carry this with you at all times while in Jueyun Karst. It will ward off most dangers here.”

Gingerly, Xingqiu accepts the paper, flipping it over to reveal a sigil of permission. His eyes grow wide. “I wonder how many years have passed since someone from Liyue Harbor was given one of these…”

“Perhaps longer than you can imagine,” Zhongli answers Xingqiu’s murmurings. “Now, I must go to Venti to finish our discussion, but you and Chongyun are free to do as you please. If any trouble arises, simply pray for me or Xiao.”

Chongyun nods at the familiar instruction even as Xingqiu mouths the words again, apparently struck silent.

“We’ll probably be in your library, if— if that’s alright?” Chongyun asks.

“Very good,” Zhongli nods easily. “Then, I will see you again for the evening meal.”

He sweeps his tail around as he turns, and Aether jolts when the tufted end of it nudges at his back. “Oh, are we joining you?”

“It will be best for you and Xiao also to hear Venti’s news, I believe.”

Aether meets Xiao’s eyes, but there’s no more understanding there than Aether has himself. With a shrug, he falls into step behind Zhongli, and Xiao’s fingers come to tangle in the sleeve of his dusty travel robe, not begging, just… close.

Aether has no trouble allowing his contentment to ring down the bond, and he smiles to himself when it echoes softly back.

As soon as this conversation with Venti is over, he’ll have to approach Xiao again about letting him join in the defense of Liyue. He should have a better chance while Xiao is more at ease, right?

Notes:

Mayhaps... they shall all get a little rest now
<3

Chapter 34: And I'll Make A Quiet Heaven of My Own

Notes:

Bonding Time(tm)

To all those asking about Shenhe's potential inclusion: Yes, I plan on it! Especially when her canon family backstory fits so well with the way I've characterized Chongyun's family lmao. I just need to find a place to fit her in naturally.

“Well, Venti?” Lord Rex asks as he leads them all into the guestroom, assuming his mortal form as he walks. “What is it that you heard?”

Barbatos kicks his legs over the edge of his bed, child-like, but his expression is perhaps as solemn as Xiao has ever seen it. “The winds keep whispering to me, telling of the malice sinking into the land. So I sought out the source while you were gone… and I found this.”

Paper rustles, and Xiao can sense the weak burn of a sigil of permission even before Barbatos opens his hand.

“A sigil...?” Lord Rex murmurs. “I did not create this.”

“I thought not. There was a man in the Guili ruins, along with a whole army’s worth of Fatui, all making copies of this paper.” Barbatos rips the sigil in half, and its power extinguishes with little more than a sigh. More proof that it could not have been made by Lord Rex’s hand. “They were distracted enough that I was able to snatch this one, but Morax… I don’t think it would be wise to leave them alone.”

Barbatos’s story is more than familiar. “It is Childe, Lord Rex,” Xiao says quietly, and Lord Rex turns sharply to him. “I had seen him before, in the days leading up to the Rite of Descension, but I had not expected his efforts to result in this. Forgive me. I should have—”

“No,” Lord Rex interrupts, voice heavy. “No, it is no fault of yours. Rather, I have been anticipating something of this nature, though I hoped it would not come to pass. Venti, was there any sign of Childe’s intention for the sigils?”

“Nothing obvious, at least, not to me.”

“I… may know something more,” Aether says, hesitant. “While I was in the harbor today, I paid a visit to the Tianquan, and she told me there has been unusual movement among the Fatui recently. They’ve been withdrawing their soldiers from Liyue, shifting their funds to other banks… and then there’s Childe’s recent behavior.”

“Oh, you know of Childe?” Lord Rex asks curiously, and Aether nods.

“I met him by coincidence on my first trip back to the harbor— though I didn’t realize he was your friend until later— and he came after Chongyun and I today. He seems corrupted, even more so than before. It was… reminiscent of Xiao’s aura, from before I purified his Heart.”

“Yes, the corruption of the Ley, the power he should not have been able to withstand… but I shall return to that later.” Lord Rex briefly closes his eyes, then opens them again. “You say the Tianquan noticed the Fatui attempting to sever their connections with Liyue?”

“Then maybe they expect destruction of some sort,” Barbatos says thoughtfully. “They want to reduce their losses. It was what the old nobility of Mondstadt often tried to do.”

“It is likely.” Lord Rex nods. “Thank you, Aether, Xiao. I will investigate this matter myself from here. As an Archon, I have put off my duties to the harbor long enough.”

“I’ll stick around until you bring word of your success, then,” Barbatos says, suddenly cheerful once more. “I think there’s still some wine I haven’t drunk.”

“…Xiao,” Lord Rex rumbles. “I must ask you to seal the kitchens and cellars from this pest while I am gone.”

Create a ward? Against the Archon of the wind? “Lord Rex…”

“I could probably do it,” Aether offers, a twist to his lips. “If you show me how.”

Betrayal,” Barbatos gasps as he falls back. “Remind me how old you are again?”

“Fate once wove twins from the light between Space and Time,” Aether says serenely, and Xiao— Xiao had been aware of Aether’s age, his status; but to hear it described as such is still to be struck dumb.

“…Perhaps I’ll leave your stores alone, then,” Barbatos laughs, a little too loud.

“As I am now, I’m sure you could defeat me with ease, Venti. But I appreciate your consideration.”

“If we are done here, I suggest we all rest early to face whatever may come tomorrow,” Lord Rex murmurs. “I would invite Xingqiu to join us in the nest, if he is amenable.”

“I’ll ask him,” Aether promises.

Barbatos hops up and balances on his toes before Lord Rex. “And me?

“…Join if you must.”

A wide grin splits Barbatos’s face, and he skips out the door and away toward Lord Rex’s room without another word. Xiao cannot help but stare after him as he goes. Enduring the god’s… inconsistency is much like being tossed on a violent gale, one that leaves him unharmed, but helpless in its wake. Xiao leans a little closer to Aether’s calm light and Lord Rex’s stone-heavy presence.

Relief.

 

--

 

Aether goes to fetch Chongyun and Xingqiu while Xiao follows Lord Rex back to his nest.

It is in the dim quiet of the hall that he is at last able to pick apart the threads of his bond with Aether— a bond that has now strained and endured, that glows with a steadiness built so slowly that Xiao had hardly noticed it at all. Aether is strong, content, beautiful. No longer is he bound to Xiao’s side like a bird in a cage, no longer does distance threaten to return them both to the earth. And yet… Aether stays.

He stays, and Xiao does not burn with the fear of being left behind.

Distant amusement flutters in his Heart from some word that has reached Aether’s ear, and Xiao cradles the feeling close, as he might with one of Aether’s offerings. In a way, it is.

They reach Lord Rex’s quarters, where Lord Rex takes his adeptal form and unceremoniously sweeps a lounging Barbatos to the side of the nest. Unmoved by the resulting yelp, he coils himself in the same space he always does, and invites Xiao closer with a soft purr.

Voices from the hall announce Aether’s return, and Xiao watches on as he and Chongyun drag the other human, Xingqiu, across the threshold.

“My liege, I really don’t think—”

“Xingqiu, he wanted us to join him, are you really just going to refuse?” Chongyun begs. “I promise it’s fine, it’s— it’s safe. You don’t have to worry.”

“At least greet him,” Aether says, coaxing. “Then you can decide for yourself, as Chongyun did.”

Xiao leans aside so Lord Rex can dip his head forward.

“Hello, Xingqiu. My apologies for the sudden invitation.”

“Aha, not at all, Rex Lapis. Please, excuse my interruption, I’ll just be heading back to Chongyun’s room now—”

“You may go if you wish,” Lord Rex nods. “But I would like to request one last time that you stay here for the night.”

Aether slips into the nest then, and they must have stopped at his and Xiao’s room along the way, because his travel clothes have been exchanged for a soft, thin robe and his hair spills loosely down his back. There is purpose in the way Aether rests his head upon Xiao’s thigh and presses back against Lord Rex’s scales, and Xiao has no trouble discerning the reason when Xingqiu’s gaze is so intent upon them.

Carefully, Xiao curls into himself, small and unthreatening as his appearance will allow, and strokes a hand down Aether’s arm. Xingqiu is merely another fragile, transient mortal, but Xiao has no wish to harm that which Chongyun and Aether so care for.

“I…” Xingqiu’s voice comes much weaker than before. “Yunyun, are you really going to…”

Chongyun grasps Xingqiu’s hands, earnest. “I would sleep here— I have— but it’s alright, Xingqiu, I… I know it’s hard. We can go back to my room.” Turning back to Lord Rex, he offers a shaky bow. “I’m sorry, Rex Lapis, but may we—?”

“Of course,” Lord Rex interrupts gently. “Rest well, you two.”

With a final, wide-eyed glance over Lord Rex’s divine vessel, Xingqiu follows Chongyun from the room, leaving the sourness of uncertain regret in his wake. In their absence, Lord Rex curls tighter around Xiao and Aether, and even nudges at Barbatos as the touch of a soothing breeze meets Xiao’s skin.

With a quiet sigh, Aether rises from his previous position and settles nearer to Lord Rex’s head— it is only natural that Xiao would move with him. Something stirs in the bond as Aether’s gaze flickers up to his.

“Hey, Xiao?” A quiet voice. “If we no longer have to stay together all the time, when do you think you’ll have to return to your duties?”

As soon as Lord Rex commands it— but Aether well knows that, so what could be causing him such worry? “Not yet,” is all Xiao can say.

“I was just hoping…” Aether pauses. Swallows, loud. “No, nevermind.”

His hesitance leaves Xiao uneasy, but surely Aether would not hide important knowledge from him. With a nod, he leans back, and Aether offers him a fleeting smile.

The steady thrum of a dragon’s heart and blood surrounds them, joined this night by the chime of a clear sky, and it is there that Aether quietly stretches out to sleep. Soon, Xiao, too, finds himself drowsing a little, though he keeps himself firmly anchored to the waking world.

 

“They are rather cute, aren’t they?” Barbatos’s whisper trickles in. “All these little strays you’ve collected.”

“They are mine.”

“And for all my teasing, old friend, it seems you take good care of them— though I must say I still can’t quite figure out how you manage to treat Aether like one under your protection, nor why Aether lets you do it.”

“…His soul is gentle, and he has clearly seen much.” Lord Rex’s voice is almost too low to hear. “I could not have hoped for anyone better to bring Xiao peace.”

“Hmm.” The sound is lilting. “Maybe I’ll try your methods for myself someday. Despite my efforts, Mondstadt has a few lost souls of her own, after all.”

Silence falls then, and Xiao turns his ear to the cry of night birds and howl of the mountain wind where he once would have been able to sense nothing but festering pits of darkness. Even rooms apart, the power of Chongyun’s aura is wondrous indeed, it seems.

 

--

 

Lord Rex slips from his nest as the first dawn light begins to seep through the windows, leaving Xiao and Barbatos alone with a yet-sleeping Aether.

Xiao turns a wary eye to the Archon, but Barbatos only smiles and taps a single finger over his lips in response. He does not intend to rouse Aether before it is time, then. Good.

As the remaining shadows of night are banished from the corners of Lord Rex’s room, faint sounds begin to reach Xiao’s ear— undoubtedly Chongyun and Xingqiu rising for the day. Pattering footsteps, a hushed burst of laughter, the thud of some harmless tumble… it is enough that Xiao nearly fails to notice Aether’s fluttering eyelids as he wakes.

“Good morning!” Barbatos chirps, but for all his unnecessary energy, the words remain quiet.

“Oh. Venti?” Aether blinks a few times. “Good morning. And to you too, Xiao.” His lips meet Xiao’s cheek, and Xiao holds him tighter.

 

Breakfast is… a loud affair. With five— and later six, when Ganyu stumbles in— people filling the kitchen, and a bubbling pot of soup large enough to perhaps have served at one of the long-ago adeptal festivals, Xiao is left… unsettled. Floating just beyond the confines of his body.

Quietly, he hunches over the counter where Aether had asked him to chop vegetables and soaks up the bright calm drifting through their bond. Barbatos sweeps past him, bumping into Xiao’s arm, and yet he feels nothing but a distant annoyance as Barbatos leaves an apology in his wake.

“You really think I can?” Chongyun is saying, and he leans over the pot as he speaks.

“Not to say you could dip your face in that and come out unharmed,” Aether responds, and Xingqiu coughs unusually loud at his side. “But with the curse removed, your power is stable— even if you are still mastering control— and heat shouldn’t give you any more trouble than it would another cryo Vision holder. Give it a try, at least.”

As if mesmerized, Chongyun trails his fingers through the shimmering heat over the stove. “I will.”

“Xiao, are you eating today or would you just like tea?” Aether calls.

Xiao stares down at the heap of chopped plants on the board before him. Smells their bitterness and feels them crunch beneath his knife. “…Only the tea.” Even the earthy sweetness he favors might not settle in his stomach today. Why does his body still fight him, even now? Why, when Aether works so hard to make foods Xiao can eat, when Xiao wants nothing more than to please him by doing so?

Ceramic clinks as Aether brings out a cup for him. “Ganyu, why don’t you go and rest? We’ll finish up here and bring everything out to the dining hall once it’s ready.”

“Oh… are you sure?”

“You’ve been working nonstop for days now, right?” Aether places a hand on her back to nudge her out the door. “And I’m sure there will be more to do soon, if the business with the Fatui isn’t resolved.”

“I’ll keep you company!” Barbatos adds without hesitation.

So Ganyu goes with him, and they are soon followed by Chongyun, then Xingqiu, leaving only Aether and Xiao to breathe the steam-heavy air of the kitchen.

“Are you alright, Xiao?”

“I…” Xiao hesitates. “They are… vast.”

He hardly expects Aether to understand what Xiao cannot give name to even in his own mind, but Aether dips his head with a soft smile.

“I guess they would be, huh? Especially after the centuries you had to spend alone. Is it a bad thing?”

A chaos that does not destroy, that bubbles with life, that fills Xiao’s Heart with peace rather than ancient hatred.

“No. They could never be bad.”

Xiao breathes in, and Aether is there, pressing their lips together with an intent even the first kiss had not held. Xiao jolts, but does not pull away, and the dry brush of Aether’s lips soon leaves as his eyes flutter back open. There is no explanation, no purposeful tug of the bond— but perhaps Xiao does not need one.

“Ready to join the others again?”

He takes Aether’s hand and follows.

 

--

 

Chongyun empties two bowlfuls of soup, a stunned expression on his face from beginning to end, and Xiao watches him with an odd satisfaction. Is it because he will no longer have to smell the boy’s unhappiness at every other meal, or does it perhaps have something to do with their friendship?

Whatever the case, breakfast ends without interruption, and Xiao leads a quiet Chongyun and Xingqiu down to the training ground while Aether and Ganyu force Barbatos to stay behind and clean with them.

Xiao wonders what he has lost— or gained?— that he no longer fears the Archon’s wrath at such bold disrespect.

“Will I be practicing elemental flow again today, Vigilant Yaksha?” Chongyun asks, and Xiao nods shortly.

“Ganyu will be the one to train you, when she returns.”

This system is familiar by now, the most practical according to Xiao’s skill and Chongyun’s needs; so they both look up when Xingqiu abruptly speaks.

“Please excuse my forwardness, when I only asked to watch earlier, but— might I join in Chongyun’s training as well? It would be foolish of me to miss any chance to learn from an adeptus.”

The boy’s speech is strange— respectful as it should be in the face of the divine, yet lacking much of the fear Chongyun had borne at his own arrival at the palace. His aura is dim as any other mortal’s, but keen enough to set him apart. His bearing uncertain, but attentive. Perhaps he will be strong enough to train with them after all.

“Very well. But I will test you before you can begin.”

“Thank you, Vigilant Yaksha. I would expect nothing less,” Xingqiu says, and they continue on.

 

When they step onto the grassy plateau, Xiao wastes no time in bringing Xingqiu to the center.

“You will fight me as your test.”

“Vigilant Yaksha?” Chongyun yelps, but Xiao ignores the plea. Friend though Xingqiu might be, he must prove his own worth.

A crack appears in Xingqiu’s confident glow, but he steps forward all the same, sword forming in his hand. It will do.

Leaving his Vision untouched, Xiao lunges in, finds his path obscured by a screen of water as the boy darts sharply away. Around his body dance thin elemental blades, a protection of hydro.

Xiao spins at a fraction of his battle speed, allowing Xingqiu to parry as he tests the force and give of each movement. More water arcs off the edge of his sword, as upright and graceful as his movements, needlessly flourishing as they may be. The boy’s instincts are passable, and the control he wields over his Vision is perhaps even stricter than that of an adeptus— there will be no need to continue this fight.

With a nod, Xiao lowers his weapon, leaving Xingqiu hunched and breathing hard. “You may join Chongyun if you wish.”

Xingqiu’s face brightens, and Chongyun chirps out some excitement from behind.

“Begin with meditation as usual.”

Aether, Ganyu, and Barbatos arrive on the field soon afterward, and after whispering a soft thank you into Xiao’s ear, Aether goes to settle at Chongyun’s side. Barbatos follows, though only to flit disruptively around them, and Xiao watches as the winds born from his power dash themselves against the calmer breezes Aether calls.

“How did Xingqiu fare against you?” Ganyu asks quietly— for she knows Xiao well enough after a thousand years.

“I have no objection to his stay here.”

Ganyu smiles faintly. “I’m glad.”

They stand back to watch the other four in silence, until Chongyun, precise as ever in his training, opens his eyes just as the sun lifts above the highest peak of Jueyun Karst. Ganyu leads from there.

 

“…two, three. Rise and fall.”

Aether, Chongyun, and Xingqiu follow her chi-directing movements, Aether correctly infusing his steps with anemo and Xingqiu beginning to align with his own element. Chongyun, though he is focused as always and his aura is blinding with power, cannot seem to do the same. Xiao does not understand it.

“Hmm, Aether is quite skilled, isn’t he?” Barbatos muses. “I never really had the chance to study it before. Did you teach him?”

Xiao glances to his side, at the Archon’s attentive expression. “Very little. The time he spent alone in Liyue Harbor…” Left without guide or comfort or hope, and Xiao again regrets— “He learned on his own. I could only show him control.”

Barbatos makes a curious noise. “The two of you really are a contradiction. The cutting gales of moon-shadowed night and the searing glory of a sun tempest, only growing more powerful when twined as one… oh! I could make a new ballad out of this.”

A pen and page appear in the Archon’s hand, and he wanders off to the side, muttering senselessly under his breath.

“Ganyu, if I could make a suggestion,” Aether’s thoughtful voice cuts straight to Xiao’s ear.

“Of course.”

“What if we let Xingqiu teach Chongyun? Just for this.”

Confusion creeps over Ganyu’s face, quieter than Chongyun and Xingqiu’s cries of “What?”

“I think…” Aether starts. “After all I’ve seen during these past weeks of training, it seems like the only thing Chongyun can’t do is willingly bring his elemental flow to the surface, since he certainly isn’t lacking in restraint or raw power. To beings like us— gods and adepti, that is— this sort of elemental power is who we are, so we learn how to refine it, rather than summon it. But to humans, gaining a Vision would be much more like picking up a new weapon— no matter how important it is, of course they would still need to learn how to wield it.”

“Then… have we been teaching him the wrong things?” Ganyu murmurs.

“No,” Aether says with a tilting of his head. “I imagine we’ve just skipped a step. But of course, it might not work at all. Xingqiu?”

“I… will try by best, my liege, but I received my Vision young enough that I feel it has become a part of me as well.”

“Maybe,” Aether agrees. “But you still had to learn how to use it.”

Gaze flickering over Xiao, Aether, and Ganyu in turn, Xingqiu slowly dissipates his sword and faces Chongyun instead. “Then… Yunyun, will you show me what you’ve practiced so far?”

A tug at Xiao’s sleeve draws his attention away from the two mortals, and he follows without protest when Aether gently leads both him and Ganyu away to the edge of the plateau.

“No need to give them an audience,” Aether murmurs.

Xiao can still see and hear their every movement, and even Ganyu will surely able to do the same— but perhaps this distance is enough to reassure a human? Aether seems intent upon ignoring the center of the field entirely, no matter that they are still within sight.

Settling himself down in the grass, Aether plucks a few white blossoms and beckons to Xiao with a smile. “Can I braid these into your hair?”

More fragile, pretty things that do not belong to him. But if they are from Aether, that is all that matters.

Xiao sits in the space between Aether’s outstretched legs and tilts his head back, sighing as light fingers begin to comb through his hair. It is tangled again— only Aether bothers to brush it, after all, and it has been days since he’d last given Xiao such attention.

Xiao drifts as Aether weaves a thin braid around the sides of his head and down his back, hands pausing here and there to add what must be the flowers. Distantly, he can hear Ganyu shuffling around, but he does not rouse himself for the noise. She is no threat.

“Done,” Aether whispers some time later, and Xiao lifts heavy eyelids and allows his body to fall into Aether’s grasp without another thought. The scent of sunshine after rain fills his nose, and he buries himself firmly against Aether’s neck. It is strange— their bond is strong, vibrant with Aether’s life, and yet Xiao feels so slow and hazy. Close by, Ganyu squeaks oddly, but Xiao ignores that as well.

If he could only shake the stagnance of his limbs…

“Is something wrong, Xiao?”

Can Aether sense this weight too? That— no, he does not want Aether to be concerned for this moment of weakness. Clawing into his own mind, Xiao forces himself up and up out of the fog until he can pull away from Aether’s shoulder. The loss sinks into his chest like a blade.

“It is nothing,” he manages to say.

Aether’s worry pins him in place until Ganyu’s voice suddenly breaks through the stillness.

“There.”

With a final glance at Xiao, Aether turns. “How does it look?”

Xiao blinks. Aether’s hair is out of its usual knot and now trails down his back in a loose braid, the little white flowers woven between each strand— gold scattered with snow. A work born of Aether’s beauty and Ganyu’s skill. Art Aether deserves, that Xiao cannot provide.

He had extended a hand to touch, but now he drops it. Still, he keeps his breaths steady. Aether is not so cruel as to reject Xiao for this; not so demanding as to make Xiao learn, even if he should.

A sudden cry from the center of the plateau makes Xiao jolt up as cryo flares, towering and bright at the edge of his vision—

Three blades of pure frost— Xingqiu’s unique swords, now frozen— plunge to the earth, a cloud of dust and thunder rising from each impact.

“Yes!" Chongyun’s yell comes, delirious above the final echoes of chaos, and Xiao sacrifices warning for speed to warp to his side

“Xiao, Xiao.” Shaking hands grasp at Xiao’s, and huge, ice-bright eyes meet his. Xiao’s ears ring with the sound of his name in Chongyun’s voice, the traces of worship and offering within.

“Xiao, Ganyu, I did it. I— I understand.”

Ganyu steps up beside Xiao, pats the top of Chongyun’s head. “Well done,” she praises, and Chongyun glows under her touch.

Warmth bleeds through Xiao’s veins, and what it means, he does not know, but—

“Spar with me,” he says, and all eyes turn to him. Xiao locks his gaze with Chongyun’s. “Show me your strength.”

“Xiao,” Ganyu whispers, “are you sure—”

Catalyst sparking into being between his hands— because Chongyun must test himself against one of the adepti he has long thought out of reach, and Ganyu cannot wield a catalyst the way Xiao does— Xiao takes one, two, three steps toward Chongyun. “Come.”

The fear in Chongyun’s eyes slowly crystallizes to something sharp and bright, and his weapon appears above one hand as a talisman of ice freezes between the fingers of the other.

They strike as one.

A storm of frost spirals up where their powers meet, and Xiao slips aside to clear the air and let Chongyun press forward. And he does, gracelessly crashing into Xiao’s space, his feet skipping and skimming over the ground— light, but never floating. Xiao rises on a column of wind and casts down a shearing blade, watching for Chongyun’s defense. With a frantic motion, the boy puts up a curved sheen of ice, much like the crest of a wave, and though Xiao’s attack shatters it, Chongyun remains untouched.

Good. Good.

Faster and faster Xiao strikes, forcing Chongyun to match him— or else fall. Sweat glitters on Chongyun’s face, but he relentlessly chases on, uneven spears of ice forming at his hand to counter Xiao’s assault.

He is undoubtedly careless, clumsy— had this been a real fight, Chongyun would have been slaughtered at once— but Xiao has been watching him for weeks, guiding his hand and learning the trails of his mind. Understanding what he has shed and gained. And now that Chongyun has both power and the will to use it, their training can truly begin.

In a blur of shadow, Xiao ends the spar, pinning Chongyun firmly to the ground and sweeping away the remnants of ice around them. Chongyun struggles for a moment, no doubt by instinct, before slowly falling limp.

A strange hush settles over the plateau as Xiao releases his grip and sits back on his heels.

Aether is watching with his hands clenched together over his chest, his side of the bond sparking with pride and awe, while Xingqiu’s breath seems to be coming in short, wheezing gasps— is he perhaps struggling to inhale? Ganyu beams, and Barbatos, too, comes trotting across the grass to join them, his pen and paper abandoned.

“Well that was exciting,” he says, clapping his hands together. “It’s not every day to you get to see a mortal competing with an adeptus, after all.”

“I… don’t think the Vigilant Yaksha was trying very hard.” Chongyun looks up at him, clearly dazed.

“Xiao.” Suddenly, Xiao does not want to hear his title, no matter that it was one he chose for himself. “You called me Xiao, before. Continue doing so.”

“Huh—? But Vig— Xia— I couldn’t disrespect you like that,” Chongyun stumbles.

With a breath of a laugh, Aether steps forward. “You wouldn’t be,” he says, gentle. “It just means he doesn’t want to see you as a distant mortal, or you to see him as something to be worshipped. He was the same in the days we first met.”

“But you’re different, Aether…”

Chongyun’s voice is lost to Xiao’s thoughts. Is that what he wants? Is this another aspect of their connection of “friendship”? Would he go if Chongyun were to call him?

…Xiao cannot imagine a time when he would choose to ignore Chongyun’s cry. He looks back up to where Chongyun is staring down at himself, perhaps uncomprehending, Xingqiu’s arm resting over his shoulders.

“Since you’ve now taken hold of your elemental flow,” Ganyu says, extending a hand. “Shall we continue where we left off?”

Notes:

Flowers~

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Chapter 35: What Lies Beneath

Notes:

 

 

TW: Major d/s scene

Chongyun nearly seems to float as Ganyu guides him through the remainder of his elemental training with Xingqiu and Aether, innocent wonder in every twist of his hands and flicker of his eyes.

Even as Xiao watches, he improves. Showers of ice turn to rough blades that turn to towering swords— echoes of his long-shattered claymore. The chill in the air around him grows to a blizzard, and his exorcisms strengthen from faint bursts of energy to pulses that shake the ground and momentarily obscure Xiao’s senses.

Frost clings to Chongyun’s lashes and hair and dances with his every movement, making him sparkle in the sunlight. A strangled noise at Xiao’s left draws his attention, and he blinks at the sight of Xingqiu shaking as he all but strains after Chongyun, Aether patting him on the shoulder.

Xiao turns away. He has seen stranger things.

Then, as the sun crests the sky, a mist begins to roll in— fine, at first, then heavier and heavier until even Xiao cannot see from one end of the plateau to the other. Trailing his fingers through the fog, Xiao frowns. The mountain clouds rarely descend so early in the day, and never do so during the dry season.

Though he cannot sense any darkness twined within the mist, Chongyun’s aura is strong enough to perhaps be burning away any sign of it.

“Shall we finish here, then?” He hears Ganyu call, and soon she and Chongyun emerge from the clouds to join them

“Did you see, Xingqiu?” Chongyun asks as he bounds over, mist still crystallizing to ice in his wake.

Xingqiu inhales visibly. “I did, Yunyun. You’ve made excellent progress, most admirable for the path to eradicating evil from this world! Perhaps we will even be able to spar soon.”

“I don’t know if I could keep up with you yet…”

“Of course you can! You fought the Conqueror of Demons himself and came out unharmed. What greater proof could there be?”

Xiao opens his mouth, ready to correct Xingqiu’s false assumption that Chongyun had been his match, but he is stopped by the hand that comes to rest softly over his parted lips. Aether.

When he turns to look, Aether smiles and shakes his head minutely, mouth wrapping around a silent plea.

“Well… maybe,” Chongyun says, ducking his head, and then it is over.

 

“This fog sure is something, huh?” Barbatos says as they begin their careful journey back up the path to the palace. “Is it usually like this around here?”

Xiao shakes his head as Ganyu says, “No, this is a particularly rare occurrence. I wonder if…”

Barbatos hums. “The winds struggle to reach me through the stillness of cloud, but those that do find me are heavy. Not with a threat, exactly… maybe a warning. Hm.”

Abruptly, his solemnity breaks and he lifts his hands in a shrug that rolls through his entire body. “Ah, well. I’m sure it’ll be fine! We have two adepti, an Archon, and Aether to protect us, not to mention the old blockhead’s wards over every inch of this place.”

Xiao growls at the disrespect toward Lord Rex, but there is little he can truly do against the Archon of the wind.

“What shall we do next? Or rather, is there normally something you do in the afternoon? Eat? Sleep? Drink some good wine?”

“We train,” Xiao says stiffly. “But these conditions are not favorable for mortals.”

Barbatos’s jaw drops. “More training, when I was tired just watching you all? I’m starting to think this weather is a good thing.”

“I— we could keep going, Vig— Xiao,” Chongyun says earnestly. “I’ve trained under worse conditions.”

Worse than combat with an adeptus in a fog thick enough to obscure a nearby cliff’s edge? For a fleeting moment, Xiao considers breaking the contract of protection he swore under Lord Rex, if only for the sake of striking down the next mortal with white robes and a silver sword he finds roaming Liyue’s wilds.

He recoils at the thought; at his brazen disobedience, but it continues to sting at the edge of his consciousness.

“No,” he says. “You may rest today.”

“Yunyun, you mentioned earlier you wanted to try a hot bath,” Xingqiu speaks up. “Is that something we could do now? It would be most relaxing after our training.”

A hot bath…. Memories of damp stone, luminescent caves, and his own bitter fear rise to the surface of Xiao’s mind.

“There are some small springs in the palace,” Aether muses. “But I imagine there’s something bigger elsewhere?”

“Beneath Mount Aocang,” Ganyu nods. “Though it may be rather difficult to reach in this fog.”

“Well, we can always try agai—”

“I can carry us,” Barbatos says brightly. “Morax usually ferries you all around, right? I’m no dragon, but I can at least do this.”

“…If it’s no trouble, Lord Barbatos…” Ganyu murmurs.

“It’s Venti! Ven. Ti. Really, how do you manage to survive being so formal all the time?” Wind stirs around them, churning the fog. “And of course it’s no trouble. Just tell me where to go.”

--

Through unease still clings to Xiao’s skin like the mist, he nevertheless flies alongside Aether and Barbatos, skimming alongside the currents used to carry those without an anemo Vision.

Soon, Mount Aocang looms dark and shrouded before them, and Xiao dives for the low entrance of the cave. He comes to a stop as his feet splash into the marshy ground. Hundreds of years, and still this place has changed little.

Chongyun and Xingqiu’s screams descend from above as Barbatos allows them to plunge back to the earth, but the sound soon turns to murmurs of awe when they land. Ganyu leads them all into the cavern beyond.

Steam from the simmering pools rises into the air, indistinguishable from the mist outside, and Xiao picks his way over to one of the middle pools, away from the glow of the walls and daylight from the mouth of the cave. He is… restless. Not even during his quieter visits to this place with Lord Rex and Ganyu had he bared himself to join them in the water. Will he be expected to do so now, among this crowd?

“It’s so pretty,” Chongyun voice comes as he swirls a finger through the light-touched spring. “But it is very hot… I don’t know…”

“It’ll be alright, Yunyun,” Xingqiu murmurs. “Besides, Aether and I are here should anything go amiss.”

A splash echoes through the space as Barbatos jumps into the water without hesitation, then surfaces a moment later with a screech. “Hot! Hot!”

Ganyu laughs, fluttering and nervous. “Please be careful, Lord Venti.” Her descent into the water beside him is far more graceful.

One pool away, Chongyun and Xingqiu slowly return to their task of undressing after they had abruptly turned away when Ganyu had begun discarding her clothes. Xingqiu dips into the hot spring first, holding Chongyun’s hand as the latter hisses and flinches with every step deeper.

“Xingqiu— I don’t—”

“You’re alright, Yunyun,” Xingqiu coos. “Just take some time to get used to it. I have you.”

Though he had shown a mischievous streak before, Xingqiu’s words now are nothing but gentle, reassuring. His behavior now, Xiao realizes, is perhaps akin to that which Xiao and Aether share— but Chongyun had never spoken of such a bond with Xingqiu before. What, then, is their connection?

“Xiao,” Aether calls, and Xiao turns his attention from the two mortals. “Will you join us?”

Xiao had been expecting the question, but the knowledge does not stop the unpleasant jolt in his chest. He has bathed under Aether’s watch before, knows that he can— and yet he still hesitates with his hands at his collar. Weak. Cowardly.

Aether’s sudden hand on his arm draws him a step further into the cave, away from the others, away from the revealing light of day. “You don’t have to, you know. It’s alright. I’ll stay out here with you.”

If Aether were to deny himself for Xiao’s sake— no, that is something Xiao cannot accept.

Closing his eyes, Xiao tears away his robe, his sash, his undergarments, leaving them to pile in the place he would sit and wait in days long gone. Aether sighs something soft and unintelligible against his ear, and Xiao cannot help but shiver, even in the warm air. Comfort ripples down the bond as Aether moves to stand between Xiao and the cave’s entrance— perhaps in an attempt to shield him from the others. It is futile, when his body is little larger than Xiao’s, and yet Xiao breathes easier in his shadow.

Scars stinging in the open, Xiao hunches into himself. No longer does he need to fear harming those he has been chosen to protect, nor does he fear that they might strike him in his weakness, but— this place still holds a remnant of himself, one that did fear, one that had lost those who had given him new reason to live, one that was never to be allowed the warmth and ease of such pointless things as a bath.

“Aether,” he whispers, helpless, and Aether is there, arms wrapping firmly around Xiao’s torso, pressing them chest to back.

“Let’s get in the water, shall we?”

Searing heat envelops him, and Xiao suddenly, desperately needs to escape, to get out of the water that exposes him; that is forbidden—

“Breathe,” Aether murmurs, and— oh. It is a command.

Xiao’s next inhale rasps loud in his own ears as he offers himself to the gentle swell and tug of Aether’s will, fear blissfully trickling from his mind. This place cannot be forbidden if his master wishes him to be here, nor is there any need to run when his master cradles him so warmly in his arms. Aether’s fingers trail sparks across Xiao’s ugly scars, and he wants Xiao in spite of them.

Because of them?

“More,” Xiao manages to say, and— yes, he is certain he will be allowed to speak here in Aether’s hold. “More, Aether, please—”

“I’m all yours.” Aether’s breath stirs Xiao’s hair. “What do you need?”

All he wants is quiet. “…Everything is— loud. And I..."

“Of course. Lean forward for me, Xiao.”

And Xiao bends to him, shifting through the water as if it were air, feeling his Heart thrum with the touch of the command.

Hands come to tug lightly at his hair, twisting and unweaving, and soon, the white flowers of the training field begin to drift across the surface of the pool, surrounding them with a faint sweetness. A jar clinks against stone. The soft bristles of what must be a brush drag over Xiao’s scalp.

The sound of stirring waters lulls Xiao as Aether works, his world narrowed to nothing but the touch on his skin and this shadowed corner of the spring. Aether unknots Xiao’s hair in rhythmic strokes, steady and unhurried, until each strand is silken and the brush is exchanged for Aether’s fingers.

“Focus here,” Aether whispers, and Xiao slowly melts away with each drag of Aether’s hands from his scalp down to the hair trailing into the water.

He finds his breaths aligning with Aether’s motions— up and down with in and out, and can think of no reason to stop.

“You’re so beautiful, Xiao. Turn around for me?”

He will, whatever Aether asks.

When Xiao moves, settling on the stone step below Aether, soft fingertips come to tuck beneath his chin, and he stares up into warmly golden eyes. They are intent upon him, sharp and alert, and Xiao drifts more for their unmistakable protection.

“May I?” Aether asks, holding up a cloth and a block of soap, and Xiao feels his head dip in a nod.

In washing, Aether does not linger as he had upon Xiao’s hair. Xiao remains pliant as Aether lifts his arms, scrubs firmly across his back, and gently lifts him to reach his thighs and calves. There is neither pain nor pleasure, but Xiao is already settled deep within himself, and as long as the touch is Aether’s, the sensations are inconsequential.

Once the bubbles of soap are washed away into the pool, glittering in Xiao’s hazy vision, Aether’s oil-slick fingers meet Xiao’s shoulders and neck and face, rubbing gentle and steady.

It is strange, but— Xiao has seen other adepti take part in such things before, as part of the crafting of their appearances. He had simply never expected to join their number.

Aether seems to use special care when coating Xiao’s horns and the remnant seal over his arm and shoulder, but when Xiao attempts to tell him it is unnecessary, he finds his body far too heavy even to move his lips.

It should be alarming. Xiao only nestles himself deeper into Aether’s grasp.

More oil, this time bearing the scent of silkflowers, is brushed into Xiao’s hair, before he is at last allowed to turn fully against Aether’s chest and lay down his head.

“You’ve done so well, Xiao,” Aether’s soft praise washes over him, like dewdrops in the warm dawn. “Thank you for letting me take care of you.”

Other voices begin to echo around them, distant to Xiao’s senses, and Aether begins to urge him from the water. In a way, this, too, is familiar, stirring memories of his first day here with the yaksha, Xiao detached and hazy as the others cared for him. Only now, he has Aether to ground him.

“Stay with Chongyun,” Aether murmurs as he finishes wiping down Xiao’s skin and folds a soft robe over his shoulders. “I’m going to finish washing myself, and I’ll be right back.”

Aether’s touch parts from him, slow, like a promise, and is soon replaced by the brush of Chongyun’s skin— warm for the first time since Xiao has known him. He leans into the body beside him, unsteady on his feet. Chongyun will not harm him, will keep any corruption that might find them at bay.

“I don’t— Lady Ganyu, what am I supposed to do with him?” Chongyun’s voice stumbles.

“Come, we’ll take him just outside. It will best not to move him too much in this state. At least, not until Aether returns.”

A breeze curls, perhaps affectionate, over Xiao’s skin as he is led outside the cave, a sign that Barbatos is also nearby. When Chongyun sits, back against a tree in the grass, Xiao sinks down with him, the world still muffled by the remnants of Aether’s commands.

The leadenness is back, his vision dim and limbs heavy. But Chongyun is beside him, pure and clean, Ganyu’s bright presence stands guard beyond, and an Archon’s power stirs around them all. Lord Rex is not near to require Xiao’s service, and Aether… Aether will surely return soon, gentle and pleased. What is there to do but wait?

Xiao allows his eyes to slip shut.

And the darkness bears him away.

 

--

 

Voices filter in.

“Aether, he just fell asleep— I didn’t mean—"

A quiet laugh. “It’s alright, Chongyun. He just hasn’t slept in… a very long time, is all. I’m glad you gave him a place to rest.”

Around him there is nothing but light. Xiao drifts again.

 

-

 

“… but should— should I move him? He looks so uncomfortable…”

“Hmm… we can try. Let me make sure he doesn’t feel like he has to wake up.”

Fingers twine with Xiao’s, and Aether surges into their bond, calming the ripples of Xiao’s mind. Safe. He is safe.

Aether’s touch moves with him when he is shifted down, down, head coming to rest on something cool and padded with fabric. Xiao breathes.

 

-

 

“…ao. Xiao,” Aether’s voice hums at his ear. “It’s time to wake up. Come back to me?”

The command in the words is nothing more than a suggestion, a whisper. But Aether is calling.

Xiao opens his eyes to a twilight mist and Chongyun’s worry-creased face peering down at him. Why is he so close to the ground?

His head on Chongyun’s leg. Damp grass at his back. Aether’s fingers stroking slowly up and down his arm, sending threads of calm into his veins. He… he had slept.

“Good morning, Xiao,” Aether says with a smile, and though it is far from morning, Xiao nods. He feels strange; his body steady, his mind quiet.

Slowly, he pushes himself up until he is able to kneel at Chongyun’s side, extending his senses as he always does, only now— now they reach and reach, through the mist, beyond the shimmering border of Chongyun’s aura, out past the mountains of Jueyun Karst to the traces of darkness there—

Xiao is not straining for this new sight, nor is there any pain. What has happened to him?

“Xiao?” Aether asks, echoing Xiao’s confusion back across the bond.

“I can… see.” And reaching for his Heart, Xiao fills it, pouring out his senses so Aether may momentarily share his power and understand the impossibility of this change.

“Oh…”

“What is it?” Chongyun’s wavering voice shakes Xiao’s concentration, and his connection with Aether falters.

“So there are still things you will need to hunt,” Aether murmurs. “With Chongyun’s power I had wondered…. But isn’t this a good thing? You’re rested, and your body has strengthened to match.”

Xiao stares down at himself. Is this what it means to sleep, to sacrifice all awareness in the moment for power in the future? “…Perhaps.”

“Are— are you alright, Xiao?” Chongyun asks, timid, and Xiao looks at him. This mortal had served him, had protected Xiao at risk to himself and without anything to gain in return. Had watched over him as a yaksha would.

“I am— well. Thank you, Chongyun.” They are unfamiliar words, but Xiao must not fail in their sincerity.

A flush rises in Chongyun’s face, and he ducks away.

“We should return soon,” Aether says. “Venti already took Ganyu and Xingqiu back to the palace, but since I didn't want to risk waking you up then, I passed. And I figured we could carry Chongyun at least that far between the two of us.”

Xiao nods. “That will be no trouble.”

 

--

 

The hours that had passed during Xiao’s sleep mean that Chongyun and Aether are ravenous upon their return to the palace, and Xingqiu, after flinging himself upon Chongyun, heats what must be the leftovers of his earlier meal for them to eat.

Chongyun still lifts every steaming bite to his mouth slowly, as if in wonder, while Aether, despite accepting a portion large enough to suit his body, eats as though he must, even now. Whether it is a mark left from his starvation in the valley, his time in alone in Liyue, or some older instinct, Xiao does not know. All he can do is ensure Aether finishes everything, even when he finds no pleasure in the meal.

After eating, the humans leave to wash and dress for the evening, and, with no reason to join Barbatos on the roof or Ganyu in her room, Xiao follows.

It does not take long. Aether braids Xiao’s hair, then his own, while Chongyun and Xingqiu carefully tie their Visions and a matching pair of tassels at their waists. At Aether’s coaxing, Xiao does not call his usual clothing back, but instead takes a soft, deep-gray robe from their room to exchange for the one he had been given after their bath. It is… not unpleasant.

Barbatos flits back into the palace just as Aether gathers them in one of the more comfortable rooms for tea of his own making.

“Hey, did the old blockhead ever say when he would be back?”

Aether frowns at him. “I don’t think so… is there something wrong?”

Barbatos pauses, and that is enough for Xiao to tense. Archons do not hesitate this way, for if there is a matter that even they cannot foresee or defend against, most others would have no hope.

“The fog only grows thicker, and though the Ley does not darken, her roots often flicker,” he lilts, soft. “Whatever this is, it’s not corruption— at least, not yet— but I can’t help but think Morax has not found it so simple to take care of his friend.”

“…We’ll stay on alert, then,” Aether says, part question and part agreement, and Barbatos nods.

“All of you should be ready.”

Xiao combs across the far reaches of his senses, but as Barbatos had said, even beyond the safety of Chongyun’s aura, there is no more darkness than usual. What, then, makes this “Childe” so terrible that even the land itself must warn of him?

“What evils are we to watch for?” Xingqiu asks, and Barbatos rests his chin in one hand, finger tapping against his cheek.

“Even I couldn’t say exactly. But if Morax’s friend is involving adeptal Sigils, then I can really only assume he wants to stir the gods. I wonder if he understands what he’s getting into.”

Aether dispenses the teacups then, and a stillness falls as they turn their attentions to drinking. Chongyun, Xiao notices, stares into his cup for a long while before lifting it to his lips with his eyes pressed shut, as if breaking through some unseen barrier.

“Hey, Xiao?” Aether asks softly, and Xiao turns to meet his uncertain gaze. “While we have a moment, I wanted to ask— that is, since both you and I are recovered now, and you’ll be taking up your duties to Liyue again… I want to help you. I’m aware of the dangers, and I know you want to keep me safe, but my skill is enough to—"

“No,” Xiao hisses, feeling as though he has been struck by some great recoil, jolted from his earlier calm. Is this what Aether had been asking of the night before? “I have already given my answer. You cannot be on the battlefield of corruption with me.”

Aether’s lips thin. “I can fight, Xiao. I’m not so weak or naïve as to fall to the monsters you face.”

“You are strong,” Xiao says, because there is no doubt of it, but— “It is not enough. I will fight alone.”

Gaze falling away, Aether’s jaw stiffens before he catches Xiao’s wrist— and even in anger, his grip is not cruel— and pulls them both up and away to the door. Many eyes follow them out, piercing.

In the hall, Aether turns again, fingers falling away and leaving Xiao cold in their absence.

“Why won’t you let me help you?”

“I will not see you lost to the grudges of sealed gods.” I cannot watch you fall as the other yaksha had.

“And as I’ve said before, I don’t want to lose you to those things either! Please, there’s no need for you to fight alone.” Aether’s hands clench against his chest as he speaks.

“This battle has long been my duty, my purpose under Rex Lapis. I have sworn to be the final bearer of this burden, and if you have no contract with Lord Rex, you will not join me. Already you have cleansed and protected my Heart. That is enough.”

“No it’s not,” Eyes shining, Aether leans in toward him. “I’ve seen how much you suffer for your battles, and if I could be there to defend you, even from a single strike—”

Why does Aether not understand that even the strongest can and have fallen to the everlasting hatred of gods left to fester, why does he not see that Xiao would shatter without him?

“If you were to die, the others would mourn you.” Is all he can say.

“And if you were to die because there was no one to protect you, nothing would matter!” Tears track down Aether’s face, and his hurt burns between them. “Xiao, we’re one now, body and Heart and powers. What meaning is there in trying to keep me safe this way when your death means mine as well?”

“Then it would be my failure that brought about your end,” Xiao growls, words scraping like knives up his throat. “And I—” He reaches for Aether’s shoulder, to shake him and force him to see— only to flinch away when the bond carves into them at the contact, vivid and blinding under Xiao’s skin.

The pain of souls rent apart when they were always meant to be whole.

“—whoa, whoa,” an alarmed voice comes, and Xiao finds himself being pushed back by slender, unshakable hands. Barbatos.

“You need to relax, or you’re only going to hurt yourself and Aether more. Why are you fighting?”

Xiao slumps, fear and regret already tangling in his chest, and allows himself to be lead down the hall, away from where Chongyun and Xingqiu are suddenly huddled protectively around Aether. A gentle breeze stirs around him as they walk, an Archon’s breath leeching the terrible fire from his limbs.

“There we go,” Barbatos says once they turn the corner out of sight. “Why don’t you sit for a while and just take a few deeeep breaths. Yes, that’s it.”

Xiao hunches over, back to the wall, unable to lift his gaze higher than the Archon’s feet. This is as it should be, and yet somewhere in his time with Lord Rex, Xiao has learned to meet the eyes of gods as if he were an equal. Has learned to find the kindness in their depths.

The peace he had found with Aether that afternoon is again destroyed— or perhaps it had never truly returned at all, if Aether had not given up thoughts of accompanying Xiao to battle since the moment he had first suggested it. It is true what Aether had said, for either of their deaths means the same for the other, battlefield or not. But even if Aether does not die, he will suffer the same corrosion that Xiao does, the same misery and despair, and Xiao cannot, will not allow it.

“Feeling better now?” Barbatos asks, and Xiao dips his head. If nothing else, he is calmer.

The bond still stings and crackles unhappily between them.

Xiao should return, make his apology, beg for forgiveness. Explain to Aether why he must not join Xiao’s fight, in a way that will not hurt him as before. And yet… it is difficult even to drag himself back to his feet.

“If you don’t mind,” Barbatos starts, and then—

The ground rumbles, a quake that does not stop. That grows stronger and stronger, and—

The Ley line that flows beneath Lord Rex’s palace screams, the agony of an overwhelming corruption—

Lord Rex’s call sounds through the earth, through the air, a war cry that demands every sword to rise to battle, and then—

Darkness explodes at the far reaches of Xiao’s sight, rushing closer with every passing moment, spirits and shades and demons bounding free of their prison—

What is it? Which god— for there is no mistaking the strength of its hatred— has so suddenly been unleashed? It is not Saizhen or the Chi, for Xiao would have recognized their energies; and Azhdaha’s unsealing, from his place so deep in Nantianmen, would not have drawn such a desperation from Lord Rex. Which of the ancient gods remain, then? Which would so threaten Liyue as to force Lord Rex to call every ally to his side?

Xiao turns on his heel and darts back the way he had come, Barbatos abruptly solemn beside him. He finds Aether, Chongyun, and Xingqiu on the floor— and Ganyu darting in from the far end of the hall— as Aether soothes the others of Lord Rex’s divine, soul-piercing summons.

Memories return to Xiao, whispered history of a battle even before his time. There is a god that Lord Rex would deem a true danger, one that rests among the pillars of the sea, overshadowed by Liyue Harbor.

 

Osial.

Notes:

Aaaand that's the end of unofficial Arc 2! How are we all feeling?

Here's a Chongyun as an apology for the cliffhanger lol. I also tried giving it a layer of color, which you can check out on my tumblr if you're interested!

Chapter 36: To Guard and Keep

Notes:

I managed to get slightly ahead on chapter progress- then midterms happened. But hey, at least I'll be able to keep the upload schedule consistent!

TW: Some gore, blood, and war violence.
(Edit 3/5/22: Added some night-related imagery)

Their flight to the harbor is swift and silent, six of them together borne on Barbatos’s storm currents to protect the group as a whole.

As they draw nearer, the extent of Osial’s threat becomes ever more apparent— shades and demons press into the fringes of Chongyun’s pure aura even as they burn in its presence, plants wither under the force of corrupting power, screams echo across the fields, and towering waves crash against the cliffs and wharfs of the city. The world growing darker with storm and night the closer they draw.

Across the ocean and among the peaks of Guyun, Lord Rex’s furious dragon form is visible, rising in opposition to Osial’s many heads, the clash of their power so strong that it starts a throbbing in Xiao’s skull. Lord Rex will be giving them no commands, not until the Vortex is again struck down.

Barbatos drops them on the roof of one of the outer city’s houses, and the stream of mortal nightmares and terror below leaves Xiao dizzy. How long has the harbor been forbidden to him, first by Saizhen’s direct command, then by Lord Rex’s contract to protect the people of Liyue? But though Xiao is still a threat to these fragile lives, can still take hold of their dreams and tear them apart… perhaps he no longer fears losing himself in their midst as he once did. Perhaps the golden thread to his Heart, even frayed by lingering conflict as it is, will be enough to keep his weapon pointed true.

But even if it is not, Lord Rex has called him here, and Xiao must obey his order.

“I cannot interfere without Morax’s official invitation, even in this,” Barbatos murmurs to an outraged sound from Xingqiu. “But I can still help you a little from here.”

A soft breeze chimes at Xiao’s ear, and he can feel the same powers twining around the others as well, connecting them.

“We will need to divide our forces,” Ganyu takes over, her keen eye sweeping over the chaos before them, the trails of her armor fluttering in the wind. “I have the most power from above and afar, so I will remain on the rooftops to support you and clear the skies. Chongyun, your power is best suited for defense, so you will move with the people. Xingqiu, accompany him— your position as a Liang family leader may bring about some order. Xiao… I am truly sorry, but you and Aether should protect different parts of the city. Your strength is enough to fight alone, and Liyue is lacking in countermeasures against evil spirits as it is.”

Her strategy is sound, but…

“Let Aether stay with you. With anemo powers, he can help you defend from the air.”

Ganyu meets his eyes steadily, her brow creased. “…I heard a portion of your earlier argument, and I certainly understand your reluctance, but— you must believe in Aether’s strength, if only for this battle. We simply do not have the time or numbers to keep Aether safe in that way.”

“Xiao,” Aether says, but his gaze is not upon Xiao, but rather the faraway storm churning around Osial and Lord Rex. “I can handle myself. We should follow Ganyu’s instruction.”

He turns back to incline his head to Ganyu, and Chongyun and Xingqiu link hands.

Lord Rex’s fury washes over them, and yet it remains the kindest touch in a cascade of darkness and fear. A child screams from below, and Ganyu has drawn her bow and fired in the span of a breath. The attacking shade explodes, but without the proper cleansing power, it will only coalesce again. What choice does Xiao have?

“Aether… if you find yourself in danger…” He stumbles out, and after a moment’s empty gaze, Aether exhales and lifts a hand to trace his fingertips down Xiao’s cheek.

“I will call you.”

They scatter.

 

--

 

Aether takes his place on the streets between Feiyun Slope and Yujing Terrace, a shield for all those fleeing away from the sea to the safer mountain paths. Reaching within himself, he draws upon a power he has neither had nor needed for thousands of years now— pushing his energy out to blaze in his hair, his eyes, and beneath his skin, Aether makes himself glow.

There is a reason people of all worlds so worship the stars, after all— they are a beacon to the lost and a warning to the dark.

The Jade sword forms in his hand, light as a blessing, and Aether steps forward, the human current parting around him as he cuts down the first shade in a single stroke. Lifting pointer and middle fingers in the sign of cleansing Chongyun had rushed to teach him and Xingqiu on their way to this war, Aether whispers the accompanying words. “From whence you came.”

Shadows disperse, sinking harmlessly into the ground, and Aether draws the heavy robe that serves as his armor— for him, Chongyun and Xingqiu, there had been no other options— tighter around himself.

“Adeptus!” A voice cries out, and the hopeful call spills through the crowd, growing louder and louder with every new eye that catches on the beacon Aether has made of himself. And of course Aether is no adeptus, but he knows full well the way comforting deception can be stronger than bleak truth.

It doesn’t take long for him to thin the swarm of evil spirits, and soon he is able to set up his defense at the far end of the street, blocking any new monster from entering the sanctuary behind him. Distantly, he can sense Chongyun’s aura flaring from higher in Yujing Terrace, where he and Xingqiu, along with a purple-haired member of the Qixing and a handful of millelith, are organizing the evacuation.

A stirring overhead draws Aether’s attention to the lights of the Jade Chamber slowly floating out toward the ocean— Ningguang must be making her move too. Good.

A shower of ice bursts into the air just a few buildings down, and though Ganyu’s energies are not strong enough to stand out to Aether in the surrounding chaos, it is comforting just to know she is nearby. By the tug of the bond, Aether can tell Xiao is fighting near the wharf, where Osial’s hatred will run thickest. His heart aches. Even now, Xiao insists upon enduring the worst suffering alone. If he would just let Aether help—

The ground suddenly trembles beneath Aether’s feet, and as he hurries to regain his balance, a shriek echoes from somewhere deeper in the city, then another, and another, sounds turning choked and wet and desperate. A spiral of fire leaps from someone’s Vision, and then Aether is frozen, struck dumb by the dark, oozing mass that crests the stairs before him.

Eyes— so many eyes, bleached and bare, oily tears pouring from loose sockets, teeth that gnash on air, mouths that open to nothing, stubby hands and broken fingers that reach and reach—

—It grasps a woman’s body, her ribcage crushed and blood turned black by night dripping to the cobbles below— the eyes turn and twist, everywhere, everything, red on black on mocking gold— it looms— an unseen mouth bites down with a sickening crunch— an agonized sob rises from the street, a young boy clings to a pale, limp hand—

—A girl dressed in funeral black staggers back under the monstrous approach, pyro scorching the ground on which they both stand—

—And Aether lunges forward to absorb the demon’s— for what else could it be?— next swipe, the air knocked from his lungs as he is shunted back at the force of it. The girl behind him gasps out something, maybe thanks, but Aether has no time to look.

More hands grasp for him, faster than they have any right to be, and Aether struggles to defend against them all, his sword sinking and sticking in the monster’s black ooze. Droplets of it splatter with every movement, and Aether hisses when they burn small pits into his exposed hands and face. Hastily, he withdraws the power he’d been allowing to shine through his skin and turns it toward healing instead. The shades had been nothing like this, even at their worst. No wonder Xiao had been so desperate to keep Aether away from this battlefield.

He aims for the eyes and mouths, places that make the demon shudder and don’t slow his sword. Even with the perfect strikes, though, corruption still flecks over his skin, and soon the open wounds are enough to leave Aether aching with every movement.

The demon is weakening, but far too slowly, and Aether doesn’t have the powers of exorcism needed to truly banish it anyway. He’ll need to end this soon and call for Chongyun or Xiao.

Summoning his full power, he drives the force of a hurricane at the demon’s mass, and the girl at his side infusing his anemo with a stream of fire— but though the demon screams, a terrible grating sound that pours from every one of its mouths and sets Aether’s ears to ringing, it only slips back a few steps, burning ooze showering the street and buildings and people behind.

He and the girl stop in the same motion, but the damage has been done.

“Run!” Aether yells to the huddled crowd, and miraculously, most of them do as Aether again launches himself at the demon to distract it.

It is then that a blossom of ice bursts across the demon's back— if such a distinction can even be made when the eyes are on every side— and a barrage of icicles rain from the rooftops, sinking deep wherever they strike the demon’s body. One of the largest eyes is pierced with a squelch, and the demon falls forward, howling. Ganyu’s power truly is formidable.

If they can’t push it back, then maybe Aether can tear the monster apart with a more concentrated storm. Closing his eyes, he focuses on the power in his Heart, between his hands, imagines the cutting force of Xiao’s blade that could destroy a demon with ease.

He opens his eyes. The girl and Ganyu cry out, and—

Oh. He’d been careless.

The demon shrinks into itself before exploding, indiscriminate, over them all.

 

It hurts. Hurts, like poison, like fire, like falling without wings; and yet none of it is worse than the terror that flares in Xiao’s Heart with Aether’s echoing pain.

Hands grasp at his arms, and— yes, he’d been in front of the girl when the demon had died. Good. At least she is safe.

“Shoot it again!” he hears her scream, and ice crackles over and over as a wall of flame rises around him.

“Aether!” A new voice cries— Chongyun. His cooling presence dips in close, and Aether struggles to breathe him in.

“No, no, no—”

“If you can move him somewhere safe, boyo—”

“No. This must be exorcised first.”

A curl of fresh darkness catches at Aether’s blurred senses. Had— had the demon not died, even after everything? The monster gargles hungrily.

“Oh,” Chongyun murmurs, and then he rises, footsteps passing Aether to face the evil reborn. “So, you are horror Xiao warned us of.”

“Be careful!” Ganyu calls from afar.

“Lady Ganyu and Aether and Hu Tao broke you down for me,” Chongyun says. “I won’t waste their efforts.”

A roar and crash, as the demon strikes and Chongyun dodges.

“Heart be pure, evil be erased.”

A new flicker of power draws near, cryo as placid and perfect as a frozen lake.

“Mind be purged,” Chongyun chants, and another voice joins his, strong and clear. “World be saved!”

The demon dies, truly dies, in a sea of ice and power, and Aether can’t help a groan as ooze evaporates from his skin and the chill of the exorcism bites into him instead. He has no time to linger on it, though. With the main threat gone, Aether can finally focus enough to grasp Xiao’s wretched fear and quiet it as much as their frayed bond will allow. I’m alive, Xiao. Alive, alive, alive.

“It is done,” the new voice says, and then Chongyun is back by Aether’s side.

“Aether— oh, Archons, please let him be okay.”

A rustle is all the warning Aether gets before heavy fabric is draped over his exposed, injured side— likely Chongyun’s outer robe. Dragging in a breath, Aether prises his own eyes open, forces his fingers to stretch and meet Chongyun’s hand.

Chongyun’s cry of relief is wordless, and he comes to gently lift Aether from the girl’s— Hu Tao’s?— arms.

“Did I hear you say Aether?” Hu Tao asks, and clothing rustles as she climbs to her feet.

“…Do you know him?” Chongyun counters warily.

“Know of him, more like. Zhongli alllways carried on about an old friend at a teahouse he liked, and after some poking around, I learned the guy was an adeptus or something. Never thought I’d actually get to see him though, secretive as he was.”

“Not an… adeptus,” Aether croaks, and all eyes turn toward him. “Nice to… meet you Miss… Seventy-seventh Director.”

“Oya? You know me too? I’m flattered,” Hu Tao says at the same time Chongyun frantically whispers, “You shouldn’t be talking, Aether! Just rest until I can bring you to a healer.”

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but sadly, death waits for no one.” Hu Tao chirps. “I’ll need to lay the others who were hit by that… thing’s attack to rest, then it’s back into the city to look for stragglers.”

“…Archons be with you,” Chongyun says with a long look after her. Then he turns away, carrying Aether back to Yujing Terrace and the safe place he had created.

The streets are empty now, the people all escaped or dead or gone from the city by other routes— and with most of the nearby shades and spirits destroyed as well, it is calm enough for Aether to sense Ganyu leaping away over the rooftops and the new, almost-adeptal presence walking at Chongyun’s side.

The woman’s power is strange, tightly restrained and edged with the suggestions of shadow. But though it is far less overwhelming, it carries the same note of purity as Chongyun’s aura.

Chongyun had never mentioned any relatives existing outside the Liu clan before— but surely it’s impossible that every member of the family had fit perfectly into their exorcist mold.

A ripple passes over Aether’s skin as they move through a barrier of some sort, one held up by a ring of talismans infused with Chongyun’s power. As Chongyun lays Aether down on a patch of grass, a soft jingling and small footsteps approach them.

“Qiqi!” Chongyun gasps. “You saw the demon attack, right? Please, Aether needs healing.”

“Qiqi help,” A monotone voice says, and shock forces Aether’s eyelids open, because the girl— no, the jiangshi— reeks of Xiao’s power.

The touch of cryo, cold as death, flutters over Aether’s skin, and he grits his teeth as the flesh of his arm and back pulls and twists and knits itself back together. Fortunately, though the wounds were large, none had burned so deep as to show bone, and the healing doesn’t take long. Small hands pat his cheek, and Aether stares up into the girl’s dull, heavy-lidded eyes.

Who is this? And why is Xiao’s power as closely twined with her aura as it is with Aether’s? He’ll have to ask Xiao about it later. Maybe. If Xiao will listen to him.

“Thank you,” he rasps, and Qiqi nods.

“Patient need rest,” she recites. “Cannot touch very hot or very cold. Drink water.”

“I’ll… do my best.” Aether allows his gaze to drift over the weary, empty-handed crowd slowly making their way higher into the mountains to make room for the last of those seeking refuge in Chongyun’s sanctuary. There will be time for rest and water later.

“Qiqi, find Baizhu.” The girl trots away on her own command, and Chongyun hastily sweeps in to take her place.

“Aether, are you alright now? You were bleeding so much…”

“Ah… I’ll get there,” Aether murmurs, carefully pushing himself up on his hands, and wincing at the flex of rewoven muscle under still-tender skin. He shudders to think what would’ve happened if the wounds had been deeper. Still, despite that bit of good fortune, even Qiqi’s skill can only do so much without proper resonance with Aether.

He’ll need Xiao to truly complete the healing… though whether it would take with the meaningless rift of “protection” Xiao has dug between them, Aether doesn’t know.

“It seems most of the civilians have safely made it to one of the three evacuation areas,” a clipped voice informs them, and Aether twists around to see the purple-haired woman from the Qixing. What had Ningguang said her name was… Keqing?

“The millelith and Lady Yanfei and I will take over protections from here.” Her fist meets her palm as she bows her head to Chongyun, then Aether, then the woman who might just be Chongyun’s family. “Thank you for your service. Liyue owes you all a great debt, and still I must ask you to do more.”

“Oh!— No, we don’t— please don’t worry, Lady Keqing. This is… what I have been training for,” Chongyun stammers out, waving his hands before him.

Slowly, Aether picks his way to his feet, testing his balance and securing what he can of his corroded, bloodstained clothes beneath Chongyun’s robe. With a little more rest, he should be able to return to the battlefield, albeit more cautiously than before.

A soft wind flutters at his ear, and he startles with Chongyun as Venti’s voice drifts in.

”Those guardian adepti from Jueyun Karst have finished the barrier around the harbor. Whatever’s in the city now is all you have left to deal with."

A barrier? Aether casts a quick glance out toward the ocean, but all he can see are the far away flashes of light and refractions of water as Zhongli drives Osial back into the deep. He doesn’t have much reason to doubt Venti’s information, though.

“Lady Keqing,” Aether says, drawing on Liyuean etiquette from ages past. “We defer to your judgement for the defense of Liyue Harbor. No more demons should be entering the harbor, so is there anywhere you would like us to go?”

Keqing’s eyes widen a little, but she recovers quickly. “Your name is Aether, am I right? Ningguang has told me some of your history with Liyue.” She places a hand over her chest. “Well met, guardian. I thank you again for all you’ve done for us.”

Aether inclines his head in return. What must Ningguang have told her, for her to face him so reverently?

“For now, it would be best to reinforce the other evacuation sectors, as this one is likely the safest of the three,” Keqing mutters, eyes flitting back and forth over some unseen strategy. “The Liu exorcists are defending the south entrance… but then, I hear the Vigilant Yaksha is fighting near the north bridge, so perhaps more support for the others would be… hmm, yes.”

She looks up. “Please join the exorcists at the south entrance in Chihu Rock, and if they are secure, reenter the city to search for any who might have been left behind. I will send up an electro signal if anything goes amiss here.”

“Understood.” Aether nods. “Before we leave, is Xingqiu…?”

“I’m here, my liege!” Xingqiu calls, and Aether turns to see him sprinting down the path, away from a cluster of his family members who are all reaching rather beseechingly after him.

“They still don’t want you to help?” Chongyun asks sadly.

“They… their intentions are honorable, but it remains my duty to protect Liyue Harbor when I am one of the few with the power to do so. I am fortunate that my father was directed to the north bridge, else they really might have been able to stop me.” He sighs. “I will accompany you all to the south entrance, if you will have me.”

“Of course,” Aether says. It will be a somewhat delicate balance of making the best use of Xingqiu’s skills while also keeping him safe from the corruption he has little defense against, but it’s far from impossible.

Finally, he glances as the silent, white-haired woman who has been standing with them this entire time. “Will you also be joining us, Lady…?”

“I am Shenhe,” she says in a stiff, but not necessarily unfriendly tone. “Cloud Retainer brought me along to defend Liyue Harbor. Therefore, if you continue your battle, I will follow.”

So, she’s a disciple of Cloud Retainer. That explains the incredible skill in exorcisms. “Well, your help would certainly be welcome right now.”

Shenhe nods, and, without wasting another moment, bounds down the street and back out of the barrier. Shaking the lingering pain from his skin, Aether makes to follow her, only to pause when he hears Chongyun stumble.

“Wait… Shenhe? But she— they said she died years ago,” Chongyun mutters. “I never thought anyone else from my family— no. I need to ask her.”

And launching past Aether, Chongyun follows in Shenhe’s steps with a cry of “Wait!”

Aether catches Xingqiu’s eye, but he seems equally lost. Oh well. They’ll probably figure it out soon enough.

 

--

 

None of them can catch up to Shenhe until she at last slows over the closely packed rooftops near the south entrance. Or rather, Aether might have been able to reach her sooner, but it would’ve meant leaving Xingqiu behind, and that’s really no choice at all.

So he comes to stop beside a hunched over, gasping Chongyun, eyes Shenhe’s abruptly stiff back— and with a growing sense of foreboding, moves to join her at the edge of the roof.

It takes a moment for Aether to understand what he’s seeing. Exorcists are strewn about the plaza below, a sea of white and silver and flickering lanterns shining upon red, red, red, while civilians desperately crush against the chokepoint of the bridge out of the city. Shades and evil spirits pursue them all indiscriminately, a haunting chorus of screams and wails rising to the air. Fresh terror rings out as one shade tears its way out of a talisman barrier and promptly crushes the nearest exorcist’s head into the ground. The man does not get up.

Most of the weaker evil spirits are beginning to writhe and smoke, burned by Chongyun’s aura, but the shades seem undeterred by pain, not with such easy prey laid out before them. The iron tang of blood sinks into Aether’s nose, and he resists the urge to retch. They have work to do.

“Xingqiu, stay with Chongyun or Shenhe. I’ll partner with the other. We secure the bridge first, then deal with the exorcists,” Aether rattles off. He glances up at Shenhe, but she doesn’t seem inclined to fight him about the orders. And as for the other two… Chongyun only stares out at the struggling fragments of his clan with an empty gaze, and Xingqiu is making no effort to hide the curl of his lip.

Drawing his sword, Aether breathes in deep— and plunges. The shade below him falls to his blade as easily as cutting through water, and Aether is grateful for it when his still-healing skin gives a warning twinge at the exertion. He spins around, ready to exorcise it permanently— but Shenhe is already there, wiping away the shadows with a flick of her hand.

Chongyun and Xingqiu had gone together, then. As expected.

Aether allows his mind to empty out into meditative purpose as he rouses long-unused instincts of battle. Training with Xiao and Chongyun, though helpful, is nothing compared to a true fight, and it has been a long, long time since Aether has needed to ignore the squelch of a corpse beneath his feet or the breathless nothing that comes after a cry abruptly silenced.

He keeps close to Shenhe’s side, relying on her strength and swift exorcisms to forge a path ahead while he guards her back, darting out only to kill those monsters he catches dragging a person away from the rest of the crowd. To their left, Chongyun and Xingqiu fight with equal determination, and the four of them close in on the bridge, nearer and nearer until they meet the wooden posts that frame each side.

In the space of a blink, Chongyun has formed a talisman and swept it out to the side, over the panicked masses, and Aether grits his teeth through the shrieks of darkness purged from among them.

“The people are safe!” Chongyun yells, and Shenhe promptly strides to the front and center, facing the approaching shades with the carelessness of absolute certainty.

“Guard me.”

And Aether joins Chongyun and Xingqiu before her as she begins to weave a barrier along the curve of the city wall, cutting the darkness off from those still fleeing down the road outside.

“Sanctuary of the lost, adoration of the illuminated one, host of the moon and path of the sun,” Shenhe chants, and Aether shivers as her power curls over his skin.

“Adeptus!” Someone in the crowd cries, and just as in Feiyun Slope, the call is taken up with a frenzied sort of hope, no matter that there are still no true adepti here. The exorcists, too, are at last beginning to take notice of the new warriors in their midst, some even foolishly turning from their own battles to gawk.

But Aether has no time to save those who would step onto the field of life or death without training or even resolve. He focuses instead on the shrieking, gibbering swarms at the end of his blade, watches as his hands and arms stain darker and darker with remnant shadows, and strains against the burden he can feel slowly growing on his borrowed Heart— surely the price he and Xiao are paying to disperse the hatred of the gods.

“It is done,” Shenhe says, and as she spreads her hands, the barrier rises, flawless and shining behind her. “I will protect this place. Go.”

So they do.

There is a special sort of agony that comes every time Aether steps between shade and exorcist, every time he blocks dripping claws from reaching white robes or draws upon Chongyun’s ambient strength to purge miasma from around huddles of people who had tried to kill him for that very power. And yet, these lives are not Aether’s to claim, for he is neither arbiter nor executioner in this city.

In the corner or his eye, Aether can see Xingqiu struggling with much the same, as he clings to Chongyun’s side like an extension of his arm and strikes only where Chongyun points him. Still, perhaps his sense of justice is too strong to abandon the exorcists completely, because he is never halfhearted when he does choose to protect.

Between Chongyun’s aura, Shenhe’s blinding defenses, and their blades all turned against the darkness, the shades quickly thin out, enough that even the exorcists are able to gather themselves together, dragging their fallen and injured back toward the safety of the bridge. And finally, Aether begins to notice the way new monsters are coming down the street oddly worn and singed, often to the point that he can exorcise them without even striking first. No doubt this is the reason the exorcists had been able to hold out for as long as they had.

As they push further in, the source becomes clear— bright flares of pryo light up the storm-darkened city, and when Aether rounds the corner of a building, it’s impossible to miss the two girls standing back-to-back in the street, their weapons braced before them.

One of them he even recognizes. Now, what was her name…

“Xiangling?” Aether calls, and she flings a dissipating spirit into the air with the point of her spear before turning to him.

With a gasp, she lifts a hand to scrub trickles of blood away from her forehead and eyes. “Mister Aether?! And Chongyun and Xingqiu?”

“You know my name?” Aether asks before lunging past her to cut down a shade covered in needle-thin spikes.

“Oh! I, uh, learned it from some of my other customers. You’re really kinda famous around here, you know.” She offers him a sheepish laugh.

“This the guy you were talking about, Xiangling?” The girl next to her drawls. She makes what might’ve been an attempt at hefting her claymore up, before appearing to reconsider and simply dropping the weapon to disperse it instead.

Beside her, Chongyun purges the final shade with a practiced chant, and the street falls mostly silent, with only the howling of the wind and distant groans and sobs of the people behind them to break it.

“Yeah!” Xiangling says as she plops down on the rim of a nearby overturned table. Her spear disperses into the air, but not before Aether can see the sludge dripping from the blade and the crimson staining the shaft’s grip. “Aether, this is Xinyan. She does gigs for us at the restaurant sometimes. Maybe you’ve seen her?”

“Sadly not, but it’s nice to meet you, Xinyan.” Aether bows. “Though this is really an awful place for it.”

“Well, I don’t mind, ‘cause it means you were here to give us a hand.” Xinyan blows out a worn breath and collapses straight down onto the cobbles below. “Those damn things just wouldn’t die!”

“Mm, well, shadows of the gods and all.” Aether agrees, and she returns an incredulous blink. “Why are you two so far out here? There were some exorcists trying to hold back the horde just a little farther down.”

Xiangling frowns as she begins to cut into her sleeves and tear them into long strips of bandage. “We did try to help them once we figured out what was going on, but they said they had it handled and chased us off. So we came down here, and I sent Guoba with Miss Yun Jin to help evacuate a few more people.”

“…They dared to send you away?” Xingqiu asks, and Xiangling nods.

“I couldn’t believe it either. Oh, but Chongyun, are you alright? I know that’s your family—”

“They’re not my family anymore,” Chongyun interrupts quietly. “I live with Aether now, and… some others.”

“O-oh.” Xiangling is keen enough to sense Chongyun’s reluctance, it seems, and though she shares a look with Xinyan, she doesn’t hesitate to change the subject. “What do we need to do next? Has the rest of the city been cleared out?”

“Feiyun Slope is clear, and Xi—the Vigilant Yaksha is guarding the north bridge, so it’s likely safe there as well…” A breeze tickles at Aether’s ear, and he pauses to listen.

“There are a few pests still scattered about, but all the people of the harbor left alive are now within safety,” Venti whispers. “It looks like old Morax is finishing up his fight too.”

“Everything is cleared out,” Aether summarizes. “Why don’t you rejoin everyone at the south entrance? I think we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“Sure thing,” Xinyan says, and both girls hop to their feet.

“I need to ask Lady Shenhe something as well,” Chongyun adds, already turning back toward the bridge.

Aether falls into step behind their little group and finds himself rubbing at his sternum as he walks. Xiao has finished his own killing, it seems, but the karmic debt they’d built up together hasn’t lessened at all. More and more, Aether understands why Xiao had not wanted him on the field, but his determination to help protect Xiao from these very things grows in equal measure.

He’ll cleanse their Heart once he’s had a minute to rest… and maybe he and Xiao will even be able to reconcile before then, too.

Notes:

so. many. fight scenes. T_T
<3

Chapter 37: Shatter

Notes:

Look, I know what I said last chapter, but my midterms are OVER and I got a bunch of writing done in celebration, sooo.... here's a bonus chapter so you all can join in lol. Regular 2 week updates will resume after this. And thank you to the amazing Heart_of_a_Dragon for basically being on-call for me during my nonsense brainstorming and editing <3

TW: References to past child abuse, some blood and violence

“You should sit down, Aether,” Chongyun frets as they all settle a short distance away from the exorcists back at the bridge. “I know you took more injuries in that battle, and we don’t even have a healer this time.”

With a sigh, Aether shuffles over to a rise in the path and does as Chongyun says, laying a hand over the seeping gash on his shoulder. At least they won’t be able to see his bruised torso and legs.

“I’m going to go help out with the crowd,” Xiangling calls. “Xinyan and I are recognizable at least, so we might be able to keep them organized while the harbor’s still in danger.”

“A most excellent idea,” Xingqiu says, and Aether nods with him.

“Thanks, Xiangling.”

“No problem! It’s the least we can do for both you and our city.” Xiangling trots off toward the barrier-white glow of the bridge with only the faintest limp in her step, and Xinyan gives them a little salute before running after her.

Aether watches as they pass Shenhe and exchange a few inaudible words, Xiangling gesturing energetically back toward Aether and the rest of the group.

“Not going to help them, Xingqiu?” Aether asks curiously.

“…Not this time. As long as the Liu clan is still near, I intend to stay with Chongyun.”

Chongyun’s head shoots up to look at him, and Xingqiu flushes so deeply it can be seen even in the dark.

Aether doesn’t bother to stop the quiet laugh that bubbles up. Even on a death-strewn battlefield like this, there is still light. “You take good care of him, don’t you?”

Xingqiu clears his throat. “I try my best.”

They all glance up as heels come clicking over stone, and Shenhe gracefully descends to join them on the ground. “The people are safe, and my barrier will hold through the next sun, should it be needed,” she says, voice strangely gentled now that the fight is no longer raging on around them. “What is our next destination?”

“…I’m told that this was the last real battle,” Aether says. “So if you’d prefer not to stay and guard this place, I’m sure you could return to Cloud Retainer without much trouble.”

“Hmm.” Face unmoved, Shenhe glances over at the exorcists clustered nearby. “They are incompetent and cowardly. Perhaps I will stay.”

Such harsh words delivered in such a neutral tone. But then, there might be more to it than a simple disapproval of fellow warriors…

“Um— Lady Shenhe?” Chongyun speaks up, hands curled awkwardly by his sides. “Would you by any chance know a— a Liu Ruoxin?”

Shenhe’s gaze snaps toward him, and Chongyun flinches.

“That was once my elder brother.” She leans in, closer, closer. “Ah. You are his child. But you do not fight for them?”

“I couldn’t— my family decided they no longer wanted me, so they… they left me—”

“To die.” Shenhe’s voice is cold as a midnight waste and just as deadly. “I understand.”

“So they did do the same to you,” Chongyun says waveringly. “We were all told you had been lost on a hunt.”

“It was a hunt. But if Cloud Retainer had not found me, perhaps it would have been my last.” Slowly, Shenhe reaches out to grasp Chongyun’s jaw, turns his face this way and that. “You are not like them. Nor are you like me.”

“Rex Lapis had to take me in because I was a danger to the harbor,” Chongyun murmurs, thumb rubbing absently over the gold sigil on his wrist. “But… I think I’m safe with him, now.”

“…Good.” Shenhe says after a moment.

They both fall to silence, the peace of two souls meeting upon the same lonely, shadowed path, and though Aether wants to know more, he dares not interrupt.

“Hail, adepti,” A nervous voice calls, and Aether looks up to find one of the exorcists approaching them, a man in his middle years with a broken sword in his belt and dark stains splashed liberally over the sides of his robe. “On behalf of the Liu clan, I wish to express our thanks for your cooperation in this battle—”

“There was no cooperation” Shenhe says, barely even looking at the man. “You were defended by the girls who wielded fire, then saved from your own helplessness when we arrived. I would kill you for your failure first and your disrespect second, if Cloud Retainer had not commanded otherwise.”

Aether had also been bristling at the man’s arrogant thanks, but with Shenhe here, perhaps he doesn’t need to do anything at all.

“You should— should probably go back to the others, Yanlin,” Chongyun mutters. “Lady Shenhe isn’t happy.”

“Shenhe…” The man, apparently Yanlin, says slowly. “No, surely— Lord Haoran’s Shenhe?”

“That man has never been my father,” Shenhe says sharply. “Now leave.”

“Impossible,” Yanlin whispers. “You were dead, and Chongyun— how did you both—”

“Sir,” Xingqiu interrupts coolly. “While I would have no qualms about simply leaving you to your fate, chivalry demands I point you back to your clan before you lose your life.”

To neatly illustrate his point, Shenhe’s fingers flex over the invisible grip of a spear, but—

“And what right do you have to say that to me, Liang boy?” Yanlin says indignantly, and Aether nearly gapes. Does this man truly have no self-preservation at all?

“What seems to be the trouble, Yanlin?” Another man calls as he approaches from behind, lantern in hand. This one is perhaps a handful of years older than the first, with genial expression on his face and a dozen charms and strings of beads jangling around his neck.

Chongyun inhales, sharp and muffled, and Aether instinctively shuffles closer to him.

“Ah, Master Wu. I was just about to leave, but perhaps you’ll better be able to remind them all where they stand with us.”

The second man turns, gaze flicking over them all. “Well, if it isn’t dear Shenhe and little Chongyun.” And Xingqiu actually hisses as the man waves Yanlin off. “I never thought I’d see you two again.”

Carefully, Aether stands, testing the limits of his stiff, aching body. Whether he’ll have to stop Shenhe and Xingqiu or drive off this man, he doesn’t yet know, but better to be ready either way.

“Leave,” Shenhe says again, turning away.

“Now, don’t be like that. Remember me? I worked so hard on your training despite your constant belligerence, all on your brother’s request. A shame we had to get rid of you in the end, really, but surely you can’t blame Lord Haoran for giving up after your mother died and left him to manage you alone. I can see you’ve done well enough for yourself in the art of exorcism, though. Don’t you want to thank me?”

Admirably, Shenhe continues to ignore him.

“And Chongyun! They really did like to give me all the problem cases, didn’t they. It appears you’ve toughened up at last, if you’re out here on the battlefield. Did that little test we gave you finally convince you to try harder?”

“Li-little test?” Chongyun says faintly. “That was— Master Wu, you tried to kill me!”

“Now, now, that’s a terribly extreme exaggeration for an exorcist’s rite of passage, don’t you think? I know I was hard on you during training, but with the way you were, I had to be. And look how well things have turned out!” Wu spreads his hands, light and shadow from the lantern playing grotesquely over his face.

Chongyun trembles, and Aether has heard more than enough.

“I think you forfeited all potential connections to these two long ago, sir,” he says, stepping forward to block Chongyun from the man’s view. “I suggest you return to your family now. It seems like they’ll need all the assistance they can get.”

Wu stares at him. “And who are you, boy, to end up tangled with both of my students?”

“Me?” Aether breathes in slow and pulls on Xiao’s heart, not entirely certain of what he’s doing, but still begging their unstable bond for just a little more— and currents of anemo respond to his desperate call, Xiao offering his strength, his body up to Aether’s hands. “You and your friend dismissed Shenhe when you realized she was no adeptus, but it seems you’ve failed to consider there might still be one at her side.”

And ethereal horns and fangs burn to life over his face, his eyes straining as a wash of color and power pours from the bond to fill them, but it is worth it all for the way the man’s leering smile abruptly vanishes.

“Now,” Aether says, hand shooting out to dig his borrowed claws deep into Wu’s shoulder. “Leave.”

And with a few frantic, tripping steps, the man does, glancing back over his shoulder the entire way.

Aether drops Xiao’s power the moment they are well and truly alone again, and would’ve collapsed straight to the ground if it weren’t for Xingqiu’s arms darting around him. He groans. “Thank you.”

“What did you do?” Chongyun breathes, and for the moment at least, it seems his fear has been overtaken by awe.

“I… asked Xiao for a bit of help,” Aether sighs. “I’m glad it worked.” When he glances around, he finds Shenhe staring at him with a neutral sort of interest.

“You are bonded to an adeptus, then? Cloud Retainer had spoken at length of a bond recently formed for the last Yaksha.”

“Ah, yes, that would be me.”

Xiao is clawing insistently at the bond now, a jagged feeling that Aether still can’t properly soothe through the damage they’d inflicted on it. Still, he tries his best to ease Xiao’s worry, if only with continuing proof that he is alive.

“I must thank you, my liege,” Xingqiu says quietly. “I think I might have broken my own oath of chivalry just to kill that man if he had gone on any longer.”

“Oh, I understand. But if nothing else, thousands of years of life teaches you a little patience.” Aether leans back against a short stone post, his body screaming ever-louder for some rest. “Chongyun, how are you feeling?”

“…I’m fine,” Chongyun says, but he doesn’t meet Aether’s gaze. “It’s just— I assumed he wouldn’t bother coming to find me.”

Aether allows his eyes to fall shut for a moment, a fleeting barrier against the cruelties of the world, before opening them once more and beckoning to Chongyun.

“Is this alright?” he asks when Chongyun shuffles within reach, and Chongyun doesn’t respond so much as fall straight into Aether’s open arms.

Without prompting, both Xingqiu and Shenhe step forward to place themselves between Chongyun and the exorcists at the far end of the plaza. A human wall against prying eyes.

“Oh, Chongyun, I’m so sorry,” Aether murmurs, carefully stroking through Chongyun’s hair even as a wet patch grows where Chongyun’s face is pressed into his shoulder. “You’re safe now, I promise. We can even make sure that man never has the chance to touch you again, if you really want. I’m sure Lady Ningguang would turn a blind eye for me.”

Chongyun makes a choking sound that could perhaps be claimed as a laugh. “Please don’t use your favors from the Tianquan just to kill Master Wu.”

“I could take care of it as well,” Xingqiu says serenely. “Who would suspect the illustrious second son of the Liang family?”

“No, I will do it,” Shenhe says, her gaze fixed, hawk-like, upon the distant Wu. “Your people would not dare to enter Jueyun Karst to chase after me.”

“No, no,” Chongyun gasps, but the trembling of his shoulders no longer seems to be from sobs.

“Should we see if Xiangling and Xinyan need help, then?” Aether suggests as Xingqiu gathers Chongyun up and out of his lap. “It doesn’t seem like there’s any fighting left for us to do.”

“You will be resting, my liege,” Xingqiu says. “But if Chongyun and I can clean off a little of this blood and dirt, perhaps we will be able to assist them with the public.”

Aether opens his mouth to argue that he should at least go with them to help distribute what few supplies had been carried out of the city, but then—

A jolt passes through him as Xiao’s alarm echoes down the bond, followed a moment later by a tug at his sternum, one that carries the unmistakable weight of Zhongli’s power.

“Aether?” Chongyun asks, wide-eyed, and Aether drops the hand he’d unconsciously placed against his chest.

“Rex Lapis is calling us… or me and Xiao, at least. Did any of you feel that?”

A general shaking of heads.

It’s impossible to see the ocean from this part of the city, but Aether looks anyway. Is Osial defeated? The call hadn’t been especially urgent, but neither has Aether felt the pulse of energy he would’ve expected from an ancient god being sealed. Something else must have happened.

“I guess I’ll be going, then.”

“But Aether…” Chongyun starts, hand half-extended. “You’re still hurt, and with the transformation you did…”

It will be putting a strain on his body, but he isn’t that weak yet. “As long as I’m careful, it will be fine. Besides, I’m not about to ignore a summons from the Geo Archon.”

Standing, Aether brushes off the front of his robes and rolls his shoulders. The winds stir at his request, slow with his weariness, then abruptly strengthen as a whisper curls around his ear.

”Let me help you out.”

And with a final wave to the others, Aether gives himself over to Venti’s breezes, taking off from the harbor and soaring for the ocean beyond.

 

-*-

 

The summons come as Xiao kneels among the shadows and wreckage of his battle, alone despite the crowd of fearful mortals that surely watch him from the dark hills and paths outside the city. Even now, he strains towards Aether, toward the place he cannot go, their bond spilling misery through the cracks and bringing Xiao fresh terror every time Aether draws upon it in pain or desperation.

His only solace is the continued song of Aether’s life, and Barbatos’s murmur in his ear, assuring him that Aether remains safe with the others.

Heart groaning under the weight of karma it no longer remembers how to bear, Xiao drags himself to his feet and turns his face toward Guyun. The sea has calmed, and Lord Rex’s shining form towers decisively above the stone crags and Osial’s fallen heads— yet he is not moving to once again seal his enemy beneath the waves.

Xiao breathes in shadow, breathes out light, and warps himself to the ichor-stained sands of the islands where Lord Rex stands.

“Xiao,” Lord Rex greets, and beyond the dripping gashes in his scales, he sounds… worn. Exhausted, in a way Xiao has never heard before.

“I am yours to command, my Lord,” Xiao says quietly, bending to one knee and bracing himself under the oppressive weight of howling darkness and Osial’s presence.

From his place pinned beneath Lord Rex’s enormous claw, Osial snarls with a fury that digs into Xiao’s bones, only for Lord Rex to slam his heads against the ground to force him back to silence.

A faint tug in the bond makes Xiao look up, and he knows what he will see even before Aether comes fluttering down from the sky.

“You called, Rex Lapis?”

“Thank you for coming, Aether,” Lord Rex sighs.

Aether lands with a stirring of sand, clothes and hair whipping around him, and Xiao cannot tear his gaze away from the blood that stains his— no, Chongyun’s— robe. Why had Aether changed his clothes? If it was an injury he is covering, surely his movements would speak of the pain, even if Xiao can no longer rely on their bond to feel him.

Once on the ground, Aether turns to face Osial fully, and the little Xiao can see of his gaze is threaded through with melancholy. A pity that nevertheless does not hesitate to deliver judgement.

“How may I be of service?” Aether asks Lord Rex, his hands folded before him and head bowed respectfully.

It is strange to see Aether offering such formality to anyone— but of course, they stand before Osial, a foe, and Xiao realizes that he, too, is performing for Lord Rex’s appearance of a ruling Archon. He rises, intending to search for any wounds Aether might have suffered and join his front of strength, but Xiao is able to meet the gold of Aether’s eyes for only a moment before they unmistakably flick back Lord Rex.

Xiao’s breath catches in his throat at what is surely a dismissal, but he dares not allow himself to feel any further.

“Osial must be sealed,” Lord Rex says. “However, a great deal of power will be released in doing so, and that…” He shifts aside to reveal a body curled beneath the hollow of his claw, a body with bloodstains and gray clothes, a shattered mask and dull copper hair. Childe.

Aether gasps, twitching forward as if thinking to run to the man. “So that’s where he went…”

The ground around Childe is scattered with Sigils of Permission, and now that he is focused, Xiao can sense their powers lingering in Childe’s body alongside the rampant corruption. The mortal must have collapsed under the weight of those opposing divinities, the darkness Xiao had sensed within him worn down by pure Ley energies.

“Please take Childe back to the safety of the harbor, and keep watch over him until I am finished with this task. I have no wish to harm him, but…” Lord Rex gazes over stormy waters toward the city. “He has much to answer for.”

“Of course,” Aether murmurs as he steps into Lord Rex’s space.

The air crackles.

Lord Rex stills.

And in a rising spiral of ice, a woman, an Archon appears, freezing the ocean solid with her every step toward them.

“Tsaritsa,” Lord Rex growls. “Why have you come here?”

The Cryo Archon stares up at him, a furred hood shrouding her expression. “So, you do still have the power to rule. What a terrible waste.”

Xiao hisses, but as long as Lord Rex is here, it is not his place to fight her.

“My people have no need of an iron fist over them to bring peace and order to the land. Now, I will only ask one more time— why are you here?”

“I may have misjudged my claim over nations whose gods have abandoned their places on the throne, but I still have rule over my own. Thus, I have come to fetch what is mine,” Tsaritsa says with an arrogance that expects obedience. Her voice grates on Xiao’s ears, all too close to the long-ago echoes of Saizhen’s words.

“Yours?” Lord Rex’s eyes narrow, slivers of a threat.

“My harbinger.”

And Lord Rex digs his claw deeper into the ground, closing Childe off from the world. “And why should I simply return him to you, after the destruction you have wrought through him?”

“I only sent my vanguard to battle you once, Morax.” Tsaritsa smiles, and her teeth are white in the distant flash of lightning. “All this”— she spreads her arms— “he had chosen on his own.”

“And what was the price of his return?”

“Price?”

“Yes, Tsaritsa,” Lord Rex says, a dragon’s whisper. “If Childe had returned home injured and without my gnosis in hand, what punishment would he have suffered?”

A soft groan rises from the ground, a sound quieter than the crash of waves around them and yet louder than the thunder of an earthquake, and they all turn inevitably toward the source.

“What…” Childe rasps, and Lord Rex’s claw lifts as he pushes himself up on his hands.

“Hello, my Eleventh,” Tsaritsa purrs. “I see you’ve had a most… exciting vacation.”

There is no mistaking the way Childe’s already-bloodless face pales, his gaze darting rapidly between the Archons. “Your Majesty. It is— an honor to meet you here.”

“And yet it would have been much better if you had come to greet me weeks ago in Zapolyarny Palace rather than this foul, dark place, would it not?” Tsaritsa’s smile grows wider. “My plan has already met its end against the gods of wind and stone, so your service here is no longer necessary. Come back to me, Tartaglia. I always have more work for my vanguard.”

Childe crawls to his feet and limps heavily forward, his eyes emptier than the sea that heaves around them. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Between one step and the next, Lord Rex reaches out and gently hooks his talons around Childe’s body, lifting him off the ground. Childe lashes out at once, but with his bow shattered and his Vision half-buried in the sand some distance away, there is little he can do against Lord Rex’s scales.

“Morax?” Tsaritsa asks sharply as Lord Rex pulls a still-thrashing Childe back against his chest.

“I will not be returning this man to you. He is under my protection now.”

Tsaritsa scoffs. “You would dare to withhold from a fellow Archon a marked servant of their own? And here I was so sure you were meant to be the god of contracts.”

“To mark one of your people is a sign of devotion exchanged,” Lord Rex growls. “And yet I see no sign of your devotion to Childe. For you to have taken in a boy so scarred by the corruption of the Ley and trained him as a weapon rather than doing everything within your power to cleanse him— you wish to own, not love.”

The air around Tsaritsa begins to frost, and Xiao tenses. Foolishly, it seems, he had assumed that the end of the Archon War had also marked the end of Archons claiming living souls to be their weapons. Is this mortal so strong that she would risk battle with Lord Rex simply for the right to keep him?

“I was born the god of love, and yet you accuse me of such a thing?” Tsaritsa hisses. “Have I not taken care of him when his own family sent him away? Given him work and purpose? Made him strong? I have devoted to him all that he needs. Cease this interference with lives outside your own nation, Morax, and return Tartaglia to me.”

“But he is not outside my nation now, is he?” Lord Rex says quietly. “Childe has eaten of Liyue’s food and drunk of her water, has fallen in love with her harbors and charmed her people, has wandered her lands and even caught the eye of her Archon.” Placing a limply exhausted Childe on the sand before him, he tugs down the back of Childe’s uniform to expose his nape, where the Cryo Archon’s symbol shines bright as day to Xiao’s eye.

“You say you are just as devoted to him as he is to you. Then let us test that claim. I hope you are certain both that Childe’s loyalty belongs to you, and,” Lord Rex’s voice drops to a whisper, “that your love for him surpasses mine.”

Xiao can hear Aether’s soft inhale at his side; watches as Childe scrabbles back to life at the words, only to choke himself on Lord Rex’s grasp of his collar.

“Zh— Morax, let me go,” Childe snarls.

“And where will you go, Childe?” Comes Lord Rex’s murmur. “Back to Tsaritsa? Back to the corruption of the Ley, where the shadows you carry will drive you to madness? Back to a place where you will never have to face Liyue or her people again?”

“I need— I must return to Her Majesty. There are things I still need to do—”

“If you speak of your family, Childe, then do not fear. As I have promised you before, should you fall under my protection, naturally, so will they.”

Childe falls silent, but not for long. “Just— shut up. You don’t understand anything, and maybe you didn’t get the message the last time, but just to make it perfectly clear”— his face twists with emotion, but it is not the raw fury or loathing Xiao had expected. Instead…

“I hate you. And maybe if I’m lucky, this will be the last time we meet.”

Tsaritsa laughs. “See, Morax? It’s futile trying to keep him. Tartaglia belongs to me.”

Lord Rex sighs. “You are correct in that it would be a hopeless endeavor for me to claim him. But if your devotion does not hold, then our test is still required.”

With a sweep of his tail, a jade shield erupts across the sand, forcing Tsaritsa back out over open water and rustling Xiao’s hair as it expands past. Childe has fallen still, his eyes staring wide and unmistakably fearful into Lord Rex’s face.

For the first time, Aether speaks up. “Rex Lapis, with all due respect…” His gaze drifts to Childe’s weakened form. “I’m not entirely sure what you’re planning to do, but is it really a good idea?”

Lord Rex’s eyes fall shut, the world around him losing its amber glow. “No. And yet I do not know how else to protect him from Tsaritsa’s grasp while still passing judgement for the ruin he has brought to Liyue Harbor.”

With a choked sound, Childe jolts up, head rising high enough to see beyond the curve of Lord Rex’s body. “How… Aether?”

Aether turns to face him, mournful and gentle. “Hello, Childe.”

“What are you doing here? I thought… the last time I saw you…” Childe shakes his head, hard, nails digging crescents into his forearm. “When did I see you? No, wait— how did you end up with him?” His gaze darts to Lord Rex, then away.

“I don’t think you were entirely in control the last time we met,” Aether says, crouching down at Childe’s side. “Seeing as you almost tried to kill me and my friend. And as for Rex Lapis… we’ve known each other for quite a while now, and I came to help him defend Liyue Harbor.”

For a long moment, Childe simply stares at him, a storm churning behind his eyes. “Aether… what are you?”

“A traveler,” Aether says simply. “One who wants to help. Will you let me, Childe?”

Time itself seems to slow between them as Childe’s hand falls, fingers curling into the sand. “I…”

 

“Tartaglia,” Tsaritsa’s thunderous voice rolls over Lord Rex’s shield as the temperature around them plummets. “I have put up with this foolish bargaining long enough. Return to me, now.” And she lifts her hand to reveal a blue glint, sapphire that echoes the call of Childe’s soul. His Vision.

Xiao freezes, ancient memories of those who had lost their Visions clawing back to life in his mind. Tsaritsa’s threat is clear, and none of them have the strength to reach her faster than she can shatter the mortal’s Vision.

But when she holds out a commanding hand, Lord Rex’s talon shifts at Childe’s collar, and Childe looks back. Hesitates.

Tsaritsa’s lip curls.

And even Lord Rex’s furious roar cannot drown out the crack of a soul being torn asunder.

Notes:

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Chapter 38: When It All Falls Apart

Notes:

 

 

TW: Forced non-sexual bonding, some blood and gore, minor self-harm (Childe)

The world slows, time unspooling around them.

 

Glittering fragments of the Vision fall, like a rain of death, into the sea—

Tsaritsa’s mouth opens wide in a laugh, Sigils of Permission fluttering up from the ground to spiral around her—

Childe falls soundlessly, body contorting and seizing as he fights to keep madness at bay—

Aether turns to little more than a blur as he captures Childe in an unbreakable hold; barely, barely restraining the mortal from tearing himself apart—

Xiao moves in parts, toes flexing in the sand as he launches himself up, arms shifting as he draws his weapon from the ether, vision narrowing as he relentlessly pours his focus into a single strike—

Lord Rex unleashes his power without restraint, shaking the heavens, closing in should Xiao’s attack fail—

“Loss for loss!” Tsaritsa shrieks, Sigils glowing brighter and brighter around her. “My harbinger for your people. Is that not fair, O God of Contracts?”

She is a threat to every promise of the first contract Xiao had formed with Lord Rex, and he aims straight for her chest, her gnosis—

But though he misses as Tsaritsa falls back, Lord Rex does not, his claws tearing her open in two great strokes, ichor and ribbons of flesh peeling away from her body as she howls—

Power explodes, Sigils and Archons and elemental fury all in one, and the thunderclap that bursts across the sky as Tsaritsa is banished from Liyue is enough to turn Xiao’s vision to white and fill his ears with a piercing, endless screech. He tumbles back toward the ground, and—

Lord Rex scoops up Childe’s shattered Vision, power already swelling anew as he dives for its owner—

 

The Sigils flutter down.

And with the snap of a thread, time slips back to its rightful place once more.

Xiao wastes no time running to Aether’s side, catching him as he collapses, weak and trembling into Xiao’s arms. When Aether falls, so do faint binds of anemo that had been stretched over Osial’s thrashing form, and— of course. The defeated god would not simply have stopped his attempts to escape for Tsaritsa and Lord Rex’s conflict, so Aether must have both held Osial down and kept Childe protected, all under his own power.

Pulling Aether just close enough to support his failing limbs, Xiao rests his cheek in damp, salty hair. How much Aether does for them, while expecting nothing in return.

The ground shakes with Lord Rex’s storm of grief, and Xiao rushes to lock hands with Aether’s, sheltering Childe between their bodies as Osial is struck down and down, buried beneath wave and sand and stone, once more sealed for the ages. Pure elemental power sears over Xiao’s skin, and he grits his teeth, struggling to hold a cloak of wind and shadow over Aether’s far more vulnerable form.

Just as with the Yaksha long ago, the power of Childe’s lost Vision settles over Osial’s ocean grave like snow, strengthening the seal immeasurably. Lord Rex keens— it is, after all, proof of a life sacrifice.

With Osial out of the way, Lord Rex next runs to Childe, divine vessel streaming away into dust and gold until he is left in the simple white robes of his mortal form, arms outstretched. Xiao and Aether slip apart to allow him near.

“Childe,” Lord Rex groans, but the mortal remains limp in his grasp, face sallow and half-open eyes spilling trails of blood down his cheeks. At the back of his neck, Tsaritsa’s claiming mark flickers wildly, for even divine connections cannot endure such final betrayal.

Impossibly, Childe is still alive, his mind intact— but even with the resistance it seems he had gained from the demon eating at his body and soul, he will not last much longer. To repair his Vision, however… there is only one recourse. There is only the test, which no longer concerns Tsaritsa’s devotion, but rather Childe’s will to live. And though Childe had utterly rejected Lord Rex’s help before, his consciousness is too far gone to choose his own fate now.

“Forgive me, Childe,” Lord Rex whispers, begs, as he places two fingers over Childe’s nape. “Forgive me.”

Geo pulses, and Childe screams, breathless and terrible, as an Archon’s power forces its way into his soul. Though his face is drawn and pale as he works, Lord Rex does not relinquish his grip on Childe’s neck as he carves himself a new place in the mortal’s power, filling the cracks of Childe’s Vision like stones piling into a trickling river to make the waters rise. There is no doubt that Childe will have Lord Rex’s power at his fingertips once this is over, but Xiao can only fear what he will do with it.

Slowly, the icy points of Tsaritsa’s symbol bleed away into gold as Lord Rex etches his claim onto Childe’s skin. The mortal writhes and sobs beneath him at what must surely be agony, but if Lord Rex were to stop, it would only mean his death.

With a soft sound nearly drowned out by Childe’s cries, Aether’s eyes press shut, head turning down and away as if to block out the sight before him. Hesitantly, desperately, Xiao reaches out, and Aether does not fight when Xiao pulls him against his shoulder. Hope flickers. If Aether is still willing to accept Xiao’s comfort, little as it is, perhaps their bond may be restored yet.

Soon, Xiao takes shelter in Aether’s presence for his own sake as he watches Lord Rex pin Childe to the ground, Childe lashing out at him like a trapped animal, even when there is no escape. Carefully, Lord Rex lays his Vision to the side, its surface now a patchwork of elements, but still healed and whole.

“Childe,” Lord Rex pleads. “Please, you must give yourself to me, if only for a moment. You will die without proper healing, but I will not be able to restore you if any of Tsaritsa’s mark remains.”

A wordless noise scrapes its way from Childe’s throat, harsh and guttural.

“The claim is forever,” Lord Rex whispers. “That, I cannot change. But you will remain your own master, no matter what. I am not saving your life simply to end it in a different way.”

Silence throbs between them with the tension that vibrates through Childe’s body. He breathes out.

And his body abruptly slumps in Lord Rex’s grasp, eyes slipping shut and head dropping to the sand to expose the back of his neck. It could perhaps be seen as a gesture of submission, but all Xiao can taste is his bitter defeat.

Lord Rex inhales, shuddering. “Thank you, Childe. I promise you will not be abandoned again, nor will I betray this trust you have given me.” Gently, he gathers Childe into his arms and presses his lips to the flickering mark on Childe’s nape. “Let it be a contract set in stone.”

There is no great release of power when the claim falls into place, but Childe reacts anyway, his back arching, eyes shooting wide. Veins of soft gold flicker beneath his skin, crawling outward from the mark, and he trembles as Lord Rex cups a hand over his neck.

“Zh-Zhongli, you—”

“You’ve done so well for me, Childe,” Lord Rex murmurs into Childe’s hair. “You may rest now. Judgement for your actions against Liyue Harbor will only come when you are safe and rested.”

It is a matter of moments for Lord Rex to pour his healing into Childe’s body, the destruction wrought in the time without his Vision so perfectly repaired that the mortal might well have never been injured at all. Xiao has never seen Lord Rex claim a mortal as his own before— not when contracts had always sufficed— and when Childe is writhing under every one of Lord Rex’s touches, divine power scorching through his body, perhaps Xiao can understand why.

“Hh-hah,” Childe gasps. “Zh—Morax, I don’t need— let me go.”

Lord Rex frowns heavily— and Xiao knows the mortal will suffer without his new Archon’s touch, just as Xiao had suffered without Aether— but he obeys Childe’s command, slowly releasing his grasp and allowing Childe to tumble from his arms.

A press of fingers at Xiao’s shoulder makes him look up, and he meets the shrouded gold of Aether’s eyes. His hand twitches over Xiao’s armor, as if intending to do something more— but in the end, he only pulls away, giving Xiao a slight nod before hurrying to Childe’s side.

“It is done,” Lord Rex says wearily, and Xiao watches with him as Aether quietly descends to his knees, helping Childe lift his head so he can spit out a mouthful of blood and sand. “And yet, there is much left to take care of.”

“I will serve wherever you need me, Lord Rex,” Xiao murmurs.

With a sigh that shakes the earth, Lord Rex pulls his dragon form back around himself and bends his head. “I believe I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay, Xiao. But for now, you have more than earned your rest.”

“Zhongli, are you planning to carry us all back to the harbor?” Aether asks then, his arm wrapped supportively around Childe’s shoulders.

“I would not force you to make your own flight after all you have done,” Lord Rex says. “And Childe… you need only stay with me as long as it takes to—"

“I don’t care. It’s not like I have much of a choice anyway,” Childe interrupts tonelessly. He leans heavily on Aether’s shorter frame as they stand together, his gaze turned away from Lord Rex.

And Lord Rex flinches, the smallest of movements, but Xiao is still left stunned. Wordlessly, Lord Rex lowers his body to the ground and sweeps his tail around so Aether and Childe may use it to climb.

Xiao settles himself first, expecting to assist Childe up, but the mortal stubbornly leans only on Aether, dragging himself up on his own power and sitting behind Aether rather than the more secure place behind Xiao. Such foolishness is exactly why Xiao had hoped not to interact with the man, and yet… Xiao would not have chosen to sit beside his master’s servant either, had he been in the same position. Aether is a far gentler, safer presence to take shelter in.

The clouds overhead are just beginning to drift away as Lord Rex takes to the sky, revealing low, sinking moonlight that casts the sea and damaged harbor before them in silver. With the storm winds stilled and the tides calming to their usual susurration against the beach, Xiao can sense the mortals slowly descending back to their city, fear and hope and uncertainty vivid in the threads of even their waking dreams.

Lord Rex brings them to land upon a splintered wharf as the sky slowly pales, and a few adepti spring down from the surrounding buildings to meet them. Cloud Retainer, Moon Carver, and Mountain Shaper are there, of course, and Ganyu approaches alongside an elder adeptus Xiao knows had taken to life among mortals some time ago.

“One hopes the calamity is well sealed once more,” Moon Carver says as they all make their bows to Lord Rex.

“Osial is indeed gone,” Lord Rex sighs. “Though at a greater cost than I had hoped.” He crouches to allow Xiao, Aether, and Childe from his back.

As Childe’s feet hit the ground, Cloud Retainer rears back. “Rex Lapis, this mortal…”

“I have claimed him from the Cryo Archon, and his punishment will also be by my hand alone,” Lord Rex says in a voice that allows no argument. “But even if he had not been mine, now is not the time seek revenge.”

“…As you command, Rex Lapis.”

The click of footsteps over stone announces the arrival of a new adeptus— no, half-adeptus— whose ivory horns and pale hair glint with the beginnings of dawn.

“Greetings, Rex Lapis!” she says with a bob of her head as the only sign of her respect. “I am here on behalf of the Liyue Qixing to ask if it is now safe for the people to return to the Harbor.”

“Ah, Yanfei,” Lord Rex greets her. “Thank you for your assistance defending the city. You may tell the Qixing that the battle is over.”

“No need to thank me! It would’ve a been a real problem if I had simply sat back and allowed our home to be drowned by an old god,” she says with a flip of her hand. “Now, let us do our part in restoring what you protected.”

And she trots back up the street, never turning around even as she waves her farewell. To Xiao, such a thing would be unthinkable— but neither does he fear Lord Rex’s reaction to her disrespect, he realizes.

Lord Rex watches her go for a moment before turning to the others, golden light on the horizon illuminating him from behind and blinding them to the wounds that mar his scales. “Osial may be sealed, but there is still a great deal to do for the prosperity of Liyue Harbor. Will you all lend me your strength for just a short while longer?”

Xiao joins the other adepti in a deep bow, while Aether lays a hand over his chest, standing beside Childe’s unmoved form.

“Just tell us where to go.”

 

--

 

With Aether still injured and weak and Childe forbidden to roam, Lord Rex keeps them both close to his side, and, after assigning the other adepti their duties, allows Xiao to join him in his work near the docks. There should be no reason for it, when Xiao’s abilities are far better suited to guarding the city from lingering threats than elemental manipulation and manual labor— but this task means he can keep Aether in sight, and he is grateful.

Lord Rex treads an ever-widening circle around the center that is Aether and Childe, pulses of geo sinking into the ground to seek any damage that might have been inflicted by the waves of the Vortex. Xiao follows a few steps behind, clearing pieces of the broken wharf and piling them up for the mortals to use later. Aether directs him to their placements with quiet gestures, and Xiao eagerly obeys. Anything for Aether’s favor.

Soon, Lord Rex finishes his circling and plunges into the water, where Xiao can sense him stabilizing the foundations of the sea. A ship with battered red sails slowly drifts in as Lord Rex works, other boats of all sizes trailing behind it, and Xiao recognizes it as the one that often lingers around Guyun. A mortal woman stands at its prow, unmistakable strength curling serpent-like around her.

A faint tremor is the only warning before Lord Rex bursts from the deep, a fountain of dawn-lit water showering over them all. Voices from the boats cheer and whoop and shriek, and Xiao pauses in lifting a wooden beam to take in the sight.

The woman on the first ship lifts her hand in a salute as Lord Rex glances at her, then calls something to the rest of her people that has them turning slowly aside to lead all the other vessels to their places in the harbor.

“This will do for now,” Lord Rex says as he lands beside Aether and Childe, water still pouring off his scales in a sheen. “Let us return to the palace so you may rest.”

Aether stands, then pauses. “What about Chongyun and the others? We left them in Chihu Rock— though they might have moved on by now, I suppose.”

“I will see to it that they are taken care of, but I expect the night’s battle has not taken so great a toll on them. If you would like to assure yourself—”

“No, I trust you.” Aether shakes his head. “And besides, I’m pretty sure I can feel Chongyun’s aura even from here.”

Indeed, the warmth of Chongyun’s power blinds Xiao to near anything else in that direction, even more so now that his senses have strengthened. Any remnants of Osial’s hatred will find it nigh-impossible to invade the city as long as Chongyun is there.

“Very well.”

Lord Rex flies them back to the palace in silence, and Xiao breathes in the cool air of a morning cleared of storm to help settle his mind. While Lord Rex restores the harbor, it will be Xiao’s duty to care for Aether and keep watch over Childe until judgement can be passed, ready the palace for the visitors that will surely come later, and find a way to earn Aether’s forgiveness. None are tasks he has trained in, and yet he must complete them regardless.

Lord Rex deposits them at the gates of the palace, and bends down to offer some final instruction. “Childe, you will be staying in my rooms, but you are free to treat them as your own. Xiao and Aether will, I hope, be able to assist you with anything else you might need, and though I may not be able to grant your every request, you will never be forbidden from asking. The palace and grounds are open to you, and I will accompany you should you have reason to leave.”

He turns to Xiao and Aether. “I must fetch Childe’s family before Tsaritsa can recover, but my return will be no later than nightfall, along with any others who plan to stay in my home. Unless some dire circumstance arises, there will be no further need of your help today, so please use this time to rest without concern.”

Aether nods for them both, and Lord Rex wastes no time leaping into the skies once more.

Slowly, Xiao turns away from the cliffside to push open the towering gates, leading the way for Aether and Childe’s weary steps. They make it to the palace door before Childe stops, one foot on the threshold.

“Hey, Aether…”

“Yes?” Aether asks, gentle.

Childe’s throat works. “I… guess there’s really nothing I can do about this, huh? At least it’s a nice prison.”

Aether studies him for a moment. “I won’t say it’s not punishment, because… well, you did what you did, and Zhongli can’t just ignore that. But I sincerely doubt he’s arranged this for the sake of watching you suffer. And you’re not powerless either.”

“…Not powerless?” Childe scoffs. “I haven’t been this weak since… since I was a baby. My Delusion is broken, I’ve lost Her Majesty’s favor, my Vision has been refusing to work since Morax did this to it…” His fingers clench around the uneven glow of his Vision. “I don’t even have my weapon anymore. There are slimes stronger than I am right now.”

No doubt his body is also aching without Lord Rex’s touch to soothe the fire of the claim, and for one who seems to have fed the corruption in his soul with violence, such helplessness must be fear itself. This, Xiao can understand.

“Your limitations are temporary,” he says. “Lord Rex will not force you to remain in this state, and he will give you the freedom to choose your own strength once you are healed. As the God of War, he values warriors like yourself quite highly.”

Childe’s gaze cuts to him, and Xiao stares back evenly.

“And how do you know that?”

There are many answers Xiao could give: that the tales of Liyue often emphasize it, or that he is Lord Rex’s servant, or that in both the fury of battle and the calm of rest, Lord Rex favors those who seek strength. But if Childe is a weapon like Xiao, then there is only one option.

“Lord Rex has done the same for me. Even when he would have been right to simply break his enemy’s lost blade.”

Childe blinks, searching Xiao’s face, lips parting for a moment before closing again without a word.

He steps over the threshold.

With a nod, Xiao beckons him down the hall ahead, slowing here and there so Childe may study the opulence around them. They make it to the great door of Lord Rex’s room with no trouble, and Childe shuffles forward to poke at the nest in the middle of the floor.

“He sleeps in this thing?”

“It’s comfortable,” Aether answers vaguely, and when Childe glances at him, he lifts his shoulders. “Zhongli usually invites us to sleep here, and I’m pretty sure you’ll also be welcome to join if you like.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Childe turns away from the nest to begin idly sifting through the closets and shelves that line the walls.

Aether watches him quietly for a while, and Xiao pads over to stand as close to his side as he dares. They wait.

“…How are you feeling, Childe?” Aether asks eventually, and Childe pauses. “I mean, you seem much more centered now than the last time we met.”

“Last time— I don’t know what that was,” Childe says shortly. “Honestly, I don’t even remember much of it. Just… I was so angry, and it wouldn’t stop. It never does on its own.”

The more Xiao learns of this mortal, the more incredulous he becomes. How had Childe managed to accept a demon into his body and survive? Or is it perhaps that the demon itself was the reason he had been able to endure contact with a corrupted Ley Line? Regardless, it is only hurting him now, and much like Chongyun, his powers will likely return anew if it is exorcised. Xiao could purge it, but… he is not yet willing to inflict immeasurable agony on the mortal by tearing out a portion of his soul, not when gentler methods may still exist.

“Once Chongyun comes back…” Aether murmurs. He shakes his head. “Childe, do you want to see the rest of the palace? We can get you a bath and a change of clothes, and something to eat if you’re hungry. Or you can just lie down now, I know you’re tired.”

“I’m fine,” Childe says, visibly straightening. “Guess I’ll take a bath if there is one.”

“It’s not far.”

Aether leads them the few paces down the hall and into the room he and Xiao share, pushing Childe through the door at the back. “Everything you need to get clean should be in there. I’m going to go borrow something in your size from Zhongli’s collection, and I’ll be right back.”

He leaves again with careful, measured steps that bely his weakness, and after a moment of hesitation, Xiao remains behind to follow Childe into the steamy air of the bathing room.

“You planning to join me?” Childe asks, brow raised.

“No.” Xiao has no desire to make himself so vulnerable before this man.

“So what, you’re just going to watch?”

“Yes.”

“…That’s— you—" Childe scrubs roughly over his face. “Aren’t you one of those high-and-mighty adepti? Don’t you have something better to do?”

Xiao frowns at him; at the unflinchingly irreverent speech. “You are my duty, as Lord Rex commanded.”

“Look, I don’t need— a guard dog, or whatever you’re meant to be. I’ll behave. It’s not like I can cause trouble with this leash on me anyway.” Childe digs his fingers into the back of his neck, and Xiao can smell the faint tang of blood.

The mortal is hurting himself, and over Lord Rex’s mark. That will not do.

Darting forward, Xiao catches Childe’s wrist before he can pull away, feeling the muscles of the man’s arm flex sharply as he fights Xiao’s hold.

“What are you doing?” Childe hisses, and Xiao returns his glare.

“Do not needlessly injure yourself like this.”

“Injur— it’s just a little blood, and it’ll be gone by tomorrow. Why are you even worried?” Childe attempts to yank his hand away, but Xiao does not yield to his mortal strength.

“Lord Rex has chosen you as one of his treasures, and I am bound to guard you as he would. Aether, too, intends to care for your needs, and I am merely an extension of his will. But even if neither of them were here, I would have no wish to watch your pointless suffering. Now stay still.”

With his empty hand, Xiao reaches up past Childe’s backwards flinch and attempted block to press his fingers over the tiny wounds on his neck. He breathes in, slow and even, and exhales a healing flood.

“Will you stop touching m— gah!”

Without warning, Childe’s legs collapse under his own weight, and Xiao lunges to catch him before he can bruise himself over the hard stone floor. The self-inflicted injuries had healed instantly, and Xiao is certain he had made no mistakes in the process… and yet Childe is shaking almost violently in his arms, gasping for air and scrabbling at Xiao’s clothes.

Perhaps the cause is not the healing, then, but rather the energy Xiao had used to do it. Delving into the dark haze of Childe’s aura, Xiao searches directly for the place where Lord Rex’s claim shines bright, traces the threads of his own power to the same spot. Is his anemo incompatible with Lord Rex’s geo? Surely, such a thing should be impossible when Xiao has so long been aligned and contracted with his Archon; and more importantly, the energies he can sense are not clashing. Instead…

Childe is reacting to Xiao’s power exactly as he had to Lord Rex’s touch.

With a sharp breath, Xiao catches Childe’s flailing arms and pins them carefully to the floor, where the mortal will be unable to cause further harm to either Xiao or himself. Xiao’s alignment to Lord Rex’s energy must be just strong enough to resonate in Childe, though only when he infuses Childe with that power. Then… it is likely Childe is particularly sensitive to divine auras, those that burn at his darker one— and Xiao, despite his past, is still an adeptus.

Combined with weakness from the shattering of his Vision and the fresh claim from the oldest of the Archons on the neck, it is little wonder that Childe cannot keep control of his own body.

“Childe,” Xiao calls. Using his powers to ground the mortal will only cause more harm, so he must find another way. “Relax.”

“What— did you— ngh— do to me?” Childe gasps, veins sharply visible beneath the skin of his arms and temple as he struggles.

“You are currently sensitive to Lord Rex’s power, and my connection to him allowed my healing to resonate with the mark he left upon you. There is no need to fight, the feeling will pass soon.”

“Even when he’s gone I can’t— can’t escape that—" A few more strangled sounds claw their way from Childe’s throat. “Forget pass soon, I want— I need this to end now.”

Xiao regards him. There may indeed be a way to end the rebellion within Childe’s body, but that would require satisfying the connection his body desires, a connection his consciousness is rejecting even now. Xiao, too, had once restrained himself in this way, though only because he did not deserve Aether’s touch, even when he endlessly hoped for it. However, it seems Childe does not have the same ability to endure. How would Aether have soothed him?

“Very well.” Settling on the floor, Xiao releases his grip, dodges Childe’s flailing strike, and lifts the man’s head to rest on his knee. Careful to keep his nails away from Childe’s scalp should he thrash again, Xiao strokes over his rough hair. Once. Twice.

“…What…?” Childe asks, a strange, tense note in his voice as his body freezes. Perhaps he had expected some other method of control, but this is what Xiao has always needed, so perhaps Childe will find it useful as well.

“Rest. No harm will come to you under my protection.”

“Y-yeah?” Childe gasps out, petulant even in distress, it seems. “And how do you know that? What if your precious— ng— precious ‘Lord Rex’ comes back now?”

Does Childe expect Lord Rex to hurt him? Or is it that Lord Rex’s very presence would be the harm?

“I would— insist that he leave,” Xiao says, slowly. Surprised by his own certainty that he would ask such a thing and that Lord Rex would honor it. “And as for anything else, I am Xiao, the last of the Yaksha, and I have guarded the people of Liyue since Lord Rex allowed me to reclaim my own will. There are few in this land who could hope to challenge me.”

Tremors at last beginning to fade from Childe’s body, he looks up, and Xiao catches a dim glint of life in the mortal’s eye. “I bet I could give you a challenge. Or, well. Could’ve.”

Xiao shakes his head. “Foolish. However, I will indulge a fight when you are recovered if you wish.”

But rather than rising in interest as Xiao had perhaps expected, Childe stills for a moment before falling limp, gaze darkening once more. “Recover. Yeah.”

Steam drifts around them, the sound of water droplets over stone echoing loud in the stillness.

“…What is it that you fear?” Xiao asks, staring straight ahead. He should not be here, should not be the one attempting to unravel this mortal’s thoughts— but even if Aether were still willing to save him, this burden is not meant to be Aether’s either.

Childe scoffs. “I’m not afraid.” He pushes Xiao’s hand away from his head, and Xiao lets him. “Just sick and tired of being tossed around like a broken toy for the gods to play with.”

The darkness in Childe’s aura stirs with his resentment, and yet the sour fear remains.

“Lord Rex made you a promise on the shore of Guyun to end the… ‘play’ you speak of,” Xiao says. “By the claiming, he has warded off any who might have dared to touch you, and if your desire is to remain free, then Lord Rex’s oath to never again betray your trust binds him fully to that desire.” Little as Xiao likes such a promise to this dangerous mortal, it has been made, and Xiao can speak it as truth. “What is it that you fear?”

“I just said I’m not— you know what, forget it. You adepti obviously don’t listen anyway.”

Pushing off the floor, Childe stumbles toward the edge of the water and gracelessly tears off the torn, blood-stained remnants of his uniform. Xiao allows his gaze to drift impassively down the length of Childe’s body as it is revealed, taking in the scars that pattern his skin. The many scars. It is as Lord Rex had said, that day they had spent together in the lake before the Rite— Childe’s scars can indeed be compared to Xiao’s own.

Slashes and divots of flesh, ragged splashes of white and lines of deep red, crooked, ill-formed limbs that speak of injuries poorly healed, raised lash marks and papery skin that shines— even without the shadows that strangle the light of Childe’s aura, it looks… painful.

“At least turn around, why don’t you?” Childe bites out, and slowly, Xiao does so.

Staring into the rough stone of the wall, he listens to the padding of footsteps that signal Aether’s return. If Chongyun can be brought back to the palace sooner, if Aether can ease the jagged edges of Childe’s fear, if Lord Rex can reach Childe with a healing touch, it would be… good.

Yes. Good.

Xiao closes his eyes and hopes.

Notes:

I'd just like to take the time to thank every single one of you for your wonderful comments on the last chapter! Your pain was excellent writing fuel >:)

Check out my art and other fics on tumblr!

Chapter 39: Depths Rising

Notes:

Good morning everyone the gatcha archons smiled down on me for once and I am now the thrilled haver of a C2 Ayato in 190 pulls. He's so pretty and strong, and for what T_T
Anyway, you can all blame this man and his beautiful face and absolute troll personality when my next WIP drops and my writing schedule falls apart.

Now... get ready for PAIN

TW: Minor self-harm (ofc Childe), Tiny amount of blood/injury
(Edit 4/10/22: Added minor clarification regarding Xiao and Aether's bond.)

Aether is just tiptoeing his way out of Zhongli’s closet when he feels the muted pulse of Xiao’s power.

His first reaction is to panic. Why is Xiao fighting? Had something gone sour between him and Childe in their moment alone, or is there some other threat that Aether doesn’t yet know about? But before he can even gather the strength to start running, the unmistakable softness of healing trickles in— a healing that Aether is decidedly familiar with— and he exhales, relaxing.

This means… Xiao is healing Childe? While it’s certainly better than a fight, Aether still has questions.

With respect for his exhausted, aching body, Aether doesn’t bother rushing his way back down the hall. Even the small stack of clothing in his arms is almost too heavy right now. Rather futilely, Aether hopes Childe won’t need too much help after this— he’s much too tired to play the good host he should be.

Keeping Osial safely restrained for those few moments without Zhongli had taken far more of a toll than he’d expected.

By the time Aether makes it back to their room, all is quiet, whatever healing Xiao had been doing earlier apparently long finished. Quietly, he pushes his way into the dim baths and finds Xiao sitting cross-legged near the wall, facing away from Childe.

He takes a deep breath to steady himself before speaking across the unseen chasm. “Xiao… is everything alright?”

Xiao’s gaze snaps up, the glow of his eyes diffusing in the mist around them. “Yes. Though the mortal fears something he would not describe.”

Slowly, Aether lifts a brow. Had Childe and Xiao… talked? About feelings?

“Don’t listen to him, Aether,” Childe snips from his place submerged in the water. “As long as Morax keeps his promise to get my family to safety, I’m perfectly fine. Celestia save us from overbearing adepti who keep trying to fix me.”

Carefully, Aether drops his armful of clothes at the edge of the hot spring before settling down to idly kick his feet through the water. He’ll bathe once Childe is done. “Xiao isn’t usually one to comment on that sort of thing, so I hope you’ll excuse me for being worried anyway. And what Zhongli did to you… I know your relationship was already a complicated one, but still.”

Childe snorts, just a little too loudly. “What relationship? Sure, we played at friends for a while, but in the end, I’m the weapon who was sent to kill him, so of course it wasn’t real. Can’t really blame the Geo Archon for fighting back, either. I lost, he owns me, and now I have nothing left. That’s all there is to it.”

Staring, Aether opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again. “…I really, truly doubt Zhongli sees it that way.”

“You know, I’m sure he doesn’t. But he’s the one who played me for a fool from the moment I stepped foot in Liyue, he’s the one who thought we could just “go out for drinks like always” after he betrayed me, he’s the one who refused to fight me again even when I said I’d consider forgiving him if he gave me a proper rematch.”

With a splash, Childe heaves himself from the water, and Aether has to remind himself to breathe again when Childe steps into the light. Those scars…. He stifles the sudden urge to gather Childe into his arms and run his fingers over the marks of suffering until any lingering pain is erased.

“He doesn’t even see me as a person, let alone a threat,” Childe finishes. He scrubs a towel roughly down his body and yanks on the clothes Aether had brought, heavy robes of deep blue and gray. “Thanks, Aether. Guess I’ll just… go to bed now.”

“Of course. End of the hall,” Aether reminds him distantly, cringing when the door slams shut behind his retreating back.

The worst part is, he can understand why Childe feels that way. Zhongli is kind, but he also has a decidedly… immortal view of relationships and grudges and betrayal, a view that Aether can’t entirely escape from either. Childe’s assignment to kill Zhongli was probably little more than a slight to the god himself, whereas Zhongli’s revealed identity was clearly devastating to someone as straightforward as Childe. And that was all before Childe went so far as to attack the Harbor.

If Zhongli really had just returned to Childe expecting to carry on their friendship as if nothing had happened…

With a sigh, Aether carefully shrugs out of his own clothes, fabric peeling wetly away from the wound on his shoulder and scraping over the places where his skin is raw or bruised. He hisses, already dreading the touch of hot water over his injuries—

A hand grasps at his bare arm, and he twists to see Xiao hovering anxiously over him, eyes wide and searching.

“Aether— I smell—"

Aether bites his lip, hesitating. It probably won’t do any good to stop Xiao from seeing his wounds now, though, no matter how little he wants to give Xiao another reason to keep him off the battlefield. Shifting about, he exposes his sluggishly-bleeding shoulder to Xiao’s touch, and the fingers that come to skim over the edges are infinitely gentle.

A drop of crimson slips down and off Aether’s fingertips, swiftly dissipating in the shallow puddle of water beneath it. Xiao’s nose crinkles sharply.

“Please, allow me to— let me heal you,” he whispers, begging, and Aether nods helplessly.

It would be truly cruel to refuse Xiao’s care now.

A healing breeze curls around him, and Aether sinks back into Xiao’s arms, pretending, at least for a moment, that everything is as it should be. The muscles of his shoulder twitch and pull as they are stitched together, and his skin begins to itch, even over patches Qiqi had healed previously.

“You were injured even more than this,” Xiao says, tracing over a spot where the demon’s corrosion had burned especially deep.

“I… yes. But there was a good healer to take care of me, and I’m fine now.” Maybe now is a good time to mention… “Hey, Xiao… would you happen to know a girl in the Harbor named Qiqi?”

The deep frown that had etched itself onto Xiao’s face at the first words shifts to confusion. “I know none of the mortals in city.”

“Um, I meant… Qiqi’s not mortal, so— I guess I should ask if there’s anyone else you’ve shared your power with.”

Xiao blinks, then leans in with unmistakable urgency. “No, never. I— you are the only one I have ever given my power to, Aether, I promise—"

Hastily Aether reaches out to smooth both hands down Xiao’s arms. “Xiao, I’m not worried about that at all. After seeing Qiqi, I just thought it was unusual enough to mention.”

So then Xiao doesn’t know Qiqi, or else he’s somehow forgotten infusing a jiangshi with a not-insignificant amount of his power.

Xiao settles back down, though his body is still trembling faintly under Aether’s touch. “…Will you bathe alone?” He asks after a moment of silence.

“I would welcome you if you joined me,” Aether says carefully. Neither invitation nor rejection.

“Then…”

Xiao’s clothes fall away into the same glittering nothingness as their weapons, and he slips soundlessly into the water while Aether lowers himself inch by searing inch.

It is both agony and comfort to know that Xiao would rather be with him, even now.

They do not linger in the bath— Aether is exhausted, and with the connection between them no longer the safe haven it had been just a day before, the warmth of the spring is much less enticing. Once the blood and dirt and salt are washed from Aether’s skin, he gets out, wraps himself in a towel, and stumbles back to the bedroom without even bothering to dress again.

The robe he’d hastily thrown aside last night as they’d changed for battle is still crumpled on the floor, and Aether remains on his feet just long enough to pick it up and shove his arms through the sleeves before collapsing into bed. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he wrestles the sheets over his body and finally, finally allows his eyelids to fall shut, heavy as stones.

In the darkness, he traces over the outline of Xiao’s Heart, feeling for the spots and cracks of darkness formed by new karmic debt. Strange, how divines must pay such a great price for their ability to purify corruption, when humans seem to suffer no more than they would fighting any other enemy. Or perhaps it’s simply that humans are normally too weak to cleanse the demons adepti can.

No wonder even Zhongli had been so in awe of Chongyun.

Once he can get some sleep and things settle down, Aether will take the time to meditate and properly cleanse their Heart. He can only hope their damaged bond won’t hinder him too much.

The near-silent padding of footsteps tells him that Xiao has also returned from the bath, and Aether blindly waves him closer. “Xiao… will you watch over Childe tonight? Make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless, or— or hurt himself somehow.”

Xiao is silent for a moment. “But you…”

“I’ll just be sleeping. You can’t possibly expect me to get into trouble here, right?” And oh, he hadn’t meant it to come out quite so bitter. “…Sorry. But I’ll be fine.”

He can’t see what Xiao does, but slowly, footsteps retreat and the hall door quietly swings and shuts. An inexplicable lump forms in Aether’s throat as the final echoes of Xiao’s presence fade away. Somehow, it feels as though he’s struck another crack into the already-fragile porcelain of their bond, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.

Aether rolls over, away from the door. It’s the first time he’s been left to sleep alone, truly alone, since he’d left his house in Liyue Harbor, expecting the trip to be his last.

He hadn’t realized it would be so cold.

 

-*-

 

Dark. Everything is dark, so dark, and Aether doesn’t understand why. It shouldn’t be dark. He has Xiao’s light, the bond that twines like the untarnished silver of the moon between them, except— no, they’d damaged that, pieces scattering into shadow and fading away.

But he still has his people, at least, has the noon sunlight and the bustle and chink of customers and teacups, has a roaring kitchen fire and the soft warmth of ceramic between his hands—

His hands are empty. No, that’s wrong, that’s—

There’s Ganzhi and Kian, the children, the teahouse—

The smell of ash and sickness curls in his nose, pyres and incense and freshly turned soil. They’re gone. Have they always been gone?

Aether reaches out into the black; the floor vanishes beneath his feet and he’s—

—falling—

His own scream deafens him, but nobody comes, nobody comes, nobody comes.

Wings— his back aches with the hollows where freedom had once lived, and blood streaks across his skin. He doesn’t want to go back, should not, must not, cannot go back, but then the prism of dreams is closing around him, fracturing his thoughts, and someone is laughing,

Laughing,

White eyes. Black feathers.

A knife drives through his skull, and Aether is strewn out over stone, empty, empty, empty. Hunger has gnawed at him so long that even the feeling itself has starved, and he is grateful. He has nothing. No one. There should be someone, but their name is nothing more than a blur in Aether’s memory, lost to the endless maw of time. Only the yellow glow of their eyes linger.

More. More.

Lumine is there, and Aether lunges through the darkness, desperation tearing blood from his throat, but his finger close over a glimmer that winks out, and Lumine is crying. Her tears fall with Aether. Distorting in the shadow.

Ridges of black and red engulf him, and he is helpless, useless, the blazing eyes that pierce through him bringing judgement from the heavens—

But Aether has done no wrong—

No wrong—

Wrong.

He tumbles back, to a world that had fallen in fire and storm.

A world of ice eternal.

A world dissolved to dust and stars.

A world that burns gold under his touch.

A world that is broken under her blade.

Aether opens his mouth—

—And he lands.

 

Slowly, he picks himself up. Legs, yes, he knows how to stand, his back clicking into place joint by joint, his shoulders lifting, fingers extending until they remember how to split themselves apart. His body no longer hurts. The emptiness fades to a memory.

He opens his eyes.

Before him stretches a field of silvery flowers, all dancing to the currents of a soft breeze, their petals brushing like silk over Aether’s skin. Overhead, the sky is a blue so deep it is almost black, but it is far from the void Aether had been drowning in moments before. Stars fill the soaring vault, blinking their welcome and gathering Aether into the cool, healing shadows that had formed him so long ago.

He has never been here before, and yet the sight aches with familiarity, as if viewed through the distant lens of someone else’s dream. A world that is melancholy, but gentle.

Following the caress of the wind, Aether walks forward, leaving his fingers to trail among the nearly waist-high flowers. A voice calls to him, wordless, yet inexorable, and Aether obeys it without a thought. The voice is one he trusts. One that will always guide him.

The sea of blossoms grows shallower and shallower, a light shimmering on the horizon. This place is reaching its end, but Aether is not so ephemeral.

He takes one final step.

 

--

 

When he wakes, Aether can already feel the wetness that tracks down his cheeks, the ache of his lungs as they struggle around short breaths, the tangle of sheets around his limbs. Xiao hovers above him, blanketing Aether in shadow as the dry rasp of his lips parts from Aether’s forehead. He swallows, the sound loud in the otherwise silent room, and Aether stares dizzily up at him.

“You are safe now,” Xiao murmurs.

Safe… so it had all been a dream. A dream that Xiao had eaten?

Wait.

Jolting up, Aether reaches frantically for Xiao’s arm, searching his eyes, his face. “You just— Xiao, no, you don’t have to eat that, I— please don’t hurt yourself for me, it wasn’t that bad—"

Xiao pulls back at Aether’s sudden movement, his gaze filled with a wary confusion. “I am not hurt.”

“But my nightmare! You said Saizhen made you eat them from the people he attacked, and you were always in pain…”

Xiao makes a soft sound of understanding and relaxes a little under Aether’s hand. “Saizhen’s commands no longer bind me, so I am no longer required to devour mortal nightmares as I once did. Your dreams are bitter to me, nothing more.”

“…So it doesn’t hurt you anymore.”

Xiao nods.

“And you don’t have to hurt anyone else.”

“I do not.”

Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Aether slumps, releasing Xiao’s wrist and falling back against the pillows. “I— I’m glad.” He pauses. “Do you only eat nightmares?”

Xiao frowns at him.

“That is, can you only eat the bad things, or can you pick out good dreams as well? If nightmares are bitter…” Aether at least knows the dreams Xiao had been forced to eat are the reason he can no longer stomach normal foods, but perhaps it’s also because he’s never tasted something sweet?

But abruptly, Xiao’s eyes grow wide, and he backs away. “I will never steal your dreams, Aether. I swear. The only threads I cut are nightmares, but if you wish me to stop—”

Slowly, Aether pushes himself up to sitting again. “That’s… that’s not what I’m worried about. I don’t mind if you eat my dreams, really— but if you’re enduring the bad ones, shouldn’t you be able to enjoy the good ones as well?”

“…I have no need of them.”

Despite Xiao’s words, his slight hesitation rings loud in Aether’s ears. “Well, if you ever decide you want to try…”

Xiao bends his head, low enough to hide his expression, but he says nothing.

Something freezes over in the space between them, the tension from the moments before Aether had gone to bed now rushing back in without mercy. Suddenly exhausted again despite his healing body, Aether shuffles back to rest against the headboard and brings his knees up to his chest. “How is Childe?”

“He has gone to sleep on the floor outside Lord Rex’s nest, but I have chosen not to disturb him,” Xiao says, still looking away. “It also seems the shadows of his aura are increasing again as the effects of the Sigils he used fades. He must be cleansed soon, before he again becomes a threat.”

Oh. Aether hadn’t expected the madness to return so quickly. That Childe is apparently sleeping on the floor rather than the nest is also a problem, but they’ll have to handle it later. Most likely once Zhongli and Childe have the time to sit down and… talk. Hopefully.

“I see. Has anyone made it back to the palace yet?”

“Lord Rex returned just before I came to you,” Xiao says, curling into himself a little more. “I— I could not sense your nightmare, so I stopped to greet him first. If I had known…” He falls silent for so long that Aether almost wonders if he’s going to finish at all. Then— “He also brought Chongyun, Xingqiu, Ganyu, Lord Barbatos, and white-haired mortal who seems to be tied to Cloud Retainer.”

“Oh, Shenhe?” Aether swings his legs off the bed and carefully stands. Xiao’s healing from morning seems to have done its job— his skin is once again smooth and whole, his ribs no longer aching, the slash over his shoulder just a thin, pale line. Slipping out of the loose robe he’d gone to bed in, Aether changes clothes and quickly braids his hair, snapping Lumine’s hairclip into place at the end. It doesn’t seem like there will be time for more elaborate dress today.

Outside, a faint trickle of sound leads Aether to the smaller dining hall. He walks in to find Venti just placing a large bowl of fruit onto the table, Shenhe standing stiffly beside the nearest chair, and Chongyun gently patting Xingqiu on the head at their place at opposite the door. When he draws a little closer, he can see that Xingqiu has propped his face in his hands and is staring blankly down at the wood grain of the table.

“You look well,” Shenhe says, and without warning, she sweeps in to briskly pat Aether’s cheek, shoulder, back, and hip. “Good.”

Aether blinks. “…Thank you? It’s good to see you as well— though I am surprised you’re here instead of with Cloud Retainer.”

“I will stay with Chongyun,” she says, and— ah yes, her sentinel-like position near the entrance of the room, between Chongyun and the door, makes much more sense now. “Many people from the Harbor have begun shouting the exorcist clan out of the city, and some have also moved into the clan’s house and now refuse to let them in. It seems the clan will not bother Chongyun again, but I must protect him until I am certain.”

“She’s been clinging to that kid all day,” Venti laughs as he too whisks over to Aether. “And so has little Xingqiu. You couldn’t even breathe in his direction without two guard dogs snapping at you!” He pauses suddenly, eyes narrowed and staring into the space between Aether and Xiao. “Oh?”

Aether looks too, but there’s nothing but empty air to his eyes. Maybe Venti will explain himself later. “Is there something wrong with Xingqiu?”

“He didn’t realize Rex Lapis was Mister Zhongli,” Chongyun says, his pale eyes wide and innocent. Perhaps a little too innocent. “When we got back home and Rex Lapis shifted…”

Xingqiu’s head snaps up. “Everyone knew, and yet none of you thought to tell me of this most urgent detail? I have shamed myself and the entire Liang family before our Lord Rex Lapis, I can never face them again. Oh Archons…” He drops back down to the table, and Chongyun resumes his patting.

“Sorry, Xingqiu,” Aether says as apologetically as his stifled laughter will allow. “It just… never really came up.”

He’s just pulling out the nearest empty chair when a loud crash in the distance sends everyone startling to their feet. A strange, stomach-turning pulse of energy washes over the room, and it’s all Aether needs, all any of them need to slam the door open and start running.

Childe’s yells and Zhongli’s rumbling voice become clearer as Aether weaves down the hall back toward the bedrooms, bracing himself against the emanating corruption of Childe’s aura.

“—then fight me you coward!” Childe screams. “I already know you don’t care, but at least let me die the way I want.”

“I will not allow you to harm yourself through me, Childe,” Zhongli says, stern and even. “And I do care, very deeply. Enough that I would prefer not to fight you again, after the pain we have inflicted upon each other. I also find myself concerned that you refuse to take care of yourself, even now that you are safe.”

“Hah! Is this about me not sleeping in your little nest? Did you want me to be your whore as well as your prisoner? Fine, then,” Childe spits, throwing his arms wide. “Take me! It’s nothing I haven’t already lost. At least this way you’ll be able to get some use out of me, right?”

“Childe—”

“And look, we even have an audience now,” Childe laughs, wild as the pitch-dark storm in his eyes. “Isn’t this what dragons enjoy? Showing off their new possessions?”

“That is not and was never my intent, Childe,” Zhongli says, voice rising above Childe’s madness. “I fear the corruption you bear is now speaking for you. Please, if you will just allow me to cleanse it—”

“You’re not looking at me,” Childe says, suddenly deathly quiet. “You’re not looking at me. You’ve never looked at me… I wonder why I ever thought you were. Look at me, Morax— no, Xiansheng. This is me. If you don’t like it, then kill me— isn’t it what I deserve by now? Come on, Xiansheng. Let’s fight.”

Zhongli is silent for a long moment. “Yes. You are… you are not entirely wrong, and for that, I apologize. But I still cannot fight you, not while—”

With a hiss, Childe claws long stripes of red down his own forearms. “It hurts. You brought that boy back here to torture me, you won’t fight me, won’t use me… at least Her Majesty gave me a purpose.”

Frowning, Zhongli glances back, where everyone is gathered in the hall behind Aether. “Are you speaking of Chongyun?” He steps forward. “If you will allow me to touch you, I can ease that pain, at least.”

“Get back,” Childe snarls. “Alright, I got it. You can’t be bothered to do anything on your own, so here— let me make you fight.”

He leaps forward with a roar, ridges of black armor bursting from his skin and engulfing his clothes to cover his entire body. Taloned fingers extend, dripping poison; limbs lengthen, eyes fill with shadow, bones deform to make room for whatever is bubbling up from underneath, and the cracks in his armor— his body— glow a sickly violet.

No weapon appears in his hand, but he doesn’t seem to need one as he lunges past Zhongli, past Aether, straight for Chongyun’s face—

Xiao slams Childe to the ground before Aether can even finish drawing his sword, and barely a second later, Zhongli descends in full dragon form, smoke hissing up from beneath his claws as Childe’s corrupted flesh eats away at them.

”H-hah. Finally,” Childe says, his voice turned to a low, grating rasp. He strains under Zhongli’s hold, and Aether flinches when something cracks, loud and wet.

“Enough,” Zhongli says, scooping Childe up.

Wrenching his body around, Childe frees an arm and lashes out with a burst of raw energy, a force to match that of the demon Aether had fought back in the Harbor. Zhongli’s only reaction is to close his eyes against the attack, the edge of which splashes over his snout, leaving behind a shallow, stained gash.

He exhales a long breath, even as the wound begins to heal itself. “I apologize, Aether, Chongyun, but may I leave Childe in your care? The demon he carries must be exorcised, but I feel it would be… less than effective if I were to attempt such a cleansing.”

“You’re still going on about this— grhk—!"

Solid pillars of geo clap shut around Childe’s arms, high enough to hinder his struggle, but not so elevated as to torture him. Childe writhes in his new bonds like a rabid beast, and Aether is forced to breathe in through his teeth as Childe’s foul transformation drips and fumes an oily sludge.

Zhongli retreats a step, shoulders bowed as he collapses neatly back into his human vessel. “I’m sorry, Childe. I only wish to end your needless suffering.”

Childe screams at him, a sound of mindless rage, and Aether quickly lays a hand over Zhongli’s arm to guide him away, both to remove the source of Childe’s torment and to protect Zhongli himself from the sight.

“Please leave him to us, Rex Lapis,” Chongyun says, his gaze steady upon Childe’s broken form. “I— I think I know what to do.”

“Should anything go wrong,” Zhongli begins, and Aether gives him one last nudge down the hall.

“If anything goes wrong, we have Xiao, Ganyu, Venti, Shenhe, and Xingqiu ready to step in and save us. You should rest, Zhongli. You’ve worked hard.” Aether offers him a smile, hoping to reassure away the fear that lingers in the amber of his eyes.

He’s not entirely sure it works, but slowly, Zhongli bends his head and turns away. “You have my greatest thanks.”

Shenhe, Ganyu, and Venti follow him from the hall, though not without their own accompanying nods (and a reassuring wink). Only Xiao and Xingqiu remain, and it’s hardly difficult to guess at why.

“I don’t like it, Yunyun,” Xingqiu says. “Leaving you alone with this— this villain when you told me he’s already tried to attack you once before—"

“But I won’t be alone. Aether is here too.”

“Of course, but—” Xingqiu’s face pinches. “Apologies, my liege, I don’t mean to doubt your strength, but if this Childe has been able to threaten even our Lord Archon…”

Aether huffs a laugh. “Well, I certainly don’t blame you for worrying, but those are special circumstances. Chongyun and I will be able to manage Childe just fine.”

For a moment, Xingqiu is silent. Considering. “Very well. Yunyun, if you feel safe, I shall trust your judgment. Should this man attempt any new nefariousness, I will be waiting just around the corner.” He rocks onto his toes, as if to lean into Chongyun’s space, before abruptly settling back again. “Ahem. Yes. Simply yell if you need anything.”

With a final glance back, Xingqiu trots down the hall and out of sight.

Reluctantly, Aether turns. “Xiao? Will you go with him?”

“No. I must remain to protect you from this demon.”

Aether bites back a sigh. “I’m… not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“I will not hinder your work.”

“I know you won’t, but that’s not what I’m worried about. Xiao, with your connection to Zhongli… I saw you were getting along with Childe well enough earlier, but given the state he’s in now, I doubt he’ll be able to separate you from Zhongli in his mind.”

“…Perhaps, but I cannot accept the risk of simply leaving you unguarded,” Xiao says, and though his expression doesn’t change, Aether has known him long enough now to see the stubborn set of his brow.

“We’re not unguarded,” Aether says deliberately. This feels like just another facet of their argument, but he’s already made things worse once. He doesn’t want to do it again here. “You would be listening from around the corner back there, and even if Childe were to escape, Chongyun and I are more than strong enough to defend ourselves for the moment it would take you to arrive.”

“A demon can kill in an instant, even when one is prepared for the attack.”

“And I don’t doubt that, but— look, he’s being held back by Zhongli’s power. It’s not as if we plan to go against him in battle.”

“…Despite that, the risk is—”

“Please, Xiao!”

Xiao's face creases with frustration. "After what happened to you in the harbor..."

"Why won't you just trust me?" Aether says, desperate and far too loud, and Xiao falls still, eyes fixed upon nothing at all.

Chest burning, Aether swallows hard. Takes a slow breath. “I’m sorry. I know you're only—”

The air blurs with shadow and wind, and Xiao is gone. Really gone, when even the bond— now shredded to little more than a filament by endless cycles of obstinacy and hurt— refuses to tell Aether where he is. His unfinished apology dies in the sudden emptiness.

Blankly, Aether reaches for their connection again, casting out a frantic, searching pulse and waiting for the echo in return, but there’s just— nothing.

Cold fingers brush hesitantly over Aether’s hand, and that’s all it takes for him to crumple, legs refusing to hold him up any longer as he slumps to the ground and huddles into himself. Stars. Is there any way to redeem himself from that?

“Aether…” Chongyun starts. In the background, Childe’s snarling has not ceased—has perhaps gotten even louder as his corruption was fueled by conflict.

“I’m fine,” Aether says, because he has to be. If it were any other time… but no, Childe won’t stay secured forever, and his suffering must be stopped.

Xiao… Xiao will simply have to wait.

Notes:

To the many of you who are crying over the continued lack of Xiaother fluff... I'm so sorry.

Consider following me on tumblr!

Chapter 40: Of Healing and Hurting

Notes:

It's that time of the year again, folks: Hell Week is upon me T_T
In light of my increased workload I will be putting a hold on responding to comments this chapter, though as always, please know I love and read each one over and over.
Huge thank you as always to my beta, Dragon, for absorbing my many plot ramblings and grammar atrocities before they get published.

TW: MAJOR D/S SCENE featuring unintentional, non-sexual noncon. As a reminder, if anyone wants more details, I will absolutely respond to comments related to those questions or concerns. Besides that, minor blood and body horror, self-worth issues (Childe).

“I don’t know of any exorcism strong enough to purify a— a demon all at once,” Chongyun says, watching Childe with a distinctly assessing eye— an exorcist in his element. “And besides, everything I’ve read says tearing it out of his soul like that would hurt him as well.”

“So all we can do is stay with him and wait for the corruption to be burned out?” Aether asks quietly. Time is his enemy now, when every minute they spend here means another minute Xiao is spending alone, rejected by his Heart.

“It’s the safest option.” Chongyun nods. “Um, let’s see… you can stay right here, Aether, and if I line up the nodes of power to make half an array…”

With gentle hands, he pushes Aether all the way down to sitting, then darts to Childe’s other side to settle into a mediative pose of his own. The spike of his aura sets Aether’s fingers to tingling, and then— they’re connected, lights hemming in the dark.

Childe howls, his body cracking and distorting so badly even Aether can see the demon roiling within him. A long, spiraling horn bursts from his forehead, bone-white instead of black, and with it comes a wash of miasma and dark misery strong enough shake the room and send hall decorations tumbling off their hooks and stands.

With a shallow breath, Aether settles more firmly into his meditation and forces his terror for Xiao away to a far corner of his mind. He won’t be able to afford even a moment’s inattention for this task.

None of them speak in the minutes— hours?— that follow, the only sounds left coming from Childe’s cries and the stomach-turning crack and shift of his body. Biting back the urge to flee from the terrible scene, Aether focuses on the rhythm of his breaths, each one gradually becoming deeper and cleaner as miasma recedes from the air. Accordingly, Childe’s struggles weaken with every passing moment, and without the demon to wreak havoc beneath his skin, the black armor stills.

”Move in closer,” Chongyun whispers into the lull, and Aether rises on legs that sting and shake after hours spent on the floor. It’s simple enough to match Chongyun step for step until they can both kneel within arms-length of Childe, their light now thoroughly drowning out the darkness.

Childe twitches feebly as they press in around him, but his eyes remain half-lidded and his arms no longer flex against the restraints. Blood and saliva drip from his mouth to slowly pool on the floorboards beneath.

“I’m sorry, Childe,” Aether murmurs. “Just a little bit longer.”

He exhales steadily, and while it has been long, long time since he could have given Childe a blessing of the stars, he can at least use the power Xiao has lent him to blanket Childe in a calming breeze. Beside him, Chongyun paints the air with mesmerizing strokes, talismans of ice freezing into existence at his fingertips.

“Sky-sent, banish the darkness and heed my call,” Chongyun chants, frost and purity spilling over as he weaves his incredible power into every motion. It’s passably steady too, even with barely a day’s worth of real training.

With a twitch of his fingers, Chongyun guides the charms to encircle their little group and cover them all in a soft, clean glow, one that burns away the last of the corruption clinging to Aether’s skin and Childe’s armor. A strangled sound leaves Childe’s throat, but he does not— and perhaps cannot— lash out any longer.

Some time after that, when the light and shadows creeping across the floor are beginning to dim a sunset orange, Aether is roused from his meditation by a heavy clunk, the echoes of which even shake the floor. The sound is followed by Childe’s hitching breath, and Aether looks up to see dust and chunks of ebony falling from Childe’s body— his armor slowly disintegrating as his body warps and shrinks back to a human size. It is as fascinating as it is horrifying, and Aether watches on to ensure that Childe isn’t hurting any more than can be expected.

Eventually, the only remaining signs of corruption are the rather adeptus-like blackened sclera of his eyes and the horn jutting from his hairline. Or rather, those are the only physical things. The despair that lines Childe’s shoulders and face is a different matter entirely.

Delicately, Aether stands and tiptoes the final steps over to Childe’s side, laying a hand just below the cuff of his sleeve. Childe flinches, and Aether has to force his own body still as a crackle of something akin to static bites into their skin. Corruption that resists Chongyun’s power even now.

“…’S quiet.” Childe’s voice is barely louder than a rasp, torn as his throat must be by now. “So quiet.”

“Is it better?” Aether asks carefully.

“Quiet. It’s quiet. I can’t hear.” Childe doesn’t even seem to be talking to them, really, his breaths growing shorter and shorter as he mutters. “Not good. I need— I need—”

At that, Chongyun approaches as well, and he very solemnly kneels before Childe’s slumped form. “I think I can finish exorcising the evil spirit now, so— so please just hold on just a little while longer. You’ll be free soon.”

Childe’s eyes, unsettling and still tainted by darkness, lift to meet Chongyun’s, but he makes no move to fight. “…Why are you helping me.”

Face scrunching, Chongyun studies him for a moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t I help you?”

Despite his occasional naivete, there’s no way Chongyun is that oblivious, and Childe seems to know it as well.

“Your home is Liyue Harbor, isn’t it? I tried to destroy you and everyone else.”

“I know that,” Chongyun says, his shoulders hunching a little. “And of course I’m— I’m angry about it. But my duty as an exorcist and Rex Lapis’s command come before any personal feelings. Besides, I’ve seen possessions before, so I know you weren’t alone in your choices. The clan at least taught me that.”

“…You’re all insane. Is that what it takes to serve the Geo Archon?” Childe mutters— but there is very little heat in his words.

“You’d better get used to it,” Aether says lightly, and Childe’s gaze flits to him. “Seeing as you’ll be staying with us for a while longer.”

Childe makes a rough sound that could perhaps be called a laugh, but he says nothing more.

“I’m finishing this now.” Chongyun lifts two fingers in a simple sign, power sparking in the air.

“From whence you came.”

Childe only whimpers as a final trail of black smoke curls up from his mouth, remnants of the demon which now dissipate harmlessly into the air. With a great sigh, Chongyun drops his hands, the intensity of his aura easing a little with the banishment of the threat. “It’s done.”

And thank the stars. Gently lifting Childe’s face, Aether uses a fold of his robe to wipe the last trails of bloodied saliva from Childe’s mouth, carefully drags up one of his eyelids to ensure the darkness is gone, then presses a thumb to the base of his horn— a horn that is apparently permanent, made of Childe’s own body rather than a borrowed curse.

Groaning, Childe presses his face into Aether’s touch— almost certainly unconsciously, but Aether obliges him all the same.

“How do we free him?” Chongyun asks, poking at one of the pillars encasing Childe’s arms as if it were some particularly volatile explosive.

“…Call Zhongli back?” Aether muses. “If Childe couldn’t break them, I doubt either of us will be able to, though I’m not sure now is a good time for them to see each other again. I suppose I could also pray to him, if he can hear such a specific request…”

“Or we could ask someone else to tell him,” Chongyun says practically. He raises his voice. “Um… Xingqiu?”

“Yes?” The response drifts back.

“The exorcism is finished now… will you ask Rex Lapis to break the pillars, please?”

A pause. “Our… guest is no longer a threat?”

“We’re safe,” Chongyun calls back, a smile tugging at his lips.

Distant footsteps patter away, and Chongyun settles back down again. “Xingqiu plays too many pranks sometimes, but still, I’m glad he’s here.”

“I can tell,” Aether says softly. “It’s… comforting, to see the two of you getting along so easily.”

Chongyun’s face falls. “Oh. I’m sorry, Aether, I didn’t think— that wasn’t meant to remind you of— of Xiao. I know you two are… together?”

Aether can’t help but laugh at his uncertainty. “I guess it would be more surprising if you hadn't realized. For divines, though, relationships are usually much more… solemn, compared to what mortals experience. You already know Xiao and I are bonded, for example— we share Xiao’s Heart, so we also share strength and pain… and, of course, death.” He sighs. “That’s part of the reason we were fighting, actually— we both want to protect each other, but we have… very different ideas of how to accomplish that.”

Mouth wrapping around a silent oh, Chongyun leans in. “So— so Xiao wants you to always stay away from danger, and you… want to fight the danger with him?”

“At its simplest,” Aether agrees.

“I see… I’ve read a great deal about the adepti in my search for exorcism knowledge, but I guess I never really thought about how a life-born adeptus’ Heart would work.” Chongyun nibbles at his lower lip. “Um, if I may ask… how did you and Xiao end up bonded like that? When you were living in the harbor, you had that little altar to him, I remember, but you were still so sick…”

“That would be because we met a long time ago, when Xiao was still a god’s weapon in the Archon War. It’s too long of a story to tell now, but just know Xiao and I couldn’t escape that god for… quite a while, and once we got out, Xiao decided to leave me behind in Liyue Harbor as his way of keeping me safe.

After that, we didn’t meet again until that day I left the harbor with Lady Ganyu. That was also when I started carrying Xiao’s Heart, and… well, you know most of the rest. In a way, I suppose, we were courting for thousands of years before anything really happened.” Aether laughs to himself, but Chongyun mostly looks horrified.

“Thousands of years? But if you’ve known each other for so long, then why—"

A great crack interrupts whatever Chongyun had meant to say, and they both dash forward to catch Childe as the pillars crumble and he falls.

Aether takes most of Childe’s weight as soon as they’re not all in danger of toppling over, but when he tries to lay him down on the ground, Childe’s arms shoot up to latch around Aether’s neck. He’s trembling.

Cautiously, Aether extends his senses to comb through as much of Childe’s aura as he can reach, only to immediately withdraw when a stab of Childe’s agony filters through. Regrouping, Aether licks his dry lips, as if that will somehow help him sort through the layers of pain. There is emptiness, of course, a sense of raw, torn edges and poison bled out— the unsurprising result of effectively tearing away a piece of Childe’s soul.

But there is something more beneath the surface, a dim gold that seems to ache without end, that calls out but receives no response. It feels distantly like the tear Aether had rent in his bond with Xiao… is this pain the wreckage of Zhongli’s claim?

“Hurts,” Childe grits out into Aether’s shoulder, and Aether gently readjusts him so his horn isn’t in danger of impaling Aether’s jaw.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Aether murmurs. “Can I help you lie down?”

“No. Yes— I don’t know.” Childe’s grip tightens. “Hurts less when you’re close.”

“…Alright. Let’s do this.” Hoisting Childe into his arms, Aether carries him a few steps away from the mess of blood and drool and geo-damaged floorboards, then arranges them so that Childe is lying flat with his head on Aether’s folded knee. If proximity is helping ease Childe’s pain, then it seems that either direct contact with the purity that had wiped out his demon is soothing to him, or something about Aether’s power is satisfying his neglected connection to Zhongli— or possibly a little of both.

Chongyun may be able to help if it’s the former. And if it’s the latter… well, Aether will figure something out.

“It really is quiet,” Childe mumbles restlessly. “I’d forgotten how quiet everything was. Before.”

“Did the demon… talk to you?”

“Talked, sometimes. Screamed. Wanted. Not in words, but it was— I was— always hungry. ‘S how I made it so far under Her Majesty’s command. Nothing could stop me.” Childe sounds almost proud of that. Then his head falls to the side, angled away from Aether. “I don’t have anything left, now. I hope Morax wasn’t planning to get any more use out of me, because he’s taken away everything I could’ve given him.”

Silently, Aether brings his hand up to start combing through the mess of Childe’s hair. He can’t say that Zhongli doesn’t want anything from Childe, because— well, there no mistaking that he does. And it seems like it would only do more harm than good to explain that the thing Zhongli wants is Childe himself— everything from his health and strength to heart and devotion. No doubt there is no one Childe would want to connect with less right now.

At least he is no longer quite so violent about his rejection.

“How would you feel if Chongyun joined us here as well?” Aether asks instead.

Childe pauses for a moment, apparently considering it, before huffing out the shadow of a laugh. “I guess he can’t hurt me just by existing anymore, huh? And if he really would rather ‘do his duty’ than kill me… sure. Why not?”

Already on the move, Chongyun gives Childe a reproachful look as he sits down. “Even if I really did want to hurt you, I already promised I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ve heard that sort of thing before and learned not to trust it,” Childe scoffs weakly. “Excuse me for having my guard up when we both know you could do whatever you wanted to me right now.”

“I… I wasn’t even thinking about that…” Chongyun counters, but now his expression is more distressed than anything else. “What about Aether? You trust him, right?”

For a moment, Childe’s eyes flutter open. “…You’re a good kid, aren’t you? For what it’s worth, I am sorry I tried to kill you before, even if I don’t really remember much.” He blows out a short breath. “And Aether… I at least trust that he doesn’t care about my connections to anyone or anything enough to try and use me.”

“I do care about your connections, Childe. I care that you’re in pain and cut off from your old life with only the two of us to help you handle it,” Aether says, scratching gently at Childe’s scalp just to see the tension in his face ease a little.

“I’ve been in worse situations.”

“Why am I not reassured?” Aether sighs as Chongyun begins to etch a complex spell array into the air before them, the manifestation of his promise to help.

Despite its size, the drawing doesn’t take long, and Chongyun claps his hands together to light up the array, ice-bright, and send it bursting like a cool breeze over them all. “I’ve never tried that spell before, so I don’t know how long it will last, but… it should seal Childe off from the pain like— like a bandage over a wound.”

Childe makes a soft noise then, and Aether looks down to see wet trails dripping from the corners of his wide-open eyes. Eyes that are glassy on the surface, but a deep, clear blue underneath, like the surface of a morning sea. Eyes that are no longer hauntingly empty.

“Oh no, I— is he okay? I didn’t mean—"

“He’s alright, I think,” Aether interrupts Chongyun’s fretting, feeling Childe’s distant, bone-deep relief wash over him. “…It seems like your power is just a little overwhelming, especially considering what we just exorcised. Childe?”

“’S good,” Childe rasps, eyes fixed unseeingly up at the ceiling and spilling more silent tears down into his hairline. “It’s— I’m fine.”

Quietly, Aether returns to stroking over Childe’s hair and the red marks on his face left behind by the crumbling armor. He contemplates trying to soothe the inflamed skin around Childe’s new horn as well, but if the spot is anywhere near as sensitive as the base of Xiao’s horns… better not to risk it. Has Childe even noticed the surprise addition to his features?

By now, the hall has fallen past dusk and into near-total darkness, only distant light from some other room and the glow of Chongyun and Childe’s Visions still allowing them to see. The world is peaceful and still, but the encroaching night is only sending greater and greater waves of fear crashing through Aether’s chest.

It’s been hours, and still Xiao has made no appearance or given any signal through the bond. Darkness is the time he shines brightest, but also the time he could most easily lose himself, and the fact he might have been left entirely alone in its midst…

“’M tired,” Childe slurs into the quiet, tear tracks drying on his face.

“I’m not surprised. Should we find you a bed?”

“Mm… thanks, Aether.” Childe sharpens for a moment. “But I don’t— I can’t sleep in Morax’s bed. Not there.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Aether reassures him. “There are plenty of guest bedrooms you can use.” He glances anxiously down the empty hallway as they all stand. “Would you mind if Chongyun helped you to a room instead of me, though?”

“Huh…? Uh, guess that’s alright. Where are you going?” Childe shakes his head a little, as if trying to clear it.

“…I don’t know how much you remember, but as we were trying to get everyone else to leave the hall, I… made a mistake. A big one. And now I need to track Xiao down to fix it, as soon as possible.”

“I remember a fight, but…” Childe trails off. “Go. You can’t afford to lose family, right?” A crooked smile tugs at his lips even as he slumps heavily onto Chongyun’s shoulder instead.

“Please be careful, Aether,” Chongyun says earnestly. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

“Thanks.” Aether gives his hair a quick ruffle. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

His mind races with his feet as he sprints off down the hall. If the bond won’t tell him where Xiao is and he has no hope of traveling at anywhere near Xiao’s speed to search for him, then Aether will just have to try the next best thing. Surely Xiao wouldn’t have had a reason to avoid Zhongli too, right?

 

--

 

“Xiao went out.” Is the first thing Zhongli says when Aether bursts into the dining hall, doors slamming in his wake despite their weight.

Aether takes a moment to glance around at the other occupants of the table— there’s Venti, sitting at Zhongli’s side and looking uncharacteristically serious, Shenhe picking at a bowl of qingxin, and of course Xingqiu huddled in a chair near the door, his eyes wide as he watches Aether. Ganyu is conspicuously missing from the group, and Aether returns to the deep frown etched on Zhongli’s face.

“Then— where is he?”

“He asked for work, so I agreed to send him to the Harbor after Ganyu to guard against any remaining threats.” Zhongli’s voice softens a fraction. “I could see his turmoil and the damage to your bond, though I only know what Venti has told me of your conflict. Xiao left only minutes ago, so you may still be able to find him near the entrance of the Harbor, depending on how he chose to travel.”

Aether rolls his shoulders, infinitely grateful that he has regained at least some power of flight. “Thank you.”

“Ah, but— before you go, Aether…” Zhongli says with sudden hesitance. “I will not go to visit him just yet, but may I know how Childe has fared? I could sense some of his pain during the exorcism…”

Aether blinks, then lifts a hand to roughly scrub over his face. Of course Zhongli would want reassurance of his own, and that really should’ve been what Aether mentioned first.

“He’s… he’s not well, but he’ll be fine after some time to recover, I think. He has a few new injuries, both self-inflicted and from his attempt to fight you… he’s tired, of course… oh, and— he’s grown a horn, though I was wondering if that was from your claim instead of from the demon.”

“A horn?” Zhongli repeats sharply. “It is permanent?”

“It didn’t fall off with the rest of his armor, so…”

“Then… perhaps.” The table creaks under Zhongli’s grip. “I will take care of it as soon as he allows me to see him again. Thank you, Aether,” he adds, and Aether backs away with a bow.

 

Finally, he can focus all his attention on Xiao, on fixing his mistakes. The night winds sweep Aether up the instant he steps foot outside, and he welcomes their help as he presses on at full speed toward the Harbor.

Obviously, if he means to reconcile with Xiao, he’ll have to do more than just continue pointless attempts to convince him to stop disregarding Aether’s strength— particularly after so many centuries in which Xiao’s doubt was perfectly reasonable. Xiao wants to protect him. That is easy to understand. And if Aether wants much the same, then compromise— collaboration— should hardly be impossible.

First, he’ll ask Xiao for— a trial period, maybe, to prove his ability. He certainly doesn’t need to join in Xiao’s every battle, no matter how much he would like to, but if he wants Xiao to respect his strength, he’ll have to trust Xiao in return. Fortunately, that’s a much easier task for Aether since Xiao has been proving himself for thousands of years by now.

Once he can build Xiao’s confidence in his ability to fight and survive… then he can ask Xiao to work with him on the next step. More duties together or more dangerous battles, most likely. And if Aether asks for training from Chongyun as well— yes, that could work. Xiao will have much less reason to refuse him if he can exorcise or at least repel corruption of a demon’s strength.

Aether might never be able to protect Xiao through every battle, but if Xiao will at least trust and rely on him when he needs to… that will be enough.

The scattered, still-damaged lights of Liyue Harbor visible in the distance when Aether is at last able to catch a flicker of Xiao’s presence again. His eyes abruptly sting, and he hastily rubs away the beginnings of tears. Just the knowledge that Xiao is there is apparently enough to soothe away most of the fear that has been throbbing alongside his heart.

Aether tracks the feeling to the shadowed base of Mount Tianheng, among the lower crags away from the road and out of sight of the Harbor. Xiao is darting from stone to stone, swift and surefooted as he checks his surroundings— and yet he doesn’t seem to notice Aether’s arrival until Aether is very nearly overhead.

“Xiao!” Aether calls, trying to stifle some of the joy in his voice. He still has forgiveness to ask for and a plea to make.

“You—” Xiao bites out, and Aether touches down on the ledge beside him.

“Childe is safe now, so I came as fast as I could.” He starts to kneel down. “I’m sorry, Xiao, I—”

“You were supposed to stay,” Xiao growls.

Aether’s knees slam the rest of the way to the ground, and for a dizzy moment, he can’t think why—

A command. Xiao had given him a command.

His head pounds as an invisible weight presses down on his shoulders, his legs, his feet. Xiao’s voice rings endlessly in his ears, melodic and jarring all at once. A desperate need to obey wraps threads of iron around his chest even as they make his body slow. Trusting. His master has ordered him to stay, stay, stay. Why would Aether fight him?

“Xiao, wait—”

“These mountains are still crawling with spirits. It is far too dangerous for you to be here.”

“Xiao,” Aether tries again, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“I will return to the palace when my duties are done. Do not follow me.” His master— no, Xiao— turns away. Takes a step.

“Xiao, please, you—”

Shadows blur as Xiao vanishes, the faint brush of his presence disappearing with him.

Stay.

Aether forces himself to take a slow breath. Then another. It’s fine. Everything will be fine. His master hadn’t given him any other commands, either to set him free or make things worse, and the command that is pinning Aether to the ground was not spoken maliciously. It simply… exists, a moment of thoughtless desperation given life.

Can his master not feel the power of the command hooked into his Heart? Or is the bond simply no longer strong enough to carry the message?

Stay.

Gritting his teeth, Aether tries to shift his weight, to bring his foot up beneath him, but— well, it’s not exactly painful, but the fever pitch of the command brings him back down easily enough. He could break free, maybe, but it would require… a lot of effort. And his master had not given the order with a lack of conviction, no matter how unintentional.

Doesn’t matter. His master will be back soon enough, once he’s satisfied with the safety of Liyue Harbor at the latest and if he passes by Aether again at the earliest. All Aether has to do is wait.

Stay.

The command resonates with his Heart like a song, lulling him to stillness— because even if Aether had never wanted to end up here, he always wants to please the one whose Heart he holds. He probably deserved most of this anyway, if his master was so frustrated by Aether’s continued defiance of his protection that he ended up using the commands he hates so much.

Aether doesn’t mind losing a little control for the sake of easing his master’s worry— stars know he deserves the power after so long denying or being denied his own will. Still… Aether hopes his master will finish his duties soon.

Stay.

Aether stays. What other choice does he have?

 

--

 

Darkness settles in, cool and utterly impenetrable beneath a sky blanketed by heavy clouds. The lights of the road and harbor are hidden by the mountain— and thus Aether is hidden from any searching eyes as well. But it’s difficult to rouse the worry he knows he should be feeling when his master’s command still drips like honey through his thoughts, turning them slow and muted.

Aether’s knees are beginning to ache, but it’s hardly unbearable, and his master will likely be back soon. That, at least, he has no doubt of. His master— Xiao— doesn’t always agree with Aether on what it means to protect, but he would never intentionally leave Aether in this state, vulnerable and alone.

Stay.

 

--

 

An evil spirit comes hissing and slithering across the mountain grass, and Aether is fortunate both that it is weak and that the shackle of his command does not stop him from moving.

He exorcises it with Chongyun’s chant and a twist of his hand, then watches blankly as the remaining shadow drains away into the ground. Once his master returns, Aether will have to think of a way to reassure him, because Xiao would readily grind himself to dust for the guilt of leaving Aether in danger, no matter the circumstances.

Stay.

 

--

 

Everything hurts, even the steady breaths of meditation doing nothing to distract Aether from the bruising of his knees and strain of his muscles. A cold, miserable rainfall is beginning to sprinkle over him as well— signs of the dry season giving way to wet.

Where is his master? Dawn will surely break soon, and Aether knows his master is more than swift enough to have encircled the Harbor many times over by now.

He still needs to give his apology, and then… perhaps his master will help carry him home.

Stay.

 

--

 

Aether dares not sleep, but he idles in the haze between nightmare and reality as his body slumps under the relentless force of a command that had never been meant to last so long. Without his master’s direction or clear intent, the order has bound Aether to the simplest understanding of the words used. He can’t even pray for Zhongli when he knows the result would be his leaving without his master’s permission.

Has his master… forgotten him? Without the golden pulse of their bond, Aether has no way of knowing why his master is so late or whether he intends to return. Aether has obeyed his command perfectly, so his master should have no reason to be angry about that, right?

Stay.

 

--

 

The sun rises on the western foothills where Aether kneels alone.

He’s so tired.

 

Stay.

 

--

 

Aether hazily pries his eyelids open when frantic hands come to grasp at his shoulders, claws pressing bluntly into his damp robes.

“Aether, please rest. You may rest now,” a rough voice pleads, and Aether collapses into his master’s arms as the old command is released and the feather-light brush of the new settles beneath his skin.

“You came back,” he mumbles, and his master pulls him close, until Aether can tuck his face into his master’s robes and listen to the steady throb of his heartbeat.

Different hands, broad and thrumming with geo, fold a blanket over Aether’s body, and he curls into the warmth. His master has returned, safe and in the company of one he trusts. Thank the stars.

 

Perhaps Aether will even be able to make his apology soon.

Notes:

So how are we all feeling?

Chapter 41: Rekindle

Notes:

Thank you all for waiting patiently as I hunkered down for Hell Week! Without further ado, here's the other side of the cliffhanger

TW: It's just one giant, ongoing D/S scene, nothing sexual or non-con, but as always, drop me a comment if you would like a summary of the key points! Besides that, a few minor panic attacks (Xiao)

The day is bright and clear, morning sun illuminating the mountains all around, but Liyue might as well have fallen to shadowed ruin for all that Xiao can see it. His world is narrowed to nothing more than the roar in his ears, the chill over his skin, and the shivering bundle of warmth in his arms.

How long had he left his Heart— no, commanded his Heart to suffer here alone? Xiao has not been sick since he stopped devouring mortal dreams, but he swallows down bile now as Aether’s cold nose comes to press against the curve of his throat. The moon had been low and pale when Aether had first found him, and now— now the sun is blazing in the sky of a new day. Xiao dares not think on it further.

“Aether,” he rasps, desperate even to his own ears. “Aether. You are free now, please get up—”

Aether only clings harder to Xiao’s collar, and his movements are… disoriented. Sluggish. Has Xiao buried him so deeply beneath meaningless command that Aether can no longer reclaim his own will?

“Aether, please—"

“I do not believe he can hear you,” Lord Rex murmurs. “Or rather, he is in no state to respond to anything less than a command. He will first need to be guided up from the depths of his own mind if he is to recover.”

Guided? But that would require more orders, more pain, and Xiao… Xiao has already proven he cannot be trusted with his own Heart. “Then—please take him, Lord Rex,” he says, even as he burns at the thought of parting from Aether. “Perhaps when he is healed, I will—”

“I cannot do that for you, Xiao,” Lord Rex murmurs. “Aether is your Heart, your bond mate; and he has given his trust to you and you alone. My commands will not touch him— it is your power that has bound him, so it is only your power that can free him again.”

Xiao’s next breath cuts into his lungs. “I cannot. Already, I have hurt him beyond forgiveness, so to force him to further obey me would be—”

“I fear you do not understand, Xiao.” Lord Rex interrupts. “Aether’s current condition was born of his firm trust in you. Your bond is silenced, not shattered. He clings to you because he is waiting for a guide to lead him from the storm clouding his own will. Believe me when I say your connection is far, far from true ruin.” Kneeling, he looks Xiao directly in the eyes, and though Xiao cannot stop a flinch, he is no longer so terrified of his lord’s needless acts of submission.

“You are not to be blamed for this slip of power you did not understand, but it also falls upon you to heal the harm that was wrought. Please do not worry. I will not allow you to bear such a weight alone.”

Helpless, Xiao tightens his grip around Aether’s weak body and nearly crumbles when Aether clutches at him in return, hands and Heart seeking comfort from the very one who had torn it from him. “…But what can I do for him? He is not mine to command.”

Lord Rex studies him for an endless moment, and Xiao draws his body tight to keep from shuffling like a fledging warrior behind the lines of battle.

“Xiao… though your bond was not woven through force, Aether is yours to command, in the same way that you are his. This was proved the day we tested the limits of your will and Heart. Aether knows this too; and, I believe, was not unprepared to place himself in your hands should the need have arisen. And now it has.”

His to command. Xiao had abandoned Aether for hours, his senses so dulled by the torn bond that he had never once realized that Aether was all but imprisoned on the mountainside. And after returning to the palace, he had been too consumed by hurt and fear to think of searching for Aether until the world had begun to feel dark and hollow and wrong. Even then, it had only been by Lord Rex’s power and the watchful stones of Liyue that he had been able to find his way back to his Heart with any speed at all. Truly, Xiao’s failure is complete. Why, then, does still he have no choice but to crush Aether’s will beneath his bloodstained hands once again, all in the hope of saving him?

So be it. Whatever it takes to restore Aether, Xiao will do, no matter the cost. No matter the punishment Aether bestows upon him in the end.

Gathering Aether more firmly into his arms, Xiao swings himself onto Lord Rex’s newly transformed back and does not break the silence Lord Rex allows him as they launch into the sky and on toward the safety of the palace. After what Xiao has done, these favors are far too generous, but for Aether’s sake, he dares not refuse them, either.

Xiao bends his head against the winds of flight, only to jolt back up when his chin brushes over Aether’s blanket, tingling despite how far he had been from touching Aether’s skin. Even if what Lord Rex had said is true, even if the bond is not shattered… perhaps this is still the end. Aether had unmistakably come to apologize to Xiao, had approached with a subdued gaze and bowed head, and Xiao had repaid his goodwill with… this. How many more times will Aether allow him forgiveness before his patience runs dry?

 

--

 

The moment Lord Rex’s claws crunch down upon the stones of the palace courtyard, Xiao is shaken gently from his back and nudged on toward the entrance with great huff of breath. Aether’s shivering had turned to soft whimpers pressed desperately against Xiao’s collarbone during the flight, and even if Xiao does not deserve to be Aether’s guardian anymore, he cannot bear to feel the reminders of his Heart’s suffering.

Heal Aether. That is his only duty now.

But when he pushes through the palace doors, he is met by a cacophony of worried cries— and is forced to a halt by Chongyun’s reaching hands, Xingqiu’s gasp, Ganyu’s pungent fear and Shenhe’s icy rage, and Barbatos’s hiss of, “Celestia, your bond… what happened?”

Xiao does not fear them, does not doubt their concern for Aether— but right now, they are only a blur in his vision, obstacles in his path. He steps forward and forward again, jerking away from fingers that brush over his arm, a voice that asks questions Xiao cannot hear. They do not let him through, but Xiao must pass—

It is then that Lord Rex enters the hall as well, and with his appearance, the tension in air eases, if only for a breath. It is all Xiao needs to break free.

Faintly, he can hear the murmurings of Lord Rex’s explanation to the others as he darts away at a speed well beyond the realm of mortal sight, but as long as Aether’s friends are reassured, then Xiao does not need to understand the words. If they decide to condemn him later, then rage will be theirs to give and Xiao’s to accept without defense.

The door to his and Aether’s room clicks softly shut behind them, and Xiao comes to an abrupt halt, suddenly lost. He has brought Aether to a safe place to heal him as Lord Rex had instructed. But what is he meant to do?

Blankly, he walks the few steps required to reach the bed and lays Aether down on top of it, tucking the blanket Lord Rex had given them tighter around him so as to preserve what little warmth Aether has regained. Aether whimpers when Xiao releases him, and the sound tears at Xiao’s heart even as he again fails to understand why Aether still wants him at all.

“It is… alright, Aether,” he says haltingly. “You are safe.” Lies. “I swear I will not touch you further.”

The blanket shifts as Aether twitches beneath it, but it seems he does not have the words to explain his reaction— and Xiao is left in the dark.

“You— you must be cold. I will bring you some new clothes.” Xiao very nearly stumbles over his own feet in his haste to reach the closet. Then, when he pulls out the soft drape of a sleeping robe, he instinctively reaches for the bond to seek Aether’s approval— only to recoil when a howling silence echoes back. How quickly he forgets what his refusal to obey Aether has done to their connection. How quickly he had grown accustomed to their bond’s steady warmth.

Quietly, Xiao lays the new robes out beside Aether on the bed, but Aether does not reach for them. Instead, his hand slips out from beneath the blanket to grasp weakly at the hem of Xiao’s tunic, as if afraid Xiao will push him away. And though Xiao could break that hold as easily as cutting a blade of grass, he finds himself rooted in place by nothing more than the faint glimmer of hope Aether has suddenly threaded between them.

He sinks down to the floor, rests his head against the edge of the mattress, allows his tunic to hitch up so Aether’s fingers may remain entwined with it. “Forgive me, Aether. Please, forgive me,” he whispers into the silence. “Even now, I do not know what you want. I do not know how to heal you.” Because for all that he has learned from Lord Rex, no amount of healing energy will close the wounds he has inflicted this time.

For a moment, the only sounds are the soft hum of the geo lamps that illuminate the room and the fragile hitch of Aether’s breath. Then—

“…Xiao,” Aether rasps. “Master, please.”

Xiao jolts up, certain for a fleeting instant that someone had driven a blade between his ribs and torn him wide open. Master. Master. Aether’s words clang dissonantly through his body, and Xiao cannot breathe.

“Master,” Aether pleads again, piteous, and despite his promise not to touch, Xiao grabs his hand and pulls it away.

“No. No, I am not your master, I will never be—” Your power has bound him. Aether is yours to command. “Please, Aether.” Now Xiao is the one begging, but he cannot bring himself to feel shame for it. “Please do not call me by such a name.”

Aether’s fingers twitch in Xiao’s hold. “…Xiao,” he slurs out. “Xiao.”

The name is far from soothing when Aether speaks it so mindlessly, but at least Xiao does not feel as if he will shake to pieces just for hearing it.

…What is he doing? Aether is suffering, unmistakably lost in his own mind and struggling under the weight of Xiao’s demands. Worse, Lord Rex has already given instruction on what must be done, and Xiao had understood his duty from the start. There should be no reason for this hesitation.

Had he not promised to do whatever was required of him to restore Aether? To undo his mistake?

Command. That is the only way Aether will be able to understand him now. Xiao rises to his feet and exhales a shallow breath.

The knowledge does not make the first words any easier to speak.

“Aether…” Xiao begins, a tremble in his voice he cannot suppress. Aether had always commanded him gently, always kept Xiao’s attention centered upon himself, so perhaps… “Stand up for me.”

And Aether does, bursting off the bed and to his feet so quickly Xiao is forced to scramble back in order to make room for him. Aether rocks in place, the abandoned blanket slithering to the floor behind him, but all Xiao can see is the slack part of his lips, the pallid color of his skin, and the unfocused plea in his eyes. Something in Aether’s posture reaches. Yearns.

“Good,” Xiao says clumsily, placing a hand atop Aether’s still-damp hair, and Aether shivers beneath the touch, eyelids slipping half shut. Perhaps it is this encouragement that finally allows instinct to surpass his fear.

“Follow me.”

Aether trails half a step behind him as Xiao leads the way into the baths, into the soft, obscuring wisps of steam and dim phosphorescence there. It is the place Xiao had first truly bared himself to Aether’s gaze, the place Aether had patiently allowed Xiao’s touch upon his skin. Will that intimacy be of help to him now, or will it only become a reminder of the things he is no longer permitted to have?

No matter. Even if the memories hurt, Xiao’s only duty is to ensure Aether is warm and clean again, and he will not waste time completing it.

With all the gentleness Xiao can coax to his fingertips, he tugs Aether toward the edge of the pool and gestures for him to wait as Xiao strips off his own clothes and allows them to shimmer away. If he is to force Aether to expose his body for the sake of bathing, then making himself vulnerable first is the very least he can do to prove to Aether that he has no intention of hurting him further.

Aether blinks slowly as his gaze drifts across Xiao’s chest, and Xiao forces himself to stillness for the inspection. But rather than disgust or disinterest, Aether’s hand rises in a stilted motion, and Xiao’s breath catches as soft fingers brush over a scar on his sternum.

“Master…” Aether whimpers, barely loud enough to hear over the hiss of steam around them. Then he shakes his head, hard. “…no. Xiao. Xiao.”

It is as if he had been struck, but instead of a cruel fist, there is only an all-consuming warmth that bursts from deep within his chest. Despite the commands Xiao has buried Aether beneath, despite the obvious fog of his mind, despite the things he has endured and Xiao has inflicted— Aether is still seeking to comfort him, still listening to him, still showing him affection he does not deserve.

Does not deserve, but must accept all the same.

Catching Aether’s hand between both of his own, Xiao brings it up to his lips and brushes a kiss over the backs of his fingers— a brand, apology, and promise. A soft sound leaves Aether’s throat, and when Xiao slowly reaches for his still-cold cheek, Aether cants his head into the touch. Trusting. Sweet.

Xiao is allowed this. There is no mistaking the wound he has yet to heal, the rift that must be closed, but even so— this is his.

“Aether… I will undress you now. Place your hand on my arm if you wish me to stop.”

Xiao tucks his fingers into the fold of Aether’s collar and pauses, waiting for his decision— but when Aether moves, he reaches not for Xiao’s arm, but the diamond mark upon his forehead instead. The pads of Aether’s fingertips are softer than velvet over the sensitive spot.

Momentarily stunned, Xiao meets Aether’s gaze and finds an aurous spark of life, one that he had perhaps wondered if he had destroyed permanently. It is euphoria to have that faultless gold bestowed upon him once again.

Swiftly, Xiao finishes untying Aether’s robes and tugs off his underclothes, a task made even easier by the way Aether readily lifts his arms for every layer that Xiao removes. There are still places Xiao must nudge him along, moments in which Aether’s hazy state delays his responses— but the knowledge that he retains a sliver of his own will, even when bound by commands, is enough for Xiao to convince his hands to keep moving.

Once Aether’s clothes are at last entirely stripped away, piled in a heap beside Xiao’s flute and necklace and now-dormant mask, Xiao leads him over to the steps down into the pool. He had only hoped to hurry Aether into the water so he would perhaps feel safer, hidden from unwanted gazes, but the moment they splash into the ankle-deep water of the first step, Aether recoils, his soft cry swallowed up by the muffling clouds of steam around them.

Of course. Aether had been sitting out in the night air for hours and hours, cold sinking deep into his already-fragile human skin. It would be unforgivable if Xiao were to force him directly into the simmering heat of the baths now.

“Stop,” Xiao bites out in his panic, and the command, tempered by none of the sweetness Aether always used for him, grates even upon his own ears. Praise. He needs to praise, to lavish upon Aether the affection he deserves, but words are— all too often, words elude him, and Aether is the one who must suffer for Xiao’s lack.

Xiao opens his mouth again, slower this time. “Wait there, Aether. You need not— you must adjust to the temperatures first. Relax.”

The cowed bend of Aether’s shoulders eases a little, and Xiao can breathe again.

“I will take care of you.” The words spill from his tongue before he can properly consider them, but they do not change what he plans to do, so he lets them lie.

Cupping his hands in the steaming water, Xiao lifts the contents up to Aether’s shoulder and parts his fingers just enough to let it trickle out over Aether’s skin. Aether shudders visibly, but does not flinch as he had while stepping into the baths. Perhaps this method will do.

Slowly, Xiao repeats the motion again and again, bringing warm water to splash over Aether’s chest and arms and legs— but though Aether is surely beginning to acclimate, the chill of his skin is too strong for the mere trickles of water Xiao pours over him, and soon he begins to shiver again. Xiao stares down at his hands. How can he give Aether more?

There is nothing warmer in this room than the springs that had burned Aether to begin with, and Xiao can wield neither pyro’s searing touch nor the golden warmth of geo. But despite the element of his Vision, he is still an adeptus, an ancient one at that, and he has more than enough raw energy to alter the temperature of his own body.

Carefully, Xiao turns his power inward, allowing his arms and hands to fill with a glow of warmth— living hearthstones that he may smooth over Aether’s skin. It is… difficult, to channel the required strength into something that must also be so precisely restrained, but the demands of this task are similar to those of the healing arts, and Xiao finds that he is not overwhelmed. It is perhaps the only relief to be found in this moment.

When he at last lays his hands on Aether’s skin, he cannot restrain a gasp, the breath tearing from his lungs as a tingling spark jumps between them— the first thing Xiao has felt from their bond in what he knows was merely a day, but might as well have been a thousand years. Desperately, he clings to the sensation, to Aether, and Aether reaches out with a tentative, hazy brush of his mind in return.

It is agony and bliss in equal measure, to have the reminder of what once had been and what could be again, if only Xiao does not fail in his duty to Aether.

To himself.

Because this, at least, he understands now— Aether has chosen Xiao, and no matter how foolish Xiao may find it, he will only hurt Aether more if he continues to pointlessly reject the devotion of his Heart. And when Aether’s pain is Xiao’s… it is as if he has driven a knife into their bond, attempting to remain safely distant, only to find the blade in his own back.

No more. This time, Xiao will accept his role and heal them both. After all, he now lives by the sacrifice of not just a human or divine, but of a celestial being whose existence spans the reach of the universe; one who has inexplicably offered his affection to a creature as insignificant as Xiao. And who is Xiao to ignore such a boon?

Aether makes a sound akin to a purr, and Xiao opens eyes he had not realized were closed to see utter contentment smoothing out the creases of pain and fear across Aether’s face. Their bond stirs, like the currents of shifting breeze, and if Xiao can convey to Aether even a fraction of his new resolve through it—

He dips his hands in the water again, then brings them up to fold gently over Aether’s cheeks and jaw, fingers combing into golden hair. Aether’s mouth falls open, a soundless cry, and Xiao slowly drags his palms down the column of Aether’s neck, indulging in the flutter of his pulse and silk of his skin. Impossibly, this— even this— is his.

Pressure rises behind Xiao’s eyes, but even when familiar liquid blurs his vision and drips down his cheeks, he pays it no mind. Right now, his attention is, and can only be, wholly consumed by Aether, Aether, Aether.

Over and over he wets and warms Aether’s skin, a heavy cloak of satisfaction settling over him when he can feel his hands drawing out the cold and replacing it with comfort that echoes faintly across the bond. Gently, always gently, he smooths his fingers over Aether’s collarbones and the slopes of muscle in his arms, finds the ridges of spine and shoulder blade to knead away the tension there, strokes across the planes of Aether’s chest and stomach to fill those soft, vulnerable places with his blessing of protection.

What he is doing now… it might very well be considered worship, Xiao realizes— for the care with which he tends to Aether surpasses even the reverence he offers to Lord Rex. Under an Archon’s contract, this should be nothing less than heresy, and yet… when he attempts to imagine his punishment, all he can see is Lord Rex’s pleased smile and benign touch.

Something ripples deep in his chest, and Xiao nearly loses his footing when he is met by the aching call of an offering. His offering of service, given to Aether, his Heart, now reflected back toward him in a calm, silvery stream.

It only reminds him again of how wholly intertwined they have become.

Aether’s body is warm now, flushed with color and life, no longer a cruel mimicry of the breathing corpse he had once been while trapped by nightmares and starvation. Xiao pauses in his ministrations and hesitantly brings a hand up to Aether’s sternum, splaying his fingers out over soft skin and feeling for the twin rhythms of Aether’s pumping blood and the power of their shared Heart. It is its own sense of peace, to hear and feel this proof of Aether’s strength.

Step by tiny step, Xiao begins coaxing Aether deeper into the pool, watching his face for even a flicker of pain— but although Aether twitches here and there as the water laps higher over his skin, his expression remains placid, his eyes ever fixed upon Xiao.

“Good, Aether.” Xiao whispers, an echo of what he remembers a master’s words should be. “I am— I am very pleased. With you.” The praise is unnatural on his tongue, and he cannot be sure if it will even be welcome in this moment. But Aether shivers with such intensity that Xiao can feel it even through their joined hands, and when Xiao instinctively rubs his thumb over Aether’s knuckles, he is rewarded with a faint whine that leaves him lightheaded, breathless.

They are far enough now to reach the stone ledges of the deepest part of the spring, and Xiao blindly sinks down upon the nearest one, tugging Aether along with him. But rather than settle on the ledge at Xiao’s side, Aether tumbles directly into— into his lap, curling into a ball and resting his head against Xiao’s chest with a soft hum.

Xiao chokes. The places where Aether’s bare skin presses against his burn like the stripes of a firebrand, and the fearlessness with which Aether seeks comfort from him is… is…

For a creature like Xiao, it is nothing short of a miracle.

Haltingly, he lifts a hand to trace down the curve of Aether’s back— but water and lingering sweat have mixed to a sheen over his body, and Xiao’s fingers slip, just a fraction—

—his claws meet Aether’s bare skin—

Xiao yanks his hand away faster than he would escape a searing flame, already searching desperately for blood or injury. But though he sharpens his vision far more than necessary to see through the dim fog of the room, he finds no dripping crimson, no knife-thin lines, no marks of corruption. Perhaps most tellingly, Aether has stirred only to drowsily lift his head, no doubt seeking the vanished touch.

“Mm… Xiao?” Aether slurs out, and Xiao forces his trembling limbs to stillness.

His claws had not torn. He had remained in control.

Aether is safe.

Hardly daring to breathe, Xiao returns his fingers to Aether’s back, maintaining only the faintest brush of a touch even when Aether begins to shift restlessly beneath it. He has touched Aether with his claws before, of course, through clothing or in measured strokes while using the pads of his fingertips, but in those moments, he had been aware and carefully precise. This touch had been a mistake… and yet no harm had come of it.

It should be folly to press his claws to Aether’s skin again, should be unforgivable to risk Aether’s body— but perhaps shock has clouded his senses, or else success has damaged his judgement, because no such warning rises in his mind. Xiao relaxes, and his claws come to rest fully over the ridge of Aether’s spine.

 

It is staggering, he realizes, how easy it would be to simply flick his wrist or tense his fingers and watch Aether’s flesh well up with crimson or fall away in dripping ribbons beneath his touch. That he has only now truly faced this reality is laughable. But it seems Xiao has learned, whether by necessity or force, how to feel even the tiniest of ridges and pits in Aether’s skin without ever cutting into them, judge the limits of the fragile human body, touch with the flat of his blades rather than the keen edges.

Awe stirs within him, and Xiao scratches gently down the length of Aether’s back again, and again, and again, if only to prove to himself that he can. With each motion, Aether nuzzles further into Xiao’s chest, his breaths content and even.

How much Xiao’s Heart has given him, is giving him, and how little Xiao has done in return. And yet, for perhaps the first time since Aether had sacrificed everything for him, Xiao does not find himself staring up at the light from the bottom of an endless pit or in the shadows of the great chasm of worth and worthlessness that divides them. He is still far away, still a being consigned to darkness— but the light has come— no, chosen to rest in his shadow, and his death-scarred hands have brought life to the precious existence held within.

The truth of it spills into Xiao’s mind like rich ink poured over a scroll: his control is finally— or perhaps has always been— more than enough to keep from harming Aether. And he will never intend to hurt Aether ever again.

Now that Xiao knows the freedom with which he may touch, it is impossible to restrain himself from doing so. He scoops up water to pour over Aether’s hair, inexpertly attempting to pick out the tangles as he goes. But though he must be tugging painfully at Aether’s scalp, Aether only tips his head further back into Xiao’s hands to ease the tension, and huffs softly whenever Xiao yanks out a particularly large knot. They are too far from the shelf of soaps and oils for Xiao to simply reach out and grab a bottle, and neither does he dare to shake Aether from his lap, so instead, he rinses the dust and sweat away from Aether’s body with his bare hands. A trickle of guilt rises as he drinks in every soft, warm inch of Aether’s skin— why should Xiao be receiving pleasure when all of this is meant to be for Aether’s sake alone?— but it is… difficult, to feel such remorse when Aether is responding with small groans and sighs as if each touch is a gift.

Again, Xiao drags the points of his nails over Aether’s back and down his arm, watching with a strange possessiveness the thin white lines that trail in their wake. Harmless marks that wash away with the next splash of water over Aether’s skin.

When the bathing is finished, Xiao nudges Aether forward, for though he is still unfamiliar with human needs, he can at least recall the times Aether left the springs after only a brief soak, his body red and overheated.

“Sit up, Aether,” he commands softly, and Aether rises with his guiding hand, blinking as if prodded from sleep.

“Xiao…”

His call is so gentle, and though it still echoes with a note of subservience, Xiao finds he is no longer paralyzed with fear at the possibility of being known as a master in Aether’s mind. “Yes?”

“Are you— are you happy?” Aether’s fingers come to rest low on Xiao’s ribcage, searching. Pleading. “You’re not angry at me anymore, right?”

How it aches to see a strong and brilliant star like Aether now seeking reassurance for such a simple thing. A simple thing that Xiao has nevertheless failed to make clear.

“If I was unhappy, it was only because I could not understand you. Understand myself,” Xiao rasps, carefully weighing each word before it leaves his lips. “I am not angry. But I… I deeply regret that I forced you to wonder it at all. Begging your forgiveness would not be enough.”

A smile melts slowly over Aether’s face, tension bleeding away beneath it. “It’s alright. I was s’pposed to apologize to you too, but…” A crease forms between his brows for a moment before fading away. “You needed me to listen to you. So— so I did.” He looks up then, gaze unsteady, but hopeful. “Is it enough?”

“…More than enough,” Xiao chokes out. “Far more than I deserve. Thank you, Aether.” Careful of his horns, he bends his forehead to Aether’s, suddenly desperate for the closeness, the proof that he is not repulsed by Aether and Aether is not repulsed by him.

Aether hums contentedly and settles back without a moment of hesitation when Xiao scoops him into his arms and up out of the water. There are towels piled on a rack to the side, and Xiao snatches up half a dozen as they pass, ignoring the heap of his things and Aether’s clothes still crumpled on the floor.

They move to the low light of the bedroom, and when Xiao delicately lowers Aether back to his feet, he stands far more steadily than before— trembling no doubt washed away now that he is no longer cold and exhausted and afraid.

The motions of drying Aether off are soothing, almost rhythmic, and Xiao pays no mind to his own dripping body or the water stains on the floor. He works until Aether looks acceptably dry and well-ruffled, then drapes a loose robe over Aether’s shoulders, intending to wipe himself down before continuing to help Aether dress. But the moment Xiao reaches for a towel of his own, Aether makes an urgent sound, and his fingers dart out to pluck at the corner hem in a movement both hesitant and determined.

“Xiao… let me?”

Hope curls like incense smoke across the bond, and when Xiao meets Aether’s eyes, he finds them surprisingly clear.

“…If that is what you wish.”

Xiao releases his grip on the towel and Aether descends upon him, drying his skin in soft, thorough strokes and never once scraping over any of Xiao’s more sensitive scars. As if Xiao is the one who deserves such reverence.

Instinct pushes him to smooth a hand over Aether’s bowed head, combing back the damp hair, and Aether near-purrs under the touch, a warm and satisfied noise. Good. If nothing else, it must mean Xiao is not failing to provide what he needs.

Once Aether allows the towel to fall, his task more than finished, Xiao summons back his usual clothing, unwilling to spend precious moments away from Aether just to change into something from the closet.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, the demanding words now rising easier from his throat, feeling less like shackles and more like the wings of some guardian beast, faithfully leading those beneath them.

When he holds out a hand, Aether takes it without hesitation, warm fingers twining with Xiao’s. Neither of them speak, but there is no mistaking the peace that settles over the room, like a breeze skipping over the surface of a summer pond.

It is in this lull that Xiao settles on the edge of the bed, intending to tuck Aether under the covers so he may properly rest— but rather than going to lie down, Aether simply drops to his knees on the plush rug before Xiao, sighing as if some great burden had just been lifted from his shoulders.

“…Aether?” Xiao manages to ask, but he freezes entirely when Aether’s head comes to rest on his thigh, pale lashes fluttering shut as he nestles in closer.

“Feels good…” Aether mumbles into his leg, and a shiver plunges down Xiao’s spine.

“Then you should stay,” he says, more than a suggestion, but still not quite a command, and Aether stretches into him, a cat on sun-warmed stone.

“Good,” Xiao whispers, and he wills the tension from his body to stroke a hand down the tumbling stream of Aether’s hair.

Their bond sings.

Notes:

So, have you all recovered from the emotional damage I inflicted in the last chapter? Just a little? Maybe?

If you're wonder why Xiaother spend so much damn time in the bath, its bc its one of the few places i can get them naked without any sexual connotations, so there-

Chapter 42: Interlude: Xiaother Art

For the sake of preserving comments, this hiatus notice has been transformed into an art break! Drink some water, get some sleep, and touch some grass as needed before carrying on >.>

Chapter 43: Become Like Morning Light

Notes:

I'm baaaack

Thank you all for your encouragement and nice comments while I was on hiatus, both on Ao3 and Tumblr :') I promise you I have read all of them many times over, and you all kept me motivated to finish this chapter (barely!) on time! Don't do summer school, kids. It's academic hell o_o

Also, does anyone wanna just s c r e a m with me about that Perilous Trail quest?????? Bc HOLY mcchicken nuggets:
- "General Alatus- FALLING IN!"
- "My brothers and sisters have come for me, Boyang"
- the YAKSHA OH GOD I don't even care that they messed up all the characters for this fic i'm just sobbing
- Yanfei: "Xiao you gotta come here so we can stick together, its not safe"
Xiao: "uhhhhhhhhh No"
Yanfei: "But Aether is hurt, and he might get hurt more if you're not here to protect us"
Xiao, instantly: "I am brEAKING THROUGH THE BARRIERS OF REALITY"
- The cutscene
- The cutscene
- The CUTSCENE
- Hot, competent ladies + Aether/Lumine getting things done
- And so much More!(tm)

Anyway! Onto the chapter, and huge thank you to Dragon and Jerenda for making this monstrosity into something readable! ->

--

Xiao is roused from his stroking of Aether’s hair when a tentative knock sounds at the door, accompanied by the touch of a restrained, stone-shaking power. It seems Lord Rex has come to visit them.

Rather than speak and disturb Aether’s hard-won peace, Xiao simply sends a pulse of energy through the floor— and after a short pause, Lord Rex’s head appears in the doorway. With a slow breath, Xiao meets the amber glow of his eyes and again forces himself to remember that Lord Rex would have no reason to do anything but help them.

“I see that your bond has settled,” Lord Rex murmurs as he enters fully. “And Aether is…?”

“Safe,” Xiao whispers, staring down at where Aether’s relaxed, sleeping face is resting against his thigh. “Safe.”

Lord Rex nods, and his smile is clear enough even in the dim room. “Then it seems I was worried for nothing. I imagine the others will be relieved to hear the news as well.”

The others. Xiao still shudders to think what their response will be, even if Aether emerges unharmed.

“And what of yourself, Xiao? Have you recovered as well?”

…What is there for Xiao to have recovered from? “I… suppose I have.”

But Lord Rex seems to sense his confusion, because he takes a small step in to rest his fingertips over Xiao’s shoulder. “A damaged bond frays at both ends, you know.” He pats Xiao there a few times, then lifts his hand away. “I have prepared something for you and Aether to eat, should either of you find yourselves hungry.”

Gold sparks at his palm, and a neatly arranged tray of food appears above it, slowly lowering to the bedside table within Xiao’s reach.

“Though I hope you will come to rejoin us when Aether is ready, there is no particular hurry. Rest well, Xiao. You have accomplished much today.” And of course, Lord Rex needlessly inclines his head to Xiao as he backs out of the room.

“…Thank you, Lord Rex.”

The soft, steady thrum of Lord Rex’s natural power lingers long after he has left Xiao and Aether alone once more.

 

When Aether stirs at last, nuzzling drowsily into Xiao’s hand as he lifts his head, he spends a moment in perfect silence, gaze flicking over the room and the rhythms of his body shifting with wakefulness. Xiao waits anxiously for recognition to spark in his eyes.

“…Aether?”

Heavy-lidded eyes meet his, followed by a soft, easy smile creeping over Aether’s face. “Hi, Xiao.”

A wave peaks and crashes down, a quaking mountain settles. Relief.

“Was… was Zhongli just here?” Aether tilts his head searchingly, the question rasping into a cough.

Hastily, Xiao scoops up one of the teacups on the tray beside him. “He came to ensure that you were recovered. Here, drink.”

Aether hums, and instead of taking the cup as Xiao had perhaps expected— he simply leans in to place his mouth at the rim, leaving Xiao to catch the back of his head and tilt the cup far enough for him to drink. It is truly a miracle that Xiao does not mistakenly splash the hot tea across Aether’s face in his surprise.

Aether drains nearly half the cup before pulling away with a rough sigh and relaxing back onto Xiao’s leg. “That’s better.”

A frisson of guilt makes its way through Xiao’s chest. Had he been ignoring Aether’s other needs while trying to lift him from the prison of his submission, or would it have been more of a mistake to try and force Aether to eat during those hours? The question scratches at his thoughts, but there is little point in worrying over it now. At least Aether’s speech no longer sounds quite so painful. “Lord Rex also brought— food. If you like. Are you hungry?”

Aether is silent for a moment, and his aura— the aura Xiao can sense once more— flickers with reluctance and a distant nausea. It is an unpleasant reminder that on occasion, Aether struggles with food just as much as Xiao himself.

“…I’ll eat if you want me to,” Aether says quietly, and Xiao is left torn.

“I… do not wish to see you starving again.”

Aether laughs a little. “It would take more than one missed meal for that. But alright.”

The robe draped over Aether’s shoulders rustles as he sits up on his own again, and he looks— looks like some forbidden treasure, a temptation, a dream, suffused as he is in the swirl of his and Xiao’s power. Comfortable as he seems kneeling at Xiao’s feet, hair spilling golden down his body, his gaze clear and serene.

Thoughtlessly, Xiao reaches out to cup his cheek, and Aether obligingly tips his head into the touch. Xiao wants more, wants to somehow show Aether this wonderous vision of himself, but he has no idea how.

“Xiao?”

A kiss? But no, it is far too soon to be asking such a thing from Aether. It would be a different sort of intimacy, a different give-and-take than that of the hours they had just spent together. “…It’s nothing.” He drops his hand and turns back to the tray. “Would you like fruits or…”

Xiao trails off, staring at the mound of soft, white squares beside the bowl of fruit— a dish no doubt chosen by Lord Rex specifically for him. Though he understands the purpose of food as a form of care, it is still strange how often the others will make such effort to include him in meals he often does not eat. “Fruits or almond tofu?”

“…If I say almond tofu, will you share it with me?” Aether asks, and there is little Xiao could do to refuse him.

“Very well.”

There are a pair of spoons nested at the edge of the tray, so Xiao holds one out to Aether and, now balancing the plate of almond tofu between them, uses the other to scoop up a bite for himself.

He pauses halfway when he feels Aether’s bright eyes fixed upon him. “Is the plate too far?” He starts to lower it closer to the ground, but Aether shakes his head.

“Would you…?” His gaze flicks from the dish, to the spoon in his own hand, to Xiao’s hand, then back again. “…No, it’s alright.”

Almond tofu. Separate utensils. Xiao’s touch. With the old memory of Aether’s fingertips brushing over his tongue to spur him on, Xiao changes direction to place the spoonful he had just taken against Aether’s lips. If Aether had wanted to drink tea this way, out of Xiao’s hands just as Xiao had eaten from Aether’s, then surely this must be the correct choice—

The small, sweet noise Aether makes as he nips the almond tofu from Xiao’s spoon might even be enough to replace the echoes of a thousand years of suffering in Xiao’s mind. Aether’s eyes close as he chews and swallows, and when he opens them again, they almost seem to glow with wonder.

“Oh,” he breathes, and then a deep flush begins to creep up his neck and over his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Xiao. I really should’ve just said it—”

“It is no trouble,” Xiao interrupts, but he is warm, basking in Aether’s pleasure. Briefly, he allows his fingertips to brush over Aether’s cheek before returning to the plate for a spoonful of his own.

From there, it is easy to settle into the rhythm of feeding Aether every other bite, catching stray drops of sugar that escape Aether’s mouth and shivering when Aether licks his fingers clean. He takes care to savor the essence of the almond tofu on his own tongue, because Aether watches him with soft, slivered eyes whenever he does so. The mildly spiced tea Lord Rex had chosen washes away the overpowering sweetness when they are done, and Xiao takes to stroking over Aether’s hair and down the back of his neck as they allow the meal to settle.

Faint, breathy whines vibrate against Xiao’s knee every time he traces his claws along Aether’s nape— and so on the next pass, he hesitantly pauses and spreads his fingers out to half-encircle the column of Aether’s neck.

“Mm…”

Xiao freezes when Aether arches beneath him, pressing further into his touch, seemingly mindless of the vulnerable position into which he has fallen. His lips are parted, eyes closed in apparent bliss, and ribbons of gold-tinged anemo flutter across the newly restored bond and into Xiao’s soul.

Xiao cannot fathom it, but it seems— somehow, Aether is— Aether is at peace beneath Xiao’s controlling hand.

Without warning, a ripple of strange power passes through the bond and into the hollow where his Heart would have sat in his own chest— and suddenly Xiao finds himself full of light, a shroud of burden lifted as Aether pours himself through their Heart. As he wipes clean the tally of karmic debt they had earned in the harbor.

A hazy, satisfied sound leaves Aether’s throat, and he nestles deeper into Xiao’s hold even as Xiao is left reeling.

Had… had Aether been planning to purify Xiao all along? The cleansing now had been far too swift and gentle for mere whim, no matter how skilled Aether may be. In lieu of some enormous surge of power, hours of meditation and focus would have been required, along with a willingness to heal, at the very least.

Hours ago, Aether had been firmly under Xiao’s command, Xiao’s betrayal on the mountainside surely still fresh in his mind. And yet he had still…?

It feels as if a hot stone has settled in his gut, guilt and wonder and gratitude all helplessly snarled together. Once again, Xiao fails to understand how he could have been allowed such a gift as Aether, but he must not falter in carrying that which has entrusted itself to him.

“Thank you, Aether,” he whispers. “I know that after all I did…” Trailing off, he carefully strokes his whole hand down Aether’s nape— and Aether shivers, looking up at him with those beautiful, star-gilded eyes.

“I forgive you, Xiao, for everything,” Aether says, and the words ring out like a gong, judgment, sentence, and absolution all in one. “I only hope you’ll be able to do the same. For me… and for yourself.”

And Xiao may not have the will to make such a promise, but when Aether grasps his hand and presses a kiss to his palm, it feels like an oath to outlast even the greatest of Lord Rex’s contracts.

 

-*-

 

They leave the room hand-in-hand, ready to join the others as Lord Rex had requested, and Aether leads the way out— proof of his freedom from the last of Xiao’s commands.

But though Aether seems excited to move on, Xiao cannot help the sudden fear that leadens his own steps. The other humans and divines of the palace had surely been furious when Xiao had returned with Aether in such a terrible state, and it had only been by Lord Rex’s interference that he had been allowed to pass. Even though Aether is healed now, vibrant with life, Xiao must still endure whatever punishment the others have waiting for him.

Still, he may at least take comfort in Aether’s recovery, the knowledge that he had been able to right the worst of his wrongs.

Aether pushes open the door to the main hall, and the faint chatter from within ceases instantly, all eyes turning straight toward them as Xiao bends his head and follows Aether in.

“Aether!” A chorus of voices cry, and Xiao hastily backs away as a small crowd descends upon Aether in a noisy, flailing mass. Aether goes down with them, laughing, and Xiao find himself immeasurably grateful that it is not him they have chosen as the target of their attention. Not yet, at least.

Chongyun, Xingqiu, Ganyu, and Barbatos end up piled on the floor around Aether with Shenhe standing guard-like above them, so Xiao edges over to the quieter space beside Lord Rex. An eighth presence tickles at his senses as well, but it takes him a moment to remember Childe, still asleep in one of the rooms down the hall.

“Are… are they angry?” Xiao asks, far more timidly than he had intended, but it cannot be taken back now. Lord Rex glances down, his aura blinding with the strength of divine joy.

“I presume you are not asking of their feelings toward Aether,” he says gently.

“…No.”

“You have healed what was hurt, Xiao, and your bond would not be so strong and clear if Aether still held any grudge against you for it. The others feared for Aether’s sake, yes, but forgiveness and understanding are also part of who they are. None of them will lay a hand on you.”

Xiao twists his fingers together, an unmistakable tell of uncertainty that, under Lord Rex’s rule, he is now permitted to show. “But… surely I don’t deserve…”

“If every mistake was worthy of punishment, there would be none left in this world either to give or receive it, mortals and gods alike.” Lord Rex shakes his head slowly. “However, I have come to understand that when considering the wounded and the wounder, it is not the latter who decides what they deserve, now is it?”

Xiao stares at him, but Lord Rex merely smiles and returns his attention to Aether and the others still piled on the floor before him.

“Ahh, now this is the bond I saw that first day,” a voice at Xiao’s side says brightly, and he jumps.

“Don’t worry, it’s just me,” Barbatos giggles, patting him on the shoulder, and it’s all Xiao can do not to edge away. “It was so torn up earlier, I was really starting to wonder… but anyway, I’m glad to see you made things right with your Heart! You got a good one, so you’ll definitely want to keep him.”

“That is not up to me,” Xiao says stiffly, and Barbatos studies him for a moment before something in his face eases.

“Of course not. But you’re still allowed to ask him to stay, you know.”

Xiao has nothing to say in response— as he always seems to when talking to the flighty god of anemo— but fortunately, Barbatos does not seem particularly offended by his silence.

“Xiao!” Aether calls out then, one hand waving him over. “Will you come help me prove to everyone that we’re both alright? It’s taking too long to convince them.”

Reluctance wars with inevitability, and Xiao slowly pads over to Aether’s side, careful to avoid the suddenly piercing gazes that surround them. From his place cross-legged on the ground, Aether loosely wraps an arm around Xiao’s calf, and it takes all of Xiao’s restraint not to flinch away when Aether’s cheek presses submissively against his thigh— in full view of everyone else in the room.

It is one thing for Xiao to appear subservient, but for Aether, the master of his Heart, to so lower himself beyond what is necessary for his safety… surely this cannot be right. And yet, when Xiao dares to look around, the wide, curious eyes of the others seem to tell of nothing more than mild surprise. Even in their auras, Xiao can sense no anger. No disgust.

Xiao hesitantly lowers his hand to Aether’s hair.

“See?” Aether says. “We’re fine.”

Chongyun sniffs, and now Xiao can see the way his eyes are glimmering wetly. “Promise you won’t ever do this to us again. You said you’d be back soon, and then I woke up and everyone was panicking because you were gone…”

“I really am sorry for that,” Aether murmurs. “I should’ve known things wouldn’t go so smoothly.”

“Well, we’re glad you made it back safely,” Ganyu says, her gaze flickering up to Xiao, then away again after a small nod.

It is not a kind gesture, but Xiao nevertheless finds he can breathe a little easier. She has acknowledged his efforts in undoing the mistakes he had made, is giving him another chance to walk among the rest of the group and earn their forgiveness.

“I may not have much power compared to you, Vigilant Yaksha,” Xingqiu says then, his narrow gaze also falling away. “But if you ever hurt Aether like this again, I won’t hesitate to use whatever I have to protect him.”

Indeed, now that his body and powers are fully restored, Xiao could destroy this human in an instant, if such a thing were not the antithesis of his contract with Lord Rex. But even if the contract did not exist, Xingqiu has become quietly irreplaceable to him, and Xiao would see his own blood spilled long before cutting so much as a hair from the boy’s head.

“I… will hold you to your promise,” Xiao murmurs, and the hard line of Xingqiu’s shoulders melts away.

Shenhe, too, seems satisfied by his words, and she turns away as the others begin to climb to their feet again. Xiao blinks. Is it… over? Is that all they wish to say?

“I suppose we shouldn’t smother you two any longer,” Ganyu says with a smile, “and Lord Rex has commanded that we stay away from the harbor today in order to properly rest, so please don’t worry about that.” She inclines her head to them, then brings an icy spark to her hand. “Shenhe, what would you say to a spar? It has been quite some time since we last met with Cloud Retainer, and I’d like to see how far your training has come.”

Shenhe pauses mid-step, a flutter of interest passing over her otherwise cold expression. “…It has been many years. Will you teach me to use a bow this time? Cloud Retainer never did.”

“Oh! You still remember that old promise?” Ganyu clasps her hands together as she falls into step beside Shenhe and they make their way to the door. “Now that you’re tall enough to hold it, of course I will! And I hope you will teach me some of your spearwork as well.”

Xiao returns his attention to Aether as their voices fade away in time to catch Aether’s thoughtful hum.

“Now that would be a fight to see. Chongyun, will you go watch them?”

“…I’d like to, but I’m afraid that if I see their training, I’ll want to join in,” Chongyun says reluctantly. “I’m— I’m just going to rest today. I promised Xingqiu, so…”

“Also a good plan,” Aether nods. “Between learning to use your Vision, the attack on the harbor, and Childe’s exorcism… you deserve a break. And Xingqiu too, of course.” His gaze dips down a little, and Xiao follows it to where Xingqiu’s fingers are twined with Chongyun’s.

“What will you and Xiao do?”

“Well… first I’d like to check in on our resident harbinger… or ex-harbinger now, I suppose,” Aether muses. “Has his condition changed any since I left last night?”

“As far as I know, he’s just been sleeping off the exorcism. But, um, Rex Lapis is the only one who’s visited him so far, so maybe…?”

“I’ll ask him. Thanks, Chongyun.”

Slowly, Aether tucks his feet beneath himself and rises, leaning easily into Xiao’s side as he goes. The moment he stands up straight though, some paper-thin barrier shatters, and the last cautious touch Xiao had laid over Aether’s will slips away. He is in control no longer, and a strange tangle of relief and longing rises in its place.

“Shall we go?”

 

They find Lord Rex speaking with Barbatos a short distance beyond the door to the main hall, their lowered voices suggesting unease and their tense expressions sparking fear deep in Xiao’s chest.

“…thought was just remnants of the Vortex or their fractured bond, but I still feel it, even now that things have calmed down and they’ve recovered,” Barbatos is saying, Xiao’s keen ears only just able to catch the words.

“I will be sure to keep watch, then. It’s time I review the condition of the seals regardless, after the destruction wrought by Osial.” Lord Rex sighs. He raises his voice to its usual rumble as Xiao and Aether draw nearer. “I am glad to see you up and well again, Aether. Have you finished reassuring the others?”

“For now,” Aether says cheerfully. Then he pauses. “I don’t mean to pry too much, but… is there something wrong? You and Venti seem unusually serious.”

“That…” Lord Rex’s eyes slip shut, then open again. “The earth has been unsettled since we returned from Liyue Harbor, and I must determine the cause. But as of now, there is no need to be concerned over it— nor would this problem fall to you to solve even if it were urgent.”

“We just didn’t notice until now because the mess you and Xiao made of your bond really obscured everything,” Barbatos says lightly. “But I’ll be helping ol’ Morax out too, so don’t you worry.”

“…I see.” Aether taps the backs of his fingers against his chin for a moment. Then the corner of his mouth twitches up. “Well, if you insist, I suppose I can trust the two oldest and strongest Archons of this world for a little while.”

“See, Zhongli? This is the kind of respect we get from our people these days. Unbelievable.” Barbatos shakes his head in overexaggerated strokes, and Xiao forces himself to relax. This is nothing more than play between equals. Aether is in no danger.

As if to prove it, Lord Rex laughs, a gentle sound. “Thank you, Aether. I imagine you didn’t come just to ask after our conversation, however. Is there something you needed from Venti or myself?”

“Ah, I just wanted to ask about Childe. Is he doing alright?”

Lord Rex’s humor fades, just a fraction. “…I have only gone to see him once since you finished the exorcism, in order to determine the cause of the horn you described to me. It seems that it was born of a combination of the demon’s ability to alter his body and the adeptal energy he had absorbed from my claim, made permanent when the demon was burned away and my power filled the empty space. I will… offer to remove it for him when he awakes, if he so wishes.”

“…Would that be a bad thing?” Aether asks quietly.

“The cutting of it would hurt, though I would do my best to reduce any such pain. My hesitance is merely at the thought of erasing the unexpected proof that Childe has been so strongly touched by my claim— but given the circumstances, I have no say in the matter.” Lord Rex bends his head. “Well. Perhaps a visit from you will convince him to wake.”

“You sad, clingy old dragon,” Barbatos sighs, rising on his toes to pat Lord Rex’s shoulder— but though his words are disrespectful, they carry no particular bite.

 

They part from the archons there, and Aether is quiet as they make their way to the room Lord Rex had indicated. No doubt he is pondering Childe’s fate, and Xiao, too, wonders what Lord Rex will do if the mortal he has claimed continues to reject him. Xiao had not bothered to investigate Childe’s condition since Aether and Chongyun had finished cleansing him— but it seems unlikely that the mortal’s thoughts on Lord Rex’s claiming would have changed in the short time since he had done his best to attack the Geo Archon in his own palace.

The door to the guest room opens with an unhappy creak when Aether pushes at it, and Xiao warily follows him into the shadows that lie beyond. There is just enough light for Xiao’s eyes, and where Aether pauses uncertainly, Xiao can see Childe’s hunched-over form in bed, head bent and face obscured as his hands grasp at the spiral horn protruding from his forehead.

Childe’s breaths are also coming short and fast, an achingly familiar sound of fear, and Aether latches onto Xiao’s forearm with a soft murmur of concern. They approach slowly, and Childe’s head twists just far enough to look at them, his eyes over-wide and glinting with something wild.

Xiao falls still. This is not the mortal he had observed the first time, capable and commanding, nor is it the mortal who had walked away from his fight with Lord Rex, bloodied and betrayed and smiling, nor even the mortal who had screamed and spat and been overtaken by the corruption bubbling inside him. The man before him now is… afraid. And by the coiling layers of pitch in his aura, is afraid of that very fear.

Childe has been broken down to almost nothing, Xiao realizes. Home, family, and Archon; freedom and purpose; Vision, body, and strength; even the demon who must have been a part of him for years— all gone, or at least out of his grasp. This moment will require a gentleness Xiao is not so sure he can summon.

“…Childe,” Xiao says carefully, and those bright, bright eyes blink at him.

Slowly, Xiao opens his hand and allows a spirit fire to flicker to life in his palm, burning away the thick darkness of the room. Colors spill over in the sudden light—copper and deep blue from Childe’s hair and squinting gaze, the rich cream of the bed, and the shimmer of red silk and gold as Aether moves.

“Oh, Childe,” Aether murmurs, painfully gentle, and he leaves Xiao’s side to tug Childe’s hands away from their trembling grip on his horn and tenderly unfold the clenched fingers. “You’re alright. Everything is alright.”

Childe exhales a harsh breath, then another, and he grasps weakly at Aether’s arms. “I don’t… what’s wrong with me?”

“You’re healing,” Aether whispers even as he firmly pushes Childe back down against the pillows and smooths out the blankets that cover him. “I’m sorry we left you to wake up alone.”

“…Doesn’t— doesn’t feel like healing.”

“I doubt it would.” Aether’s laugh is more of a sigh. “I… I can’t say your problems are over yet, but you don’t have to worry about them now if you don’t want to.”

Childe is silent for a moment. “Just tell me about this,” he says, reaching again for his horn. “Do you know what… when…?”

“…That grew in as Chongyun and I were attempting your exorcism, though I assume you didn’t notice until now. Zhongli says it was the result of both his and the demon’s powers, but it stuck around even after the demon was gone. You… might even be something resembling an adeptus now, thanks to Zhongli’s claim,” Aether says delicately.

“Oh.” Then— “Is there any way to… can I get rid of it somehow? I can’t be like this if ever see my family again— I mean, if Morax lets me go—"

Aether catches Childe’s hand again and brings it back down to the sheets. “Zhongli offered to remove it for you once you’re strong enough for him to do it safely. Relax. We’re here to help you, not make you suffer more.”

“Okay. Sure. Alright,” Childe mutters almost under his breath, and he doesn’t fight when Aether lays a hand over his eyes.

“I know you’ve already slept quite a bit, but you probably shouldn’t be up and about just yet.” Aether says, standing up straight again and brushing himself off. “Let’s see… is there some way we could get better light in here? Aside from blasting a hole all the way across the hall to let in some sun, of course.”

It does seem as though the mortal would fare better under a warm, steady light than this current shroud of darkness or Xiao’s cold spirit flame. An unobtrusive hum of power leads Xiao to a geo lantern set into the opposite wall, and a simple touch brings it to life. Its soft glow reveals the glossy woodwork of furniture and muted colors of the art Lord Rex had chosen as décor, but although the room is rich— as befitting of the God of Wealth— there are no signs of any personal touch within. And why would there be, when this room has lain empty for years, or perhaps even centuries?

“Is there… anything else you would like?” Xiao asks stiffly, and Childe gives him an uncomprehending look.

“For the room,” Aether mercifully clarifies. “Since you’ll likely be staying here for a while.”

“Oh. Huh.” Childe blinks. “Can’t think of anything now… but hey, I’ll try to reign in my expensive taste if I do think of something.” The sudden lilt to his voice and tick of his lips leaves Xiao wearier than he’d expected.

As if Barbatos’s teasing words and vexing behaviors weren’t already enough for him to contend with. How can Lord Rex stand this mortal?

Notes:

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Chapter 44: Contemplation

Notes:

5000? 5000 kudos?? 5000 people who've clicked on this fic and decided they like it????? 5000 OF YOU????????

TW: Tiny mention of child(e) neglect?

Childe seems much calmer by the time he finishes off the bowl of leftover congee and entire pot of tea Xiao had brought for him, but Aether doesn’t move from his seat beside the bed. Or rather, he can’t move, not when Childe’s hand keeps sneaking out to brush over his arm every few minutes, as if to make sure Aether is still there. Still real.

If Aether had to guess, he’d say that the movements are mostly subconscious— and as far as he’s concerned, it would be downright cruel to stop Childe from taking that small, harmless bit of comfort. So, while they wait for Childe to be up to the task of getting out of bed, he talks to keep them both distracted.

 

“We end up spending a lot of time training,” he admits in response to Childe’s skeptical question of ‘what they all do out here in the wilderness?’

“Chongyun still hasn't quite figured out that nobody expects him to be constantly improving, but since we don't want to leave him unsupervised on the practice field…. It's not really a bad thing, though. We have some of the oldest remaining adepti around to teach us, so might as well take advantage." Aether eyes Childe as subtly as he can, searching for any sign of interest— but Childe's expression remains blank.

"Other than that, we take turns cooking, usually, and Zhongli’s power conveniently keeps most of the palace clean… there’s also a pretty much bottomless collection of books and games and such in his study. I still put my tea ceremony skills to use when there’s enough time for it. Oh, and there’s Zhongli’s garden and a few trails around the mountain if you ever want to relax outside.”

Aether pauses. “Is that most of it, Xiao?”

Xiao swivels to blink at him from where he’s sitting unobtrusively in a chair at Aether’s other side, his back half-turned to Childe. “…Ganyu and I also have our duties to Liyue, and all but Aether and Lord Barbatos are sworn to Lord Rex’s commands. But aside from the battle in the city, there have been few duties for us as of late.”

Childe hums in acknowledgement. “Sounds nice. And also incredibly boring.”

“Maybe to you,” Aether laughs, tangling his fingers with Xiao’s and embracing the rush that comes with the spark of their restored bond. “But when you've suffered enough to last a hundred lifetimes over, I don't think it's unusual to want some stability. Although… trouble keeps on finding us anyway, so does it really matter?” He slants a narrow stare at Childe, and Childe’s gaze promptly drifts up and away.

“Wow, that sure is weird, huh?” Childe says to the ceiling. Then he droops. “Shit. This is my real punishment, isn’t it? Morax doesn’t want to fight, so he’ll just kill me with too much peace instead.”

“It’s not that bad,” Aether sighs, but he keeps still when Childe’s fingers trace over his forearm. Skitter away again.

“…What am I supposed to do now, Aether?”

And Aether pauses, careful. “Do you… want something to do?”

“…I don’t know,” Childe says hoarsely. “I’ve never… never been this useless before. Even when I still lived at home, there were always the babies to take care of or chores to do, and once I fell into that rift…” His eyes rapidly grow dark, and Aether suppresses the urge to reach out and hug him. “Well. I never really stopped moving after that, and after my dad convinced everyone I’d be better off with the Fatui, I did everything I could to reach the top. There was no other choice. I had to keep fighting.”

Childe’s own family had sent him off to the military? And at what Aether can guess was far too young of an age? Perhaps it would have been the best option his family could think of if Childe had suddenly become host to a demon, but then— it still seems strange that he had been so adamant about Zhongli bringing them out of Snezhnaya upon his expulsion from the Fatui. There must be more to the story.

“We might not be very busy right now, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things you could do to help out around the palace or… serve Zhongli.” Aether grimaces at his own words. “Anyway, nobody’s going to keep you locked up in here while you finish your recovery.”

Serve Zhongli, Childe mouths, his expression twisting. “What would Morax want from me, exactly?”

Memories of the terrible things Childe had screamed at Zhongli just before trying to attack him flash through Aether’s mind, and he answers promptly. “You could assist with administration, like Ganyu, or the defense of the harbor like Xiao. There is currently no designated caretaker for the palace, so you could take charge of those tasks for as long as your punishment lasts. In fact, your existence itself is valuable here, because as far as I can tell, Zhongli simply enjoys seeing this place filled with life.”

Aether takes a deep breath. “He will never demand that you be his companion in any way beyond the claim that already exists. And if he does, tell any of the rest of us, and we’ll stop him.” Xiao’s grip on his hand tightens for a moment, then relaxes. Unspoken agreement.

“Stop the Geo Archon?” Childe repeats bitterly, but it no longer seems as though a single touch would shatter his rigid body. Slowly, he reaches up to drag his palm across the back of his neck, where a faint shimmer of amber can be seen. “What is this thing, anyway? No one’s given me a straight answer yet.” Again, his rough fingertips brush over Aether’s arm.

“Well…” Aether starts hesitantly. “To be honest, I’m not sure either, but it sounds something like the bond I share with Xiao…?”

“It means you have received Lord Rex’s favor,” Xiao says abruptly, and Childe’s attention snaps to him. “A claim is rarely invoked outside of an Archon’s most loyal servants because it binds the two together in thought and power. You will desire to be near Lord Rex, and he will feel the same. It is considered the greatest of honors for a mortal, but is often also the greatest of weaknesses for a god, when each is compelled to protect the other at any cost.” He frowns. “I admit I do not understand how the Cryo Archon gave her mark to you without any such effects.”

Childe stares at Xiao with a strange expression. “…Her Majesty only gave her Harbingers the mark so we could have the power to use Delusions. It was never… never this. What did Morax do differently?”

Xiao tilts his head a fraction, clearly studying something about Childe— exactly what he’s searching for though, Aether isn’t as sure. “Perhaps the intensity is due to Lord Rex’s desire for you while making the claim, or perhaps it is the effect of having a Vision so deeply intertwined with his element. Regardless, it cannot be changed now. Human bodies rarely survive the loss of divine power once it has become a part of them.”

“So— what, I’m just destined to follow Morax around like an obedient little pet for the rest of my life? Can he read my mind? Control my Vision?” Childe laughs, loud and sharp. “How much of me is even me anymore?”

“Your existence is entirely your own,” Xiao says, slow in a way that implies it should be obvious. “Your life is not tied to Lord Rex’s as mine is to Aether’s, your mind and Vision can only be touched if you allow it first, and as long as you can endure the discomfort of being apart from your Archon, you may walk away whenever you wish.”

“Once the punishment is over, that is,” Aether murmurs. “But if you really want, we can figure out a way for you to keep Zhongli at a distance.”

Childe sits in silence for a moment, and suddenly he seems very small against the mountain of pillows at his back. “Why are you both helping me like this? Shouldn’t you be on Morax’s side?”

This time, when his fingers reach for Aether’s arm, Aether catches them, then gently covers Childe’s hand with his own. “I’m helping you because I know you outside of my connection with Zhongli, and also because Zhongli sometimes does stupid things like claim people without warning or permission and lock them up in his palace without explaining anything to them. And Xiao…”

“You have scars like mine,” Xiao says stiffly. “I have no desire to see you collect any more.”

It’s an even softer response than Aether had been expecting, and after a stunned moment, he sends a flood of affection through the bond, basking in the echoes of Xiao’s pleasure in return.

“To put it another way, Zhongli brought you here to atone, not suffer. It would be pretty ridiculous if we just left you alone and gave you more reasons to resent us and Liyue as a whole,” Aether says bluntly.

Childe exhales a rough mimicry of a laugh. “…Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” Bringing his hands up to his lap, he stares into his empty palms. “Hey, Aether… would you happen to know where my Vision is? I can’t remember— well, I don’t remember much of anything after Morax woke me up and tried to convince me to sleep in his bed.” He grimaces.

Aether has no idea, but—

“Drawer,” Xiao says, his head tipped to the side as if listening for something, and sure enough, yanking open the top drawer of the bedside table reveals Childe’s Vision, now stripped of its scratched, tarnished Snezhnayan frame.

Aether scoops it out, instinctively closing his fingers around its feeble glow as it chills his skin. It’s a familiar sensation, and it takes a moment for him to remember how Chongyun’s Vision had faded after it had been rejected by its master.

“Are you sure?”

Childe wiggles his fingers insistently, so Aether has no choice but to drop the patchwork jewel into his waiting hands.

For a while, Childe just stares at it, an unreadable expression on his face as he rolls it to one palm and jabs at it, light scattering colorfully across his skin. “It sure is ugly, isn’t it?” He murmurs, and Aether isn’t quite sure what to say in response. The moment feels too fragile to interrupt.

“Alright.”

“…Alright?” Aether repeats hesitantly.

“Yeah. There’s no point in putting it off any longer,” Childe sighs. “If there was something Morax wanted to tell me face-to-face… I’m ready.”

 

-*-

 

They end up helping Childe out of bed and over to one of the opulent tearooms in the next wing, if only to keep his meeting with Zhongli on more neutral ground. Childe paces up and down the length of the table in the center, quoting a need to shake off his bedrest and refusing to sit despite his slow, unsteady gait.

It really would be better for his body if he picked a more comfortable position, but Aether bites his tongue and silently begs Xiao to follow suit. If Childe doesn’t want to be below Zhongli for this conversation, physically or otherwise, they have no right to deny him.

“Would you like us to stay, or…?” Aether asks as Xiao closes his eyes to wordlessly call for Zhongli’s attention.

Childe pauses mid-step. “…I’d really prefer not to have an audience for this.” Then his face darkens, fingers lifting to his new horn and scratching down one of the grooves. “Then again, I’m not sure I trust Morax not to try something else while I can’t stop him myself.”

Aether winces. “We’ll wait outside, then. Xiao should be able to sense if you need help.” And without waiting for a reply, he practically throws himself out the door, Xiao close on his heels, to meet the pulse of deep gold materializing in the hall just beyond.

Zhongli is wearing his mortal vessel, suit and all, when he steps from the shimmer he’s made in the air, and Aether hastily throws out an arm to stop him from just walking into the room.

“…Aether?” Zhongli asks sharply, anxiety rolling off him waves so strong, Aether can almost taste them. “Did you not call me for—”

“We did,” Aether interrupts quickly, “but you need to calm down first.” He gently nudges Xiao’s bowed, faintly trembling form behind his own body. “Also, I don’t think it would be a good idea to go in looking like that.”

After a frozen moment, Zhongli exhales, long and slow, and the oppressive weight of his divinity lifts from Aether’s chest. “Why? Would this not be the vessel most familiar to him?”

“It… would. But that’s the problem,” Aether says carefully. “To Childe, at least, you’re not familiar anymore, and somehow I don’t think he’d take kindly to your pretending that nothing has changed.”

Zhongli’s brows draw together thunderously, and the whole mountain quakes with the movement. “I have no wish to appear to him as an Archon. As his captor.”

Unexpectedly, it is Xiao who speaks while Aether is still recovering his balance.

“If— if I may, Lord Rex… I do not know Childe’s mind, but you are his master now, just as you are mine. It would not be wrong to treat him as such.”

“But you were prepared for a life bound by contract. Childe is not.”

Xiao is silent for a moment. “…No. But as you had said, Lord Rex, his scars match those on my skin. I recognize his eyes.” Then he bows his head and leaves it down, a clear end to his part in the conversation.

“Just— be careful with him, Zhongli,” Aether says softly, and he falls into step beside Xiao so they can settle down a short ways down the hall.

With slow, ponderous movements, Zhongli’s gaze drags away from them— and his form shimmers, branching horns sprouting from his hair, tail falling to swish over the floor, and suit shifting and loosening to become a hanfu of rich golds and browns. The moment his transformation is finished, he turns to push open the door to the tearoom, and the clack of it falling shut behind him is loud in the stillness.

Then there’s nothing to do but wait.

“Can you hear what they’re saying, Xiao?” Aether asks, halfway between guilt and a need to know what he should be bracing for next.

Xiao looks at him, piercing. “…I can. Would you like to know?”

Guilt wins out. “I— no, not right now, at least. Childe will call if he needs us, right?”

Tentatively, Aether rests his head on Xiao’s shoulder, then leans in more when Xiao only shifts up slightly to ease the angle of his neck. Calm spills over the bond like clear water, and Aether closes his eyes with a sigh when Xiao’s head slowly drops to meet his. He is wanted. Full. Loved, he thinks— even if they have yet to confirm it aloud.

This close, Xiao smells good, like mountain breezes and the faint tang of steel. Aether breathes in deep, able to appreciate it now that they are finally both healthy and clear of mind, and Xiao dips his nose into Aether’s hair in return.

It’s strange to feel so settled, especially right after what Aether remembers to be a decidedly painful experience. Even at the peak of his power and with Lumine at his side, recovery had not always been so swift. But this time, he’d had Xiao’s hands on his skin— overwhelming power momentarily tamed for his sake— there had a been a low, sweet voice to banish the whispers from his mind, and he had been allowed to simply fall, knowing that Xiao would be there to catch him.

Aether is still tired, of course, still feels that seemingly endless chill of night in his bones if his thoughts wander too far, but those things seem inconsequential in the face of the nightmare that could have been. The hell he would have endured if Xiao had run from his own mistake.

But Xiao had not run. And in a way, this might be the strongest they’ve ever been.

“…You came to ask me something,” Xiao says into the peaceful silence, his breath warm over Aether’s scalp. “When you found me at Mount Tianheng.”

“Ah. Yes.”

“I am— I will listen now. I swear it.” Xiao withdraws to settle on his knees just a half-step away from Aether, body hunched into something resembling a bow. The blind apology isn’t pleasant to watch, but at least he no longer lays himself prostrate on the floor.

Aether takes a slow breath. “We need to talk about how we will handle battles together from here on out.”

“Yes,” Xiao says, subdued.

“I don’t want to get hurt any more than you want to see me that way… but it matters more to me that you don’t have to keep fighting alone. Because I may not be able to stop your pain, but I refuse to helplessly stand back and watch when I know I can help you.”

“I— I understand.”

Xiao’s gaze is fixed upon the floor, but aside from the slight tensing of his clasped hands, he no longer seems inclined to put up a fight.

“When I chased after you, I’d planned to suggest that I join you for your duties in stages,” Aether says carefully. “I’m more than strong enough to protect myself in a fight now, so I thought I would join you for easier tasks while you continue teaching me how to use the powers I’m borrowing. And… if Chongyun agrees to show me his exorcism techniques, then you won’t have to worry about me even if we run into something as bad as a demon. At least, that’s what I hope…”

Xiao scratches at the floorboards with one long nail. “Demons and shades often arrive without warning, even in eras of peace. And with Osial’s unsealing, there will only be more darkness lingering in the cracks across the land.”

“Then tell me— no, command me to run,” Aether says in a rush of inspiration. “You have that power, and I— I trust you to wield it. I can also promise that I’ll follow your lead when it comes to battle, but if you need the extra reassurance… you have it.”

“I will never command you again,” Xiao says sharply, and Aether holds his breath.

“And… if I want you to?”

Golden eyes snap up, burning into Aether’s own gaze.

“Not to hurt me, obviously, but… sometimes it’s nice to let go, right?” Aether continues a little pleadingly. “To enjoy the quiet.” He had certainly found peace with Xiao’s warm hand on his nape and the knowledge that nothing would have been allowed to lay so much as a scratch on him during those slow, hazy hours at Xiao’s feet.

Xiao slumps. “…I will beg Lord Rex to give you a blessing of protection. And if you are ever wounded… please…”

“I’ll come to you right away,” Aether promises instantly. “Or seek out whoever else might be able to heal me. I swear I won’t try to fight with any injury that could make me a liability in battle.”

“Chongyun is strong, but his knowledge of exorcisms is incomplete. I will teach you as well,” Xiao continues.

“I look forward to it.”

“And never risk yourself for me.”

“But—”

“I am aware it matters little, should one of us fall,” Xiao interrupts— bitterly, Aether thinks. “Even so. Sacrifice… I have seen more than enough of it.”

Aether very nearly says he can’t promise something like that, but the way Xiao had said it…

“Who… who else have you lost?” He asks quietly.

“…I am the last of the five great yaksha,” Xiao says, and a heavy silence settles in the wake of his words.

Slowly, tentatively, Aether reaches out, and Xiao tips his cheek into Aether’s palm with nothing more than a soft, aching sound. And oh, oh, it hurts, like fire and silver and wasting away. With a twitch of his fingers, Aether guides Xiao in closer, closer, until they can rest upon each other’s shoulders once again.

“I— I am sorry, Aether,” Xiao whispers, and Aether stokes through his hair with a wordless murmur of reassurance.

“Thank you for giving me a chance.”

 

--

 

Their peace is interrupted when Xiao suddenly tenses, and a moment later, Childe’s yell pierces determinedly through the walls and straight into Aether’s ears.

“Just cut it off, then!”

Aether shares a fleeting look with Xiao, and then they’re both on their feet and bursting into the room before Zhongli even begins his reply.

Childe and Zhongli are standing on opposite sides of the tea table, Childe heavily bracing himself upon it, and his patchwork Vision wobbling at the center. When Aether and Xiao step inside, Childe wheels about immediately, and Aether takes a moment to analyze the horn still attached to his forehead, then the pleading look on Zhongli’s face.

“Aether! Maybe you’ll be able to convince him.”

Childe doesn’t seem injured, cowed, or unnaturally violent at the moment, so Aether pauses, forcing his tense body to relax. “…What’s the argument?”

“I asked about my family, and Morax said everyone but my father has been moved to a house just outside of Liyue, which is fine, whatever. As long as they’re taken care of. Then I said I wanted to see them, and he agreed to that, but obviously I can’t look like— like this”— he gestures at his face— “when I visit.”

“There is nothing wrong with your appearance—” Zhongli starts, but Childe interrupts him.

“Yeah, yeah, of course you’d think that, but my family already sees me as monster enough. I don’t need to give another reason to wonder,” he spits, turning back to Aether. “Anyway, I told him I didn’t care if he cut the damn horn off or not, just so long as my family never sees it, and right away, he switched to insisting that I learn some kind of— fancy illusion magic—”

“Adeptal concealment,” Xiao says passively.

Childe stops to stare at Xiao with narrowed eyes for a moment before apparently deciding there was no ill-intent. “Yeah. That. But apparently it means I have to use his power, and there’s no way I’m going to do that.”

“Childe,” Zhongli says, sounding pained. “I understand your reluctance, but the very core of your power is now intertwined with hydro and geo. You will never be able to use one without also embracing the other.”

“Then I guess I’ll just never use my Vision again.”

“That would be unwise. Repression of such things is impossible for humans, and—”

Now it’s Aether who finds himself interrupting. “You remember Chongyun?” He says directly to Childe.

“…Obviously.”

“Well, he spent his entire life pretending his Vision didn’t exist because his clan shunned him for having it. His power overflowed, he spent most of his time just trying to hold it back, and eventually, it almost killed him. Even now, he’s still learning how to properly control it.” Aether levels Childe with a stare.

“…So you don’t want me to die, is that it?”

“Obviously,” Aether echoes back.

Childe picks up his Vision. Drops it again with a painful crack of crystal on decorative marble.

“Fine. For my family. And you.”

Zhongli’s sudden exhale is audible in the stillness. “It will not take long to rekindle your Vision, I promise.”

“It better not,” Childe mutters, then shies away when Zhongli extends a hand to him. “Why?”

“I will need to touch you in order to most efficiently shift your elemental flow,” Zhongli explains, voice cautious. “Meanwhile, you must meditate and focus on bringing those elements to the surface in whatever way is most familiar to you. The specific technique required for adeptal concealment can always be taught later.”

Childe’s expression pinches. “I can’t meditate.”

“…I may not be able to leave this room while you are adjusting to the use of two elements, but I would never disturb your—”

“It’s not that. I literally can’t do it. Plenty of people have tried to make me practice it before, and I just can’t sit still and ‘push all my thoughts beneath the surface’ or whatever it is you’re supposed to do,” Childe huffs. “Besides, it was always too loud in my head to focus before.”

“Ah.” Zhongli settles back, pondering. “Then perhaps a form of meditation used by the younger, more restless adepti will work for you.”

With broad, predictable movements, he hands Childe his Vision, then lifts the marble-topped table in the middle of the room and delicately carries it to a far corner. Then he returns to Childe, who is watching him warily, and holds out his hands again. “Do you know how to dance?”

“Do I look like some kind of pampered dvoryanin to you?”

Zhongli sighs. “Dedication to art is not a weakness. But very well. Sparring, at least, should not be outside your abilities.”

Childe’s eyes grow wide, and Aether finally realizes exactly what it is Zhongli is intending.

“…You’re going to fight me?”

Zhongli shakes his head. “Rather than a fight, it would be best for you to view this as a… distraction, perhaps. A different way for you to meditate.”

He pauses to shed the outermost layers of his hanfu, exposing the stone-colored skin and gold patterns of his arms. “It would be best for you to free at least your hands and forearms.”

Childe stands frozen for a long moment, staring, before slowly shedding the long-sleeved part of his own robes. “This isn’t some kind of sick punishment for trying to attack you and Chongyun earlier, is it?”

“Not at all,” Zhongli says softly. “Now come, strike me. I will follow your lead.”

Aether goes with the short tug on his sleeve as Xiao pulls him back toward the wall and out of the unspoken boundaries of the spar. He’s never seen Zhongli fight hand-to-hand before— technically hasn’t seen Childe in action either—so this will probably be something worth watching.

He’s proven correct from the moment Childe first moves, stepping in with an obvious, reluctant punch to Zhongli’s throat, which Zhongli of course blocks. His fingers close gently around Childe’s wrist, redirecting the force of the strike, and he pulls Childe’s whole body smoothly past him as familiar lines of gold streak up Childe’s captured arm. Childe’s breath hitches audibly, and then he’s swinging around with an elbow toward the small of Zhongli’s back, movements suddenly far stronger.

The fight only speeds up from there, and Aether watches intently as Zhongli and Childe dodge and block and strike, flowing around each other like water. Patterns of gold flicker constantly beneath Childe’s skin now, and whatever Zhongli is doing seems to be restoring his body, because each motion is faster, each step surer every time they clash in the middle.

No words are spoken between them, and even the usual sounds and yells of combat have been reduced to nothing more than Childe’s harsh breaths and the impact of flesh on flesh. The faintest of smiles has settled over Zhongli’s face, but far more noticeable is the rising light in Childe’s eyes, a spark of focus, of life. If it still matters to him that he’s fighting the Archon who claimed him, he doesn’t show it, and he falls further and further into the rhythm of battle Zhongli has woven around him until they almost seem to be moving as one.

Can it even be called a fight anymore when the participants only move with each other, never against?

“Good,” Zhongli murmurs as he falls precisely back under a series of Childe’s blows, and then there’s water pooling in the air, droplets whisking about in tandem with Childe’s body.

Bright geo crackles at Zhongli’s feet, and he and Childe move closer and closer together until they’re sharing the same air, the same footfalls, Childe following the distinct pattern of Zhongli’s steps.

It is a display of fantastic power, and for a moment, Aether can see how perfectly they could slot together as Archon and servant, as king and warrior, as friend and friend.

A choked noise leaves Childe’s throat when Zhongli tugs them almost forehead to forehead on the next turn, the blues of his eyes flash amber—

And Zhongli brings them both to an instant halt, his half-adeptal form towering over Childe as his hands settle firmly over the sides of Childe’s face and beneath his jaw. “Perfect, Childe. You’ve done so well, focus just a little while longer.”

Childe makes a sound akin to a whine as he writhes under Zhongli’s touch, chest still heaving, and it doesn’t seem as if he’s paying attention to much of anything. But slowly, the lines over his skin grow brighter and clearer, an adeptal seal scrawling itself down the spiral of his horn before the appendage vanishes all at once, leaving Childe’s forehead smooth and unmarked.

In the next moment, Childe’s eyes roll back and he drops like a stone, Zhongli gracefully descending with him to cradle Childe’s back and head in his arms. Soft praise that Aether doesn’t care to parse out floods from Zhongli’s mouth, and rather than intrude on the scene any longer, he turns to Xiao, chasing the thread of curiosity he can feel through the bond.

“He is stable now,” Xiao says quietly, gaze still fixed on Childe. “The claim is… it should no longer be bleeding out in his mind.”

“So quickly?” Aether murmurs, surprised. The damage he’d seen after finishing the exorcism hadn’t been pretty, after all, and though Childe’s spar with Zhongli had been intense, it wasn’t exactly long.

“He is not well,” Xiao amends, “but so long as he agrees to continue meeting Lord Rex, his earlier pain is unlikely to return.”

And that’s… well, it’s not nothing, when it comes to Childe.

Risking another glance over, Aether finds Childe just pushing his way out of Zhongli’s grasp, coming to a stop half-crouched on the floor when Zhongli lets him go. Childe lifts a hand to feel around his hairline, then drops it again, a strangely blank expression on his face.

“Will that be enough for your family?” Zhongli asks lightly, extending an open hand to Childe as he stands.

“…Yeah,” is all Childe says, and after a clear moment of hesitation, he places his hand in Zhongli’s and allows himself to be pulled upright.

The reverent joy on Zhongli’s face is almost blinding.

Notes:

Even un-demonified, Childe is still battlesexual, I don't make the rules.

Chapter 45: Dragon's Hoard

Notes:

So how about that new Golden Apple Archipelago and Shikanoin "These Hands are Rated E for Everyone" Heizou, huh?

TW: Minor reference to abuse/Liu clan

(Edit 8/4/22: Added minor details to Xiao's appearance near the end of the chapter.)

Childe takes off for his room again almost as soon as he’s finished dusting himself off, with only an oddly hunted-looking glance at Zhongli and a vague mutter about “clearing his head” before he’s out the door and away.

It’s not exactly unexpected, after what Zhongli had put him through.

Zhongli watches Childe go with blatant longing in his eyes, and Aether cautiously approaches him.

“…Was that the correct thing to do, Aether?” Zhongli asks. “I fear that I…”

“I think you’re alright. Childe wasn’t angry when he left, and that’s already a big step up from before,” Aether says lightly.

“I suppose so.”

With a heavy sigh, Zhongli trails over to the edge of the room where several chairs are lined up against the wall. There he takes a seat and, apropos of nothing, asks, “Xiao, are you by any chance feeling unwell?”

Aether turns back to watch Xiao blink at them.

“No, Lord Rex. Is there something wrong?”

Zhongli leans back and closes his eyes. “Hmm. Perhaps I will need to speak to the bard after all. It seems the Ley impurities in the land are beginning to take their toll faster than I had expected.”

Aether can’t help a frown. Something that can make Archons sick seems like a threat worth worrying about. “The ‘unsettled earth’ you mentioned before?”

“Indeed. Tomorrow, I will set out to reinforce the seals and ensure an incident like Osial’s will not occur again. Until then… perhaps I will rest.”

Zhongli has been through as much as any of the rest of them between dealing with Childe, the battle against Osial, and helping Aether and Xiao repair their bond, so Aether just nods. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your nest?”

“This will do,” Zhongli rumbles.

Aether leaves him to it. “Shall we go see how Chongyun and Xingqiu are doing?” He whispers to Xiao, and Xiao silently falls into step beside him.

 

-*-

 

The elements tremble in earnest now, and Fate watches grimly as the last thread of her mistake, rough and frayed and dull, flows over her fingers. A bright new spool waits to be woven into the tapestry of time once the damage has passed, but until it does, she can only watch and wait.

The loom clacks on, the frame falls into place. Whether the final worn thread is enough to hold her work together or not, this shall be the end.

 

-*-

 

As it turns out, Chongyun and Xingqiu have only gone as far as Zhongli’s study— and when Aether pokes his head around the corner of a shelf, squinting in the low dusk light, he finds Xingqiu lying full-bodied on top of Chongyun like some great cat perched on a stone. They’re settled on a large heap of pillows, and Chongyun, who’s stretched out on his stomach with his head and elbows hanging off the edge, looks perfectly content to be squashed there. A book is open in his hands, pages angled toward the nearest lamp, and Xingqiu is leaning over his shoulder to read it.

“Ah, welcome back, my liege,” Xingqiu says with a cheerful wave. “How was our esteemed Archon’s guest?”

“Childe is— doing better,” Aether says, flopping down on a pillow of his own and beckoning Xiao to sit beside him. “Zhongli managed to help him conceal the horn, at least.”

Chongyun’s head pops up. “Really? I almost thought he’d try to run away before accepting anything from Rex Lapis.”

“It was a bit of a surprise,” Aether admits. “But it seems like things will be better now. Meanwhile…” He turns his gaze to Xingqiu. “I see that you’re taking your promise to make Chongyun relax very seriously.”

“And why wouldn’t I?” Xingqiu says, petting over Chongyun’s hair with a soft smile that Chongyun of course can’t see.

“He won’t even let me get up to cook,” Chongyun complains. “I’m not injured, Xingqiu. Rex Lapis healed both of us already.”

“Shush and let me spoil you.”

“For once,” Chongyun mutters with unusual cheek, and Xingqiu mashes his face back down to the pillows.

“I said shush.”

Aether desperately swallows back several incredulous questions and instead turns to Xiao, who is now huddled awkwardly beside him. “Shall we try what they’re doing?”

Xiao eyes him, then Chongyun. “Suffocation?”

A burst of laughter escapes Aether’s throat, startling even himself. “No, no! I meant the cuddling.”

“Cuddling?” Chongyun and Xingqiu echo at rather different volumes, Chongyun baffled and Xingqiu suddenly bright red.

Xiao wrinkles his nose in a strangely adorable motion. “You want to lie on top of me?”

“Sure,” Aether shrugs. “If you’d prefer it that way.”

“…Very well.”

Picking his legs up to scoot deeper into the pillow nest, Xiao carefully removes the mask and flute that he still (still!) carries about, then lays down and rolls onto his stomach. Aether waits for him to nestle in comfortably before gently lowering his full weight onto Xiao’s back.

“How’s that?” He asks.

“Fine.”

Aether remains still and lax, nudging his contentment down the bond until Xiao’s muscles begin to relax and his breathing slows. Chongyun and Xingqiu also return to their book, though they are noticeably more restless than before.

It’s… nice, just having a warm, sturdy person beneath him, timing each inhale and exhale until they feel almost like a single, intertwined life.

“Hm… hey, Xingqiu?” Aether lifts his head with the sudden thought. “Were you able to speak with your father while you were still in Liyue? It has been three full days since he agreed to let you visit, even if everything that’s happened in those days was… unexpected, to say the least.”

“Father is…” Xingqiu sighs. “He attempted to stop me from leaving with Yunyun, but my aunts stepped in on my behalf, saying that I was a “hero of Liyue” and that Rex Lapis might still have some use for me. I will return tomorrow if someone is gracious enough to take me, but Father likely won’t be happy when I arrive.”

“But you’ll be safe?” Chongyun asks, loud and sudden. He’s twisted around, half-dislodging Xingqiu from his back as he searches Xingqiu’s face. “Your father wouldn’t…”

And Aether grits his teeth at the reminder of where Chongyun had been not so long ago.

“I’ll be perfectly safe, Yunyun,” Xingqiu assures him softly, apparently realizing the same thing as he presses himself firmly against Chongyun’s shoulder. “The most he’ll do is scold me for being so reckless during the battle.”

“Really?”

“I swear it. Besides, the rest of my family would not simply stand by and watch should my father somehow step out of line. Our ancestors would be ashamed.”

“Ganzhi and Bachi certainly would be,” Aether murmurs.

“See, Yunyun? And Aether is very nearly one of our ancestors himself, and you know he wouldn’t let my family do anything terrible. I’m sorry for making you worry.”

Chongyun hums and allows Xingqiu to practically nuzzle into his neck. Somehow, neither of them seems to find it strange at all.

By now, the study is too dark to read in, and even the geo lanterns on the walls only cast enough light to allow them to navigate back out to the door. Aside from some quiet pattering about when Shenhe and Ganyu had presumably returned from the training field, there is none of the expected dinner bustle outside. Childe must still be in his room, Zhongli might be asleep, and Venti… well, Venti goes where he pleases and returns when the mood strikes him, so perhaps he’s out for the night.

It seems that as far as cooking goes, they’ll have to fend for themselves.

Aether slips off Xiao’s back and hops to his feet, helping Xiao up, and they wait while Chongyun and Xingqiu drag themselves upright with matching groans.

Outside, the halls are just as dim and quiet as the study, and a thread of worry makes its first coil around Aether’s heart. It’s been a while since he’s seen the palace empty like this, without even Zhongli’s aura to blanket the pockets of stillness.

They find a pot of cold rice in the kitchen, and someone, probably Ganyu, has left a basket of chopped vegetables on the counter, which is easy enough to fry with some oil and spices into a respectable meal. Since it’s just the four of them— even Xiao accepts a small bowl of rice— nobody bothers to move into the dining hall, and with some unspoken urgency tugging at them all, they waste no time eating and cleaning up.

“Where is everyone?” Chongyun whispers as they return to the still-silent halls.

Aether glances over at Xiao, wordlessly passing the question.

“…Shenhe is with Ganyu in her room. Lord Rex is still in the wing where he fell asleep, and Lord Barbatos is… on the roof,” Xiao says, eyes unfocused. “Childe is coming toward us.”

“Aether?” Childe’s voice rings out right on cue, and he stops short when he rounds the corner and his eyes land on their little group. “Oh.”

“Is everything alright, Childe?” Aether steps forward.

“Oh, yeah, I just— I was starting to feel a little strange, and then I couldn’t find anyone when I left my room— might have gotten a bit lost as well, but see? I figured it out.”

Instinct kicks Aether’s pulse up a notch. “Feeling strange?”

Childe’s mouth twists thoughtfully. “Kinda dizzy, maybe, but I don’t feel like falling over or anything. Like I said, it’s weird.”

“Okay. Xiao?” Aether says, trying to justify the dread that’s pooling in his gut.

Xiao shakes his head slowly. He must not know what’s happening either. Which is… not good.

“We’re going to find Zhongli,” Aether decides, and he marches straight down the hall without waiting for a response.

“Hey!” Childe yells, but he apparently decides it’s not worth the fight when Xiao, Xingqiu, and Chongyun all immediately rush to catch up with Aether.

They find Zhongli exactly where Xiao had said he would be, still slumped back in the chair they’d left him in hours ago. He looks… sick, his skin pallid, the glow of his horns and arms all too faint.

Aether would bet money on Childe’s own dizziness being directly related.

“Lord Rex,” Xiao says on a sharp exhale, and Aether rushes forward.

“Zhongli? Zhongli,” he calls, grasping Zhongli by the shoulders and shaking gently. “Zhongli, wake up.”

Zhongli’s eyes slip open, and for a fleeting instant, Aether is met by a cold, unseeing amber glint, and he reflexively releases his grip. “Zhongli?”

“…Aether,” Zhongli slurs, and the terrible unsteadiness of his voice is more than enough to make Aether whip back around the others.

“Xiao, I’m sorry, but would you please go find Venti and make sure he’s not… in the same condition? And Chongyun, if you could fetch Ganyu and Shenhe?”

“Right,” Chongyun says, his face pale as he darts out of the room, and Xiao doesn’t even bother speaking as he vanishes into the shadows.

Laying a far more cautious hand back on Zhongli’s shoulder, Aether shakes him again when his eyes slip shut. “Zhongli, what happened? Can you get up?”

“I… fell asleep,” Zhongli says uncomprehendingly. “Something is wrong.”

“Yeah, no question about that,” Aether says with a laugh that scrapes his throat. “Hang on. I’m picking you up.”

It’s hard to get Zhongli up and out of the chair when he’s so much larger than Aether, even if his weight isn’t a problem— but Xingqiu won’t able to take the extra load when he’s no taller than Aether, and Childe… there’s probably no point in asking Childe to help. So Aether manages it alone and heads straight for the door with Zhongli in his arms, the other two trailing behind him.

“I’m taking Zhongli to his nest, and Xiao and Ganyu should be able to find us there. Childe, I know you don’t really want to get involved with Zhongli, but as his Claimed, if you could please stay with him at least until—”

“I’ll come,” Childe interrupts over him. “I… I’ll come,” he repeats, quieter.

Aether stops to stare at him, sees Xingqiu doing the same at his side. “…Alright. Thank you.”

The walk to Zhongli’s room is short, and the moment Aether lowers Zhongli into the nest, he is forced back by the abrupt, almost explosive transformation from man to dragon.

“Zhongli?”

“There is— corruption. No, the signs of corruption. Smoke without fire,” Zhongli says, almost too low to hear. “I will need to be cleansed.”

“Is that something I can do for you?” Aether presses urgently. Whatever’s plaguing Zhongli feels different from Xiao’s karmic debt, but if the corruptions are from approximately the same source…

“Yes. I simply need— time. Energy.”

“Alright. I’ll stay here for tonight, then.”

Footsteps in the hall draw his attention, and Aether turns to see Xiao entering the room with Venti leaning heavily on his shoulder. Just behind them, Ganyu is leading the way for Chongyun and Shenhe, and Aether blows out a breath. Good. That’s everyone.

“Venti, did you get hit with the same thing as Zhongli?”

“Ahaha, it seems so,” Venti says weakly. “There was a pulse of something— and suddenly I couldn’t get up. The winds of Liyue are screaming.”

Aether inhales. Exhales. “If you join Zhongli in the nest, I’ll sleep next to you to make sure the corruption is gone, and—”

“Wouldn’t it be better if everyone stayed?” Venti asks, already stumbling into the mess of pillows and blankets before him.

“Everyone?”

“More energy,” Zhongli rumbles. “You purified Xiao, Chongyun purified Childe and I fuel his power. Xingqiu is Chongyun’s, and Ganyu and Shenhe bear no taint. Stay.”

Slowly, Aether turns to look over their assembled group. “Well…”

“I will join, of course,” Ganyu says, and Xiao wordlessly moves to Aether’s side.

“I—I’ll stay if Rex Lapis needs me,” Chongyuns says earnestly. “Xingqiu, if you don’t want to—”

“Naturally, I will remain with you,” Xingqiu interrupts, and if anyone notices his wide eyes and slightly accelerated breath, it goes unmentioned.

“I as well,” Shenhe says, coming to hover behind Chongyun, and then it’s just Childe left standing alone by the door, his hands stiff at his sides.

“You really don’t have to, Childe,” Aether says quietly.

Childe curses under his breath and stomps forward to join them, eyeing the nest with distaste. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

There’s a chance Childe could change his mind if Aether asked again, but for Zhongli’s sake, he honestly doesn’t want to. “Right, well…”

With a low purr, Zhongli uncoils his body, flicking his tail a few times as if to coax them all into the middle of the nest and against the warm, golden wall of his scales. Venti shifts too, his clothes fading to a simple white robe as huge, gilded wings sprout from his back— wings that come to splay over the nest like a cool, thickly feathered blanket.

Aether breathes his awe at the sight, and by the gasps of the others, this is something even the adepti don’t see often.

Xiao and Ganyu, as perhaps the ones most familiar with the Archons, swing themselves into the nest first, Ganyu curling up in the curve of Zhongli’s tail and allowing a few of Venti’s long primary feathers to lay atop her legs while Xiao stops and waits for Aether.

Of course, Aether follows right away, dragging Childe’s reluctance-heavy body along behind him. Leaping into Xiao’s arms, Aether lets Xiao settle them both just behind where Zhongli’s head is resting on his front claws, then shoots out a leg to trip Childe and bring him down to the pillows beneath.

Childe makes an outraged sound, and before he can escape, Aether grabs his collar to tug Childe’s head onto his lap and comb out the mess of copper hair that now lies within reach. Suddenly stiff as a board, Childe doesn’t protest the treatment, and Aether counts that as win enough.

Meanwhile, Shenhe has nimbly made her way in to lie back-to-back with Ganyu, and Venti lifts his wing to cover her as well. With everyone else settled, Aether can finally turn his attention to Chongyun and Xingqiu, where Chongyun seems to be trying his best to convince Xingqiu to climb into the nest.

“Rex Lapis wants you here, remember?”

“I’m merely concerned— it seems rather disrespectful, doesn’t it?” Xingqiu mutters.

“Come on, Xingqiu. Even Childe is there already and Rex Lapis doesn’t mind.”

“Hey,” Childe says under his breath, and Aether gently shushes him.

Xingqiu takes a few visible breaths, then shakily heaves himself into the nest after Chongyun. The moment Chongyun lies down alongside Zhongli’s scales with Xingqiu pulled close to his chest, Zhongli rumbles, low and satisfied, and his great amber eyes slip shut.

A strange sense of oneness washes over Aether, and he stretches cozily out against Zhongli’s side, forcing Childe to roll over more comfortably as well or else suffer the twisting of his head and neck. Xiao, too, slumps down to nose against the line of Aether’s throat, and Aether takes his hands off Childe to momentarily pet Xiao instead.

Everything is warm and soft, and even if they have yet to figure out exactly what’s wrong with Zhongli and Venti, it’s good enough just to see their mismatched collection of gods and humans; rulers and strays becoming whole at last. Whole and peacefully curled up together, knowing that they are in the safest place any of them could ever hope to be.

There’s only one more person Aether wishes were here to join them. How long has it been since he’s even tried to look for her?

 

-*-

 

Aether wakes up sweatier and far more entangled than when he’d gone to sleep, and with some effort, he extracts himself from the mess of limbs and feathers and clothes and long hair that had apparently formed in the night.

Still bleary, he sits up and is promptly greeted by a blast of hot, mineral-scented air to the back of his head.

“Mm, morning, Zhongli,” Aether says, wincing at the fuzziness that lingers in his mouth. “How are you feeling?”

“Much recovered. All your energies combined are powerful indeed,” Zhongli replies, sounding extremely pleased. The tufted end of his tail thud thud thuds against the ground just outside the nest, and Aether realizes the reason they’re all so much closer now is that the circle of Zhongli’s body has shrunk significantly. A guardian huddling into itself to ensure the safety of that which it protects.

The others are beginning to wake, and Aether gently begins sorting the sleepy pile of life around him. He tugs Shenhe’s hair out of Chongyun’s mouth and from under Xingqiu’s back, scoops Childe’s legs away from where they’ve somehow been twined with Xiao’s, shifts one of Venti’s great wings so they’re no longer at risk of covering Ganyu’s face.

Xiao wraps his arms almost petulantly around Aether’s waist and presses his head into Aether’s stomach— careful of his horns even while half-conscious. Aether pauses in his task to send Xiao a little burst of pride, hoping that it will be some reassurance as Xiao wakes from sleep that had not so long ago been forbidden to him.

“Ahh, that’s much better,” Venti sighs as he stretches and hops to his feet, steps light over the ridge of Zhongli’s back. He flaps his wings, a few stray feathers scattering to the floor before he tucks them away again in a flash of light.

“You should return to Mondstadt, Venti. Remaining here would be a needless risk for you,” Zhongli says, head twisting up and around to look at the Archon on his back.

“You’re probably right, for once.” Venti’s usual outfit of green and white swirls into place around him. “I’ll need to spend some time among my winds again.” He leaps down to the floor, hops a few times, and swings back around on one foot to look at the rest of them. “Nobody get into any trouble while I’m gone, now!”

“You are the only trouble here, bard,” Zhongli grunts. “Now go.”

With a tiny salute, Venti falls backward and vanishes in a whisking of phantom feathers.

Most everyone is at least sitting up by now, and Zhongli goes about greeting them all in much the same way he had Aether, with a benevolent dragon’s kiss and murmur of thanks. The only one he does not touch is Childe, and from the way Childe is quietly hunched into himself, shoulders stiff and face blank, it’s likely a wise decision.

Ganyu rises with a yawn, her robes loose and fluttering airily about her as she descends from the nest and trots off down the hall. By contrast, Shenhe looks as if her hair has been let loose in a storm, and her cross-chest shirt is wrinkled and half-untucked from the training pants she’d worn to sleep. Only the red ropes tied precisely around her body are left to hold the outfit together. She also stumbles out of the nest and after Ganyu, a far cry from her usual sharp elegance.

Aether has seen no few wonders throughout his travels, but it’s always something of an honor to so casually be allowed to see such graceful, deadly warriors at their most relaxed.

The same goes for everyone in the room, in fact, and Aether nudges Childe with his foot, admiring the gravity-defying tangle of his hair. At the same time, Aether is permitted to stroke the unguarded back of Xiao’s neck in an effort to coax him upright.

“We’ll start breakfast,” Chongyun says cheerfully as he helps Xingqiu out of the nest, and Xingqiu nods along with him.

“I— um. Thank you, Lord Rex Lapis,” Xingqiu also offers with an awkward bow, and Zhongli’s tail resumes its swishing.

“It was my pleasure. And on behalf of Venti and myself, I must thank you for agreeing to stay.”

Xiao is all the way up on his feet by now, and when Aether cautiously hooks his fingers in Childe’s sleeve, Childe follows easily enough.

“We’ll meet you in the kitchen, Zhongli?” Aether suggests, and Zhongli bobs his head.

“I will be there soon.”

The last thing Aether sees as he herds Childe and Xiao from the room is Zhongli gently scooping Venti’s shed feathers off the floor and burying them amid the folds and fluff of his nest. A dragon indeed.

In the hall, Childe is still silent, unusually so after what Aether would have expected to be an uncomfortable night curled up alongside… perhaps not an enemy, but certainly not a friend. The total lack of complaint or abrasive comment is just worrying enough to make Aether voice that concern.

Even after he does, it’s a while longer before Childe actually answers.

“…I think that was the best I’ve ever slept in my life,” Childe says on a bitter laugh. “And it had to be with him.”

They all pause just outside the kitchen entrance, where Xiao fixes Childe with a considering stare.

“You are Lord Rex’s Claimed. It should not be unexpected,” he says bluntly.

Childe reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck, but drops his hand again before Aether can do anything more than tense. “Let’s just go inside.”

There’s no point in making him talk about it more now, so Aether follows without comment, and they join the others in putting together a breakfast large enough to serve eight.

Zhongli joins them shortly, but when he attempts to start a seven-hour bamboo shoot soup on the main stovetop, Ganyu chases him out of the kitchen with a polite but unshakable stare. It’s smooth going from there, and after Aether finishes making tea for them all, they cart their mountain of food out to the dining hall and settle in to eat.

Even without Venti, it’s the fullest, the liveliest, Aether’s ever seen the grand table, and a sense of contentment showers over him like snow. It only takes one look at Zhongli’s smiling, practically besotted face watching over them all to recognize the source.

“I will take to Liyue Harbor those who wish to go,” Zhongli announces, and everyone quiets a little to listen. “Childe wishes to see his family. And Xingqiu, as I understand it, your stay in my home has already been extended after the attack on the Harbor. Is it time for you to return?”

“It is,” Xingqiu says quickly, dipping his head. “Thank you for so generously allowing me to visit, Lord Rex Lapis.”

“Of course. You are welcome to return at any time, should your father agree to it once more. Simply pray to me, as the Archon I hope you have come to know. As Zhongli. I will hear it,” Zhongli says warmly.

Xingqiu looks ready to shake apart as he nods again, and Aether doesn’t miss the reassuring arm Chongyun wraps around his shoulders. Zhongli moves on.

“Then Childe will stay with me and Xingqiu will be brought back to his family. Ganyu, I am aware you have your own duties at Yuehai Pavilion to return to as well. What of the rest of you?”

“I plan to return to Cloud Retainer,” Shenhe says with her typical passivity, “as long as Chongyun remains far away from the Liu clan.”

“I don’t want to see them,” Chongyun tags on fervently. “But I’ll stay with Xingqiu until it’s time to come back here.”

“Once I have finished surveying the Archon seals, I will stop in Liyue Harbor to fetch you, then,” Zhongli agrees. “Aether, I presume you also wish to go?”

Aether glances at Xiao and finds hesitance written into every line of his body. “Well… I’d like to, if only to properly move out of my old house and pay my respects to a few of those who’d helped me when I first settled in Liyue Harbor. But I’d rather not leave Xiao right now, so—”

“I will go,” Xiao says.

Aether freezes right alongside everyone else in the room. “…Are you sure?”

“Adeptal concealment— I had not thought of it before, but I can use the same skill to fit in among the humans,” Xiao explains haltingly. “As long as you are always with me, my control is— should be— enough.”

Xiao is… willing to join him? Is no longer so afraid of himself that he can barely even stand to venture near the harbor? When had that happened?

Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Aether finally lands on, “Then… I’m looking forward to it.”

Zhongli beams. “I see there will be no need to rush through my duties for today. Shall we leave as soon as possible?”

--

After a swift cleanup, Aether dashes back to their room with Xiao in tow and heads straight for the closet. Xiao has agreed to go to Liyue Harbor with him— and even if the outing can’t quite be counted as a date, surely it’s not too much to want them both to be dressed for the occasion, right?

Nudging a clearly baffled Xiao to sit on the edge of the bed, Aether proceeds to rifle through their options. Xiao should be comfortable; free to move or fight no matter how unlikely the need, so that rules out most of the fancier outfits Zhongli had gifted them. Still, there are some nice things similar to the training clothes Xiao normally wears, and even if he is limited to the less-extravagant, Aether certainly isn’t.

Picking out a loose pair of pants and boots in rich black, a pale gray shirt, and a jade silk tunic with intricate embroidery, Aether holds the clothes up for Xiao’s inspection.

“How about this?”

Xiao takes the fabrics from him, but only studies them bemusedly. “…You wish me to wear this to Liyue Harbor?”

“Only if you want to,” Aether backtracks. “But I was thinking, since this is a special occasion…”

“Special occasion?” Xiao frowns. “Lord Rex did not mention a ceremony or festival.”

“No, no ceremony, but I think your first proper trip to Liyue Harbor is enough reason to wear something nice, right?”

“…Why?”

Why indeed. “Because… because you’re trying something you couldn’t have done before, which is worth a celebration— and to me, that also means a little showing off, I suppose. It’s also because I…” Aether hesitates, but if Xiao is already set on going, then there’s less need for Aether to worry about accidentally compelling him. Hopefully. “I want to go to the harbor with you. I lived there for quite a while, after all, and I have a lot to show you.”

A thread of turmoil stirs in their bond. “I… unlike the other adepti of the harbor, it would be best if I remain unnoticed,” Xiao says. “The Vigilant Yaksha is no welcome guardian spirit.”

“Most other people in the city will have similar clothes, and as long as your adeptal features are hidden, I doubt the crowds will pay much attention to another person in their midst,” Aether reassures him quickly. “You won’t stand out.” Much, anyway. Xiao’s own beauty might be enough to turn a few eyes.

“…What will you wear?”

Aether whisks out a hanfu of gold and slightly darker jade as his answer. “I… I thought we could match,” he says hesitantly.

For a long moment, Xiao stares at it, both gaze and bond indecipherable. “…If you like.”

Relief leaves Aether in a rush of air, and he takes the two quick strides in to throw his arms around Xiao and pull him in close. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “I know it doesn’t mean much to you…”

Slowly, the stiffness bleeds from Xiao’s body, and his hands lift to tentatively close around Aether’s lower back. “You… it makes you happy.”

The so of course I’ll do it goes unspoken, but Aether hears it anyway, and he presses an impulsive kiss to Xiao’s cheek. Xiao rocks back, his bright eyes wide and startled.

“Will you let me paint on your makeup as well?” Aether asks hopefully.

--

Chongyun and Ganyu gasp audibly when Xiao leads the way out into the entrance hall where everyone is waiting, and Aether allows himself a small smile. Xiao is striking like this, with his hair tied neatly up away from his face and accented with the gold ties Aether had found, red paint at his eyes, and vibrant colors in his clothes. His horns are tucked away behind spells and the glow of his eyes has been dimmed, but he is still unmistakably regal, unmistakably other. Anyone could fall in love with him.

“I see you have not lost any of your skill in the arts, Aether,” Zhongli says, looking both amused and delighted, and Aether returns a grin.

“Hm, I don’t know about that. With Xiao, most of my work is already done for me.”

“Even the finest hosts and performers of the Yun-Han Opera Troupe could not compare to you, my liege,” Xingqiu says, eyes sparkling. “Are you sure you have no desire to work for us as the face of the Feiyun Commerce Guild?”

“Very sure,” Aether laughs. He slips his hand into Xiao’s when Xiao shrinks back under the attention, stepping slightly forward to shield him from view.

He has to stifle a less appropriate laugh when he at last looks to the right, as far as possible from Zhongli while still being in the same group, and catches sight of Childe’s somewhat fish-eyed stare.

“Shenhe has already departed for Mount Aocang, and we’d best leave as well,” Zhongli says practically. “I will remain with you until Childe has the chance to see his family, then carry him back here and continue on to the seals. I expect I will be back to Liyue Harbor by the evening, but with Xiao and Aether there, I believe you should have no trouble returning to the palace sooner if need be.”

A sudden thought strikes Aether. “And if you collapse like last night while none of us are there to help?”

“I am familiar with the symptoms and source now, so it will be a simple enough matter to call one of the guardians of Jueyun Karst for assistance before the worst of the effect sets in.” Zhongli says dismissively. “But I thank you for your concern.”

There’s nothing more to say after that, so Aether joins everyone else in pouring out the front gates and settling onto Zhongli’s transformed back just in front of Xiao. Even if something goes wrong, it’s not as if Zhongli isn’t still an Archon with any number of followers at his command— and besides, Aether has other things to be looking forward to right now.

He nestles deeper into Xiao’s hold as the colorful roofs and gardens of Liyue sprawl out before them. This will be Xiao’s first time touring the city he’s spent half his life guarding, and Aether wants to make the most of it.

Notes:

MIHOYO DENIES ME A DATE WITH XIAO AT EVERY TURN SO THIS IS MY REVENGE/COPIUM

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Chapter 46: Can You See the Paths That Lead Me Back?

Notes:

I swear I meant to put the Xiaother date in this chapter, but then Childe took over.

As a heads-up for you all, I will be very busy moving to dorms and starting school between now and the next scheduled update, so things are going to be a little unstable for a while. To that end, I'm going to put comment responses on hold for a while (unless I really have something to say lol), but I hope to still get the next chapter out on time!

They head toward the house Zhongli had moved Childe’s family to first, of course, Zhongli descending behind the nearest mountain and shifting to his mortal vessel before they all hike down the path to the outskirts of the city. They pass through one of the surrounding villages until they reach a quiet stretch of fields and shops and houses that boasts a wide view of the harbor below.

The day is gloriously sunny, and they’re just high enough on the mountain to enjoy the cool breezes from above, just close enough to the ocean to taste a hint of salt from below. Aether’s hanfu stirs around his legs as he pauses to absorb the moment, letting the others carry on ahead. Well. Most of the others.

To his surprise, Childe stops too, and his hair flashes as it tousles in the wind, free of the red mask that had once pinned it down.

“This is a nice place,” Childe murmurs into the open air, words whisking away down the hillside on which they stand. “I bet kids love it here. Nobody would have any reason not to let them run around whenever and wherever they like.”

“Probably so,” Aether says neutrally, trying to decide what Childe is thinking. Is he wondering about his siblings? His own childhood? His homeland?

“What do you think about Morax?” Childe asks, and Aether blinks at the abrupt change of subject. Whatever he’d been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that.

“…You know I’m friends with Zhongli.”

“Sure, but— why?” Childe’s face pinches. “It doesn’t seem like you need his power or anything like that, and you’re not even from Liyue. What’s so good about him?”

For Childe to be asking something like that when he knows full well that Aether knows about the time he’d happily spent in Zhongli’s company before the betrayal…

“I met Zhongli while we were both still pretending to be… normal, so to speak, so I had a while to get to know him as an equal rather than an Archon,” Aether begins. “When I did eventually realize who he was, I decided there was no point in treating him differently— and at that time, he was an important friend to me. He also later discovered the secret of my immortality, but again, we already knew each other, so not much changed.”

“Yeah, well, the same thing happened to me, and look how well that turned out,” Childe cuts in bitterly.

“That’s because your secret was the fact that you were aiming to steal Zhongli’s power at any cost, so even if you had realized his identity on your own, it still would’ve ended in disaster,” Aether reminds him. “I’m not saying you can’t be angry that Zhongli extended friendship to you under false pretenses, knowing that at least one of you would inevitably be hurt in the end. You can reject Zhongli’s poor attempt at becoming friends with you again as if nothing had happened. But judging Zhongli for not telling you his true identity when you had announced your intentions for him and Liyue from the start…”

Aether turns to face Childe head-on. “But then, you already know all that, right?”

For a long time, Childe is silent amid the swishing grass and trees around them, the rest of the group having long since vanished over the next crest of the path.

“…So you stuck around because he was nice to you for a while and he didn’t do anything to make you leave?”

The words ring of a decision on the brink, and Aether considers them carefully. From the moment “Lord Baoshen” first walked into the teahouse to their acquaintance and friendship thereafter, what was it that had drawn him to Zhongli?

“He was knowledgeable and courteous, first,” Aether says slowly. “He asked for my name, saw all people as individuals with inherent value. His interests were similar enough to mine that we could talk for hours. He always had Liyue’s well-being in mind, and he always followed the rules he had set for himself— so his actions were consistent. Reliable. And… he was very gentle. Powerful, but gentle.”

A beat.

“…If that’s what you think of him, I see why the two of you get along so well,” Childe mutters, and Aether arches a brow at him.

“I hope I’m meant to take that as a compliment. But more importantly, did I answer your question?”

Childe laughs, a rough sound. “Not really… but thanks anyway, Aether. We should catch up with the others before Morax thinks I’ve tried to run away.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that as long as you’re with me, but alright,” Aether agrees.

Childe eyes him. “…Morax trusts you that much?”

“Why do you think he walked away without us?” Aether says simply, stepping back onto the path, and Childe follows without further comment.

--

They catch up with the others at the crest of a small hill above the village, where Zhongli is pointing out a cozy little house and garden set slightly apart from the other homes in its row. Out in the front yard, a red-headed woman with broad shoulders and arms is hanging up laundry, her apron rapidly staining with water as a boy in a furred hat splashes his hands in the bucket at her feet.

“Mama,” Childe whispers as he comes to a stop at the edge of the hill.

A child’s excited shout rings through the air, and two more figures come pounding down the path toward the house, one with a head of bright copper like Childe’s and the other with a warmer brown.

“Mama!” The girl calls, her hair escaping from its tie in a banner of red. “Anthon found the place the pots went to, but we can’t lift them! The mister at the shop said to send someone bigger.”

The woman— Childe’s mother?— sighs in a gust. “Tonia, did I not tell you to bring Yury along to fetch those?”

This time it’s the boy who speaks. “We did ask him, Mama, but he was busy practicing the fancy Liyuean characters from that book he got, so we just decided to go without him.”

“Oh, very well then,” Childe’s mother shakes her head, then crosses over to the door of the house to shout inside. “Lev! Alyona! Come and help your sister pick up those pots we ordered yesterday!”

“Can I go too?” The boy in the hat asks eagerly, hopping up and down, and Childe’s mother places a hand on his head to hold him in place.

“No, Teucer. Let your big brother and sister take care of this, and we’ll all go into the village together tomorrow.”

“Awww.”

A man and another woman, both with the family’s distinctive auburn hair, come trooping out of the house with disgruntled looks on their faces.

“We haven’t finished setting up the kitchen yet, Mama,” the man, presumably Lev, says. “Is it really okay to leave it like this for another day?”

“I’ll have Yury and Anthon help me work on it.” Childe’s mother waves them on. “Hurry, now. We still have the garden to tidy as well, and I’d like to have it done before whatever blessing the Geo Archon put on it wears off.”

“It will not wear off,” Zhongli murmurs as the family below them disperses, then he leads them all away from the crest of the hill so they won't be noticed.

The moment they are far enough that the rise of land separates them completely, Childe stumbles and sinks to the ground, hand pressing into his face. “You really brought them all.”

“I did.”

“And you gave them a house big enough to fit everyone.”

“It would have been cruel if I had not,” Zhongli says softly.

“They have a garden. Mama’s always wanted a garden warm enough to grow real vegetables. And— and Teucer and Tonia and Anthon can run around without someone needing to watch them all the time.”

“This was the safest, most welcoming place I could find for them.”

“Yury’s studying.” Childe continues, muffled. “He always wanted to go to the university, but money was— and then I became a Harbinger and it was too dangerous to let him leave Morepesok— did you know?”

“I… suspected, by the things he chose to bring in the hurry of the move,” Zhongli says cautiously.

“And if Tonia and even Alyona and Lev could go into town to buy things so easily… the people of this village have accepted them?”

“They have no reason not to, even for those of a foreign nation.”

“Did you give them mora, too?” Childe lifts his head, eyes wide and almost manic.

“They had a supply of it from the gifts you sent home, it seems,” Zhongli explains. “But should they ever need more, I have told them I will provide it.”

“Why?” Childe asks, strangled, and with a soft sigh, Zhongli moves to kneel before him.

“I promised you from the very beginning that I would take care of your family no matter what you chose, Childe. I hold no grudge against you or them to warrant unfair treatment— instead, I wish to favor you, if you will allow me. Your family also knows nothing of what happened here, beyond that I removed you from Tsaritsa’s service and that their lives could be in danger because of it. What you tell them will be your decision to make.”

Childe crumples there on the grass, the breeze carrying away the remnants of his stifled sobs. And when Zhongli places a careful hand on his shoulder, Childe does not reject it.

“I swore to protect you, Childe,” Zhongli whispers, leaning into Childe’s space. “If nothing else, I hope you can trust me to do that.”

Childe doesn’t seem to have an answer for that, but he does stand up, shaking off Zhongli’s touch and scrubbing his sleeve roughly over his eyes. “I’m— going to look. Just a little closer.”

“Would you prefer to go alone?” Zhongli asks with a nod.

Childe’s gaze slips around their little group. “…Aether can come.”

“Really?” Somewhat surprised, Aether leaves Xiao’s side to join him, but Childe gives no explanation for his decision. Cautiously, they make their way down the hill, Childe’s head constantly darting back and forth as he presumably watches for any sign of his family reappearing, but they all seem to have safely vanished down the road or into the house.

Childe approaches the far edges of the property, placing his hands on the bamboo fence that runs around it and staring wistfully at the windowless back wall of the house. “They’ll be happy here,” he says, and Aether hesitantly comes to stand beside him at the fence, their arms almost touching.

“Do you feel… better now?” He asks.

Childe gives a helpless shrug. “It’s not as if my situation has changed at all. Just… I wasn’t expecting him to go this far for me. For my family.”

They’ve already told Childe that Zhongli doesn’t believe in inflicting suffering or torture as punishments, which abandoning Childe’s family to their fates certainly would have been— but no doubt Childe had needed to see it for himself to believe, so Aether stays quiet.

“Did you want to talk to them?” he asks instead, and Childe shakes his head.

“I’ll only scare them. This is enough for me.” He pauses. “We were outcasts in our village, you know? After I fell into that Ley rift. I caused a lot of trouble for my family, for Morepesok… eventually even Mama couldn’t excuse me to Father anymore, so they sent me away from the village. Didn’t stop everyone else from resenting us afterward, though.”

Aether listens attentively, and he can’t help but wonder how much of this Childe had understood— or cared about— while possessed by the demon he’d taken on to survive, and how much is only weighing on him now that his mind and heart are his own again.

They stand in silence for a moment longer before Childe turns with a sigh and begins heading back toward the hill.

A door slams open behind them.

A child’s gasp reaches Aether’s ears.

“Big Brother Ajax?”

And Aether watches the way Childe freezes mid-step, then slowly, ever so slowly, spins about on one foot to face the house again. The terror in his eyes buried beneath a well-crafted smile even as he turns.

“Teucer!” Childe says cheerfully. “Look at you, all grown up now.”

“Big Brother!” The boy, Teucer, cries again, and then he’s pelting across the back lawn, over the short fence, and straight into Childe’s arms.

Childe catches him with a soft uff, a storm of emotions crossing his face even as he holds Teucer close and swings him around.

“Big Brother, where were you? We were all just at home, and then this huuuuuge dragon came out of the sky and told us he knew you and we all had to leave Snezhnaya right away because you were on a super special dangerous mission,” Teucer chatters, eyes sparkling. “So Mama and Lev and Yury and Alyona all packed up the house and they didn’t want to go but the dragon man said it was important— and then we got to fly.”

Clinging to the front of Childe’s tunic, Teucer stares wonderingly up at his brother. “Have you gotten to fly on Mister Dragon yet? If you haven’t, I bet I could ask for you the next time I see him!”

And Aether’s heart clenches too at the way Childe’s next words come out choked. “Yeah, Teucer. I’ve gotten to fly on Mister Dragon a bunch of times now. He has this big, beautiful palace up in the mountains of Liyue, and it’s guarded by all these ancient spirits so no one can get in without an invitation from him. You’d love it.”

Impossibly, Teucer’s eyes grow ever wider. “Big Brother, you got in without an invitation? So cool.”

“Hey, what do you take me for, a criminal?” Childe scolds, tapping a finger over Teucer’s nose. Suddenly forced to stifle a cough, Aether just manages to catch the end of the glare Childe shoots him over the top of Teucer’s head. “I went in with an invitation.”

“So Mister Dragon likes you!” Teucer says gleefully, apparently oblivious to the way Childe stiffens. “Did you get invited because of your secret mission?” He leans in close to Childe’s ear and adds in a very audible whisper, “I promise I won’t tell anyone about it, not even Mama.”

“Hmm,” Childe says, allowing Teucer to lean back a little as he strokes his chin in dramatic thought. “Let’s see… yes, I think I can share it with you. But this mission is so secret, you have to promise you won’t even tell anyone I’ve been here, alright? Pinky swear it first.”

“Pinky swear!” Teucer echoes, locking his pinky finger with Childe’s. “You make a pinky promise, you keep it all your life.”

“You break the pinky promise, I throw you on the ice,” Childe continues.

“The cold will kill the finger that once betrayed your friend,”

“And the frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again,” Childe finishes with an overly solemn nod. “Now, where to begin… you know I travel all over to sell my toys, right? Well, this time I was sent to Liyue to learn some super-secret toy designs to add to my collection, and while I was looking for them, I met Mister Dragon. He tried to stop me from getting the designs, so I had to make plans to outsmart him— and while I was doing that, I ran into Aether here.”

Teucer turns to regard Aether curiously, and Aether gives him a small wave. The story Childe is spinning is beyond ridiculous, but… “Your brother told me why he’d come to Liyue, and I realized he was getting into something big.”

“Yes, Aether is a very special person,” Childe says, leaning in to Teucer conspiratorially. “You remember how Mama told us those tales about Snezhnaya’s fairies of eternal winter?”

Teucer nods eagerly.

“Well, Aether is the real thing, just in Liyue instead.” And Childe winks. “He’s been living here so long that he even remembers the days when all the nations were just being formed!”

“Cool,” Teucer whispers. “Mister Aether, do you know Mister Dragon too?”

“I do,” Aether says, amused. “But you should finish listening to your brother’s story first.”

Teucer turns expectantly back to Childe, and Childe clears his throat. “Aether was the first person to realize there was something wrong, and he tried to help me. I didn’t listen to him, though, and went back to challenge Mister Dragon. But then I found out the reason he’d kept the designs from me was because one of the toys was really dangerous, and he was just trying to stop it from being made!”

Teucer gasps. “And then you had to work together to stop the bad guys and save the city?”

Childe smiles, but Aether can see the wry sadness in it. “Mister Dragon managed to stop the people planning to use the toys to destroy the city, but it turns out the bad design I was looking for was all part of a bigger plan, and even those guardian spirits I told you about earlier had to get involved. Then at the end, I… made a little mistake and got hurt, so Mister Dragon had to use his powers to save me. Now I work for him as one of his special guardians, and that’s why I can’t come to live with the rest of you here.”

“But you’re okay now, right? And you have some of Mister Dragon’s power? Can you turn into a dragon too?” Teucer asks, and Aether is genuinely afraid he might make himself pass out from red-faced excitement.

“Nothing that fancy,” Childe says, a flicker of nervousness creeping into his voice. “I just ended up with a mark here,” he taps his forehead, “but it’s hidden, and I can’t show you now.”

“Aww, why not?” Teucer pouts, and Childe wavers.

“Well…”

The earth trembles then, just enough to be felt, and Childe falls still as amber crystals push their way up from the ground to crackle and curl almost affectionately around his ankles and up to his calves. “Oh.”

Of course Zhongli and Xiao must be able to hear everything being said here—despite the hill, they aren’t that far away. Cautiously, Aether looks from the ground back up to Childe’s face to judge his reaction. That gold spark he’d seen during the spar yesterday has returned to Childe’s eyes, if somewhat fainter this time, and Childe’s next breath shakes as it leaves his mouth.

“Whoa! Big Brother, did you make those?” Teucer asks, gaze fixed on the glittering crystals, but Childe doesn’t answer that.

“This’ll be the last thing before I go back to Mister Dragon, okay?” He says instead, and he closes his eyes, adeptal sigils flickering to life at his hairline as the amber crumbles away at his feet.

With a wondering gasp, Teucer reaches up to gently trace the spiral of Childe’s horn with his small fingers, and Childe watches him as if seeing a miracle.

“You look like a fairy whale, Big Brother,” Teucer breathes, and Childe’s laugh is only slightly wild.

“Yes, I suppose a narwhal horn is fitting for me, isn’t it?”

Lowering Teucer back to the ground, Childe gives him one last hug, then a little push on toward the house. “Looks like our time is up now. Mister Dragon will want me back.”

“…Do you have to go?” Teucer asks, lower lip suddenly trembling, and Childe ruffles his hair.

“I’ll be back, I swear. Don’t forget our promise, now.”

“I won’t,” Teucer says, determination scrawling itself over his face even as his eyes grow shiny. “Say hi to Mister Dragon for me?”

“…Sure, Teucer. Anything for you,” Childe says, the softest Aether has ever seen him.

“Bye Big Brother! Bye Mister Aether! Come back soon, okay?”

Aether dutifully waves back along with Childe until Teucer has trotted back to the house and safely closed the door behind himself. Then, with slow, trudging steps, Childe starts back up the hill for a second time, and Aether follows quietly, waiting for Childe to speak first. And sure enough—

“My name used to be Ajax.” Childe says abruptly. “I mean, it still is. But it’s a name my father chose for me, and after I joined the Fatui… well, I haven’t heard it in a long time.”

“…Would you like us to call you by that name, or…?” Aether ventures.

Childe is silent for a moment. “No. I’m not Ajax anymore anyway.” He laughs, the sound devoid of any real humor. “The Fatui killed Ajax, Liyue killed Tartaglia, and Morax killed Childe. I wonder if there’s anything of ‘me’ left at all.”

But Aether can’t answer that, not when it’s Zhongli who holds the last recognizable piece of who Childe once was and only Childe can truly make himself whole again. He aims to distract instead. “Was that your youngest brother? Teucer?”

That brings a tiny smile to Childe’s face. “Youngest sibling out of seven, actually. When I left… he was the only one too young to remember what had happened to me; what I’d done and why I was being sent away. Even after that, it seems like no one told him the truth. So when I sent money and things back to my family… when I was present enough to remember… I usually wrote him stories about being a wandering toy seller to entertain him. I doubt we’ll be able to keep up the charade much longer though. He’ll be old enough to understand soon.” Childe shrugs.

“He misses you,” Aether says. That had been clear enough.

“Yeah.” Something goes unspoken in Childe’s eyes, but Aether doesn’t have the knowledge needed to parse out what.

They reach the top of the hill and the end of their conversation, and Zhongli and Xiao meet them right away.

“Did you do that?” Childe asks, sounding suddenly exhausted. “The crystals, I mean.”

“Of course,” Zhongli murmurs. “I apologize for listening in on you and your brother, though it would have been difficult to avoid at this distance. But I am quite impressed at how quickly you’ve mastered the use of adeptal concealment, assistance with the elements or no.”

Childe goes stock still, then shakes his head hard, as if dislodging water. Or a stray thought. “I’m done here. Let’s go before any of the rest of my family notices us.”

“…If you’re sure,” Zhongli agrees, and light engulfs him as he shifts into his adeptal form.

This time, Childe climbs onto his back without coaxing or hesitation— and with Zhongli arched toward the sky and Childe sitting tall and straight astride him, horn adding to his height and contrasting silver to Zhongli’s gold…. Well, Aether certainly isn’t alone in his staring.

Zhongli first lopes away on the ground until he’s safely hidden behind the mountain from which they’d come, and Aether waits until he can see the distant speck of him in the sky before setting off back down the path with the others.

“Xiao and I will stay with you until we reach the Liang estate, just to make sure everything is alright,” Aether says to Xingqiu. “Unless you’d rather be alone before then.”

“Of course not! You are more than welcome to join us, my liege, and it would be an honor to have the Vigilant Yaksha along as well,” Xingqiu answers with a sweep of his hands. “But on an entirely different topic, I must admit I was surprised to see how lively and pleasant Childe’s family was. It was foolish of me to presume, of course, but given the man himself…”

“What happened to him?” Chongyun asks, nibbling at his lower lip. “The demon must have affected him quite a bit, but for him to have attracted corruption that strong… and then what I saw of him after the exorcism… I don’t understand.”

“…Even I’m not entirely sure, though I do have a guess,” Aether admits. “But I think that’s something you should ask him yourself.”

“Would he answer?” Xingqiu asks, lifting a brow.

“…He seems to respond to those he trusts, and you aren’t someone he has lost faith in. Find the right time, and it might be worth a try.”

“Hm. I’ll keep that in mind, my liege,” Xingqiu says thoughtfully. “It would be foolish of me to simply dismiss Lord Rex Lapis’s chosen vassal because of my poor first impression, after all.”

 

Leisurely, the four of them make their way along the rural paths towards Liyue Harbor, stopping here and there to take in the view or greet passing merchants and travelers. At first, they only encounter a scattering of people along the road, but the closer they get to the city, the stranger things become.

“Isn’t that the son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild head?” A peddler says to his companion as they pass— and Xingqiu is the most well-known among their group, so beyond Xingqiu’s nod and smile, the comment doesn’t merit much attention.

But then, just before Aether continues on out of earshot, he hears the other man’s answer.

“Oh, and the frost exorcist of Chihu Rock! I heard he used to be a part of the Liu exorcists, but left because they were holding him back.”

Aether doesn’t whirl around, but he does find himself instantly sharing wide-eyed looks with both Chongyun and Xingqiu— Xiao being as unfazed as usual by mortal affairs.

Me? Chongyun mouths, pointing at himself, and Aether can only shrug.

They pass a group of stoneworkers repairing the foundations of a building just outside the walls of Liyue Harbor next, and when one of the men notices them, he pauses in his work with a shout.

“Oh, it’s the Adeptus!”

Aether stills, feels Xiao doing the same at his side. For all that Xiao’s name and duties are well-known, his face is not, so how does this man…

Several of the other stoneworkers join the first man in bustling across the path toward them— but the first person they approach isn’t Xiao. Aether startles, hands halfway lifted, as all the men bow to him.

“Thank you, Adeptus, for all you did to protect our city! I was there on Feiyun Slope when the first monsters attacked, and we all got out of there safely thanks to you. I don’t have much in the way of offering, but I hope you will accept my and all our gratitude regardless!” The first man says, enthusiastic and perhaps just a little bit nervous.

Right. Aether had been mistaken as an adeptus several times that day, and if the Liu clan had spread stories, then the trick he’d pulled in front of Chongyun’s old abuser wouldn’t have helped matters. He smiles through his bafflement. “I have no need for offerings, sir. Protecting this place is my duty.”

It’s not, really, but Zhongli had asked him to help, and this seems like an innocuous-enough lie to tell anyway.

The man nods enthusiastically and turns to Chongyun and Xingqiu next. “We’d like to thank the two of you as well! People from Yujing Terrace to Chihu Rock have been talking about the way you defeated all those monsters the Liu clan couldn’t. Liyue Harbor owes you all. If you ever need anything a couple of common stoneworkers could offer…”

“We’ll keep that in mind, sir,” Xingqiu says politely. “Thank you for your generosity.”

They move on, the group of men waving after them for quite a while, and Aether takes Xiao’s hand in an attempt to ease the thrum of nerves he can feel in the bond.

“We’re… famous,” Chongyun murmurs, awed. “I’m famous.”

“We did put on quite a show in the harbor that night, intentional or not,” Aether reasons. “Although I’m surprised that man recognized me, given the chaos in Feiyun Slope while I was defending it. Xiao, you were fighting on the docks where everyone had already been evacuated, right? That’s probably why you haven’t been noticed yet.”

Xiao’s hand trembles in his, and Aether squeezes it tight.

“I wore my mask. The mortals were far from the city. I was never meant to be seen.”

“That seems like more than enough precaution. But even if someone does recognize you, I’ll make sure they don’t bother us, alright?” Aether reassures.

Together, they reach the city walls and cross over the bridge, whispers and stares trailing in their wake. No one else stops them outright the way the stoneworkers had, but the faint calls of Adeptus! or murmurs of there, the frost exorcist, are still distracting enough. None of their audience pays much attention to Xiao, and if they do, their comments only seem to be wondering who he is to be traveling with the defenders of Liyue.

“If anyone else approaches us, just leave it to me,” Xingqiu says calmly as they step off the bridge and into the city proper. “As an heir to the Feiyun Commerce Guild, I have long since grown used to watching eyes.”

“But what if they ask us questions directly?” Chongyun worries, and Aether falls back a step with Xiao as Xingqiu presumably begins an explanation.

“Are you alright, Xiao?”

“There are… many humans,” Xiao says, gaze flickering back and forth. “And they all know you.”

“Not all,” Aether laughs softly, “but I doubt our visit will be as quiet as I was expecting. I was planning on showing you the markets, but shall we find something to do away from the crowds instead?”

“No. I will— try.” Xiao says haltingly, and Aether doesn’t bother restraining the urge to brush a kiss over Xiao’s temple.

“Just tell me if you need to get out of here, alright? You should be having fun, not suffering for my sake.”

Xiao nods silently, and Aether decides it’s the most agreement he’s going to get.

“Let’s go.”

Notes:

I know zip about Russian names, so if I've happened to screw up the ones I picked for Childe's family, I welcome the corrections of those who know better lol

Keep an eye out for updates on my tumblr!

Chapter 47: Understanding

Notes:

Thank you all for waiting!! The edits of this chapter have been brought to you by my fantastic betas, Jerenda and Dragon, and the Sumeru battle music OST on loop

I think some of you are gonna have something to say by the end of this one...

EDIT: I COMPLETELY FORGOT, BUT EVERYBODY PLEASE GO AND LAY EYES UPON THIS BEAUTIFUL FANART BY VANIUWU/XIAORAAN >>>>> SOFT XIAO HOURS

TW: Some references to past child abuse, warning for the Liu clan in general

Xiao has watched over Liyue Harbor from a distance more times than he can count over the centuries, but nothing he had seen from the outside compares to the storm that surrounds him now.

The city bustles, glows, shouts, swirls. Bodies crowd him here and there, jostling and hot despite Aether’s steadying arm around his shoulders. Smells clog Xiao’s nose, the tang of sweat and sea spray and hot food overpowering in the streets. The clang of hammers and pounding of wood echo through the air as the mortals repair their buildings and roads. Dream threads tangle in the air, thick enough that Xiao struggles to see through the translucent masses of hope and pain, fear and resolve.

“Adeptus! You’re here!” A woman cries, the call taken up by those around her as they pass, and Xiao must remind himself that the mortals’ attention is not for him. Aether smiles at the endless watching eyes, but he does not stop or even slow, and Chongyun and Xingqiu naturally fall back, arranging themselves to block Aether from view.

“Things will be a little calmer once we leave Chihu Rock,” Aether murmurs close in Xiao’s ear, and Xiao can only nod, overwhelmed.

Even the endless battles of the Archon War were not as disorienting as this walk through Liyue Harbor.

Eventually, they pass through the cramped, noisy streets where most of the humans seem to work and live, and continue over a short bridge into a different section of the city. Here, many of the buildings are painted a clean scarlet, with colorful signs on the walls and gilding on pillars and lights. Walkways crisscross overhead and Xiao can see endless staircases leading up and around in dizzying layers to form both cage and maze in one. The mortals around him seem to wander it willingly and effortlessly, and Xiao clings closer to Aether’s side despite himself. How Saizhen and the adepti of ages long gone would have mocked him for his uselessness; his cowardice in the face of that which he could destroy in mere moments. But of course, Aether has never been Saizhen, and so when Xiao tucks himself into Aether’s shadow, Aether only trails gentle fingers down Xiao’s arm and cloaks him in an unseen breeze.

The sounds of this ‘Feiyun Slope’ are just as loud as those of the lower city, but with cleaner streets, fewer people to bump into Xiao at every step, and the overwhelming smells whisked away by Aether’s power, Xiao can finally breathe.

“…What do the humans do in this place?” He manages to ask, and Aether looks down at him with a soft, pleased smile that makes every step Xiao had taken through the city worth the cost.

“Feiyun is probably the true center of Liyue Harbor’s wealth,” Aether murmurs. “That means there are merchants and traders from all over Teyvat, shops with fine goods, restaurants and teahouses, meeting halls, rooms for those who can afford them… mostly things beyond the means of a laborer from Chihu Rock. Xingqiu’s family runs the Feiyun Commerce Guild there, for example”— he points to a particularly large building with a courtyard at its entrance— “the Northland Bank is above us, and the world-renowned Li and Yue cuisine can be found across the street from each other. Oh, and I once took lessons in mastery of tea ceremony right over there as well.”

A distant look crosses Aether’s face. “The school changed hands some time ago and moved closer to Yujing Terrace, and I haven’t gone to see it since.”

“Truly?” Xingqiu speaks up. “Might I suggest you take Lord Xiao along to pay them a visit, then, my liege? You remain quite well-known among many of the upper circles of Liyue, after all. They would be honored by your presence.”

“Do I?” Aether says, sounding bemused. “I suppose I had been working in the city for long enough.”

“A thousand years,” Xingqiu coughs, not very quietly.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on seeking out that much attention today, but I wouldn’t mind seeing what things are like now. Xiao, what do you think?”

Xiao wavers. Clearly, there will be more loud, overexcited humans waiting to greet Aether if they go, but Xiao also suddenly wants to know more of the Aether of before. The Aether that had grown to be loved by Liyue Harbor, who had lived and thrived in Xiao’s absence.

“I… do not wish to stay long. But I will follow you,” Xiao says timidly, but his uncertainty is promptly wiped away by the rush of Aether’s joy that fills their bond.

“We’ll only stop by to greet the Master of the school,” Aether promises, eyes crinkling with his smile— and in that moment, Xiao would have done anything, anything for him.

They continue up through a spread of small ponds and carefully sculpted trees and stones, the gardens Xiao had been able to see even from the faraway Mount Tianheng. Here, Aether says, is where the wealthy few of Liyue Harbor make their home, and where Xingqiu and his clan have long resided.

Xiao can easily imagine it when Xingqiu’s strange refinement matches that of these landscapes and buildings.

Several other humans recognize Aether or Chongyun along the way, and on these quiet paths, some do attempt to stop and greet them. Xingqiu is able to neatly turn most of the mortals away, but one remains persistent.

“Our apologies, sir, but we have some business to attend to in the harbor in the wake of the attack,” Aether says demurely when Xingqiu’s diversions fail. “I hope you understand.”

The man in simple, pale grey robes continues to trot along beside them even as they start walking again. Slowly, Xiao tilts his head, tasting the thin sting of power that surrounds him. It is distantly familiar.

“Surely any trivial matters of repair can be left to the people of Liyue Harbor?” The man says, wringing his hands. “Or matters of our Archon left to the Qixing and adepti? All we request is for Master Chongyun, and perhaps Master Xingqiu, to spare us some of their time.”

“I’m afraid they are essential to our task,” Aether replies smoothly. “Which clan did you say you represent, sir?”

“Ahh… well, you see…”

Of course. Xiao has seen these mortals before, wandering the hills of Liyue with their meaningless exorcisms, spinning foolish tales of the Conqueror of Demons, and leaving traces behind in the fear and chains that had bound Chongyun.

“Liu,” he hisses, and steps forward to join Aether and Xingqiu in hiding Chongyun from the man’s sight. They do not stop walking.

“How?—” The man rapidly shakes his head. “Yes, I was sent by the Liu clan, but we would like to make amends, you see! The elders beg his presence at the Liu manor so they may offer him their apologies.”

“At the Liu manor?” Xingqiu says coldly. “Last we heard, the only ones occupying that oversized estate were the slighted people of Liyue in need of a place to stay while their homes are repaired.”

“I— ahem, yes,” the man stammers. “While we provide shelter for the people, those of us in the Liu clan have made use of encampment tents along the slopes outside the manor. But the elders, would, of course, meet Master Chongyun in a more suitable location!—”

Chongyun flinches behind them, and Xiao finds he is barely able to hold his adeptal concealments in place as he mindlessly reaches out to close a hand around Chongyun’s slender wrist. Meanwhile, Aether speeds up with a short, mirthless laugh.

“Is that so? Then let’s see what the people have to say, shall we?”

“Ah, Master Adeptus! Please wait!” The man cries, but Aether does not, and they round the corner of a wall to reveal the grand entrance of a manor the size of Lord Rex’s palace.

By the way cold rage pours from Aether’s side of the bond and Chongyun tenses in Xiao’s hold, it is a simple enough matter for Xiao to guess that this is the Liu clan estate.

Humans mill about the gate and courtyard, one group seemingly guarding the entrance while the others work or talk or play. There are no pure white robes in sight.

“Good morning, everyone,” Aether calls, hardly louder than he might for a conversation, but Xiao can feel the way he summons the winds to disperse his voice over the crowd.

Every eye snaps toward their group, and the gray-robed man’s frantic hand wringing turns to pulling out his hair.

“This gentleman here says he and the Liu clan have an important announcement to make regarding the frost exorcist, Chongyun. If you would all kindly give us a moment of your attention?” Aether says, spreading his hands. He turns to the man. “I hope the elders will find this to be a suitable meeting place, sir.”

“That— Master Adeptus, you must understand—"

“Xue, what is this?” A voice demands sharply, and Xiao turns his head just enough to see the short, slender woman marching toward them, an unpleasant look etched into the lines of her face. Her robes are brilliantly white, distinctive of the false exorcists.

“Madam Daiyu! I— ah, brought Master Chongyun as requested…” The man says, quailing under the woman’s narrow glare.

“I see that. But why is it that we’ve become a spectacle in front of all our…” her lip curls. “Guests?”

“It— it was Master Adeptus who decided such a thing; I could not dissuade him. Please—”

“Never mind, Xue. You are dismissed.” The woman waves her hand, sending the man scurrying away before she makes her own approach. Her gaze flickers with some recognition as it passes over Aether and Xingqiu. Then she bows, a stiff, reluctant thing.

“…Master Chongyun. Welcome back. If you would kindly come this way to join us at the elder’s meeting…?”

“No,” Aether interrupts calmly. “Whatever business your clan has with him can be taken care of here.”

Daiyu’s expression pinches. “With all due respect, Master Adeptus, these are private matters for the clan to handle alone.”

“The matter stopped being private the moment you cut Chongyun from the Liu clan and hurt him so badly he ran to us instead,” Aether replies evenly. “Say what you want to say. Our time is short, you know.” He taps his foot, and the muttering of the crowd swells.

It is then that another group of humans emerges from behind the far wall of the estate, all of them dressed in perfectly bleached robes and most of their auras glazed with the slow-shifting light of life drawing to a close. Chongyun makes a soft, fearful sound, and Xiao does not bother to restrain the crawling fury of his own power as it spills out across the courtyard and over the one whom this Liu clan will never be allowed to touch again.

The gathered humans stir restlessly, but even if they realize that the source of the threat is not Aether, but Xiao, it will be a price worth paying so long as Chongyun’s once-tormentors are driven away.

“I will allow them one chance. Then we leave,” Xingqiu murmurs, loud enough only for their small group to hear, and Aether nods.

“How wonderful to see you have returned, Young Master Chongyun,” one of the elder humans says as he draws near. “I do hope Xue and Madam Daiyu gave you a suitable welcome.”

Xiao glares at him; knows Aether and Xingqiu are doing the same, and the man hastily continues.

“Young Master, if we have committed any slights against you, we deeply apologize. Our arms are still open to you, and your return would only be all the more glorious for your achievements in the city and the honor the Geo Archon has bestowed upon you.” The man smiles, and Xiao wants to cut it from his face. “If you were to ask them, the drifters who have occupied your home would surely agree to leave as well, so you would not need to worry about living in the encampments like us. What do you say?”

Displeasure roils over the gathered humans at the man’s speech, but even so, they wait as Chongyun takes a deep breath, gently tugs his hand from Xiao’s grasp, and steps forward.

“When… when you decided I wasn’t worthy of the clan anymore, Rex Lapis took me in,” Chongyun says, quiet, but steady. He holds up his wrist, and the sigil marked into his skin glimmers strikingly in the morning light. “And I also chose him. I see no reason to forgive you, and there’s nothing you could do to make me— or Lady Shenhe— a Liu ever again. Even if I should ever need the support of a clan in the harbor, Xingqiu has already promised that his family will stand behind me. So”— Chongyun takes another shaky breath— “I don’t need to listen to you. The people of Liyue can decide your fate.”

And without looking back, Chongyun spins on his heel and marches away down the path, head held high and his robes— pale, but still tinged with an unmistakable blue and silver— fluttering behind him.

Xiao follows him, something sharp and warm curling in his chest, and Aether and Xingqiu also come to flank him, fanning out in unison like adepti might guard their Archon. Behind them, the few pleading calls from the Liu clan are soon drowned out by the roar of the crowd, but Xiao’s attention is no longer required there.

Chongyun doesn’t stop until they are well away from the opulent walls of the manor and hidden among the stones and spires of a waterfall pond. Then he suddenly collapses, folding into a crouch and burying his head against his knees. He is silent, but his shoulders are trembling.

“Oh, Yunyun,” Xingqiu breathes, adoration an inferno in his gaze. “You did it. They can never claim the right to you again without going through us. Or even better, Lord Rex Lapis.”

“…Xingqiu,” Chongyun says, thin and searching, and Xingqiu kneels right there on the cobbles to pull Chongyun into his arms.

Aether wanders a few paces away from the pair to stare out over the nearby ponds, so Xiao goes to join him. The late morning sun glitters over the water and heats the stones of the path beneath them, elemental energy settling beneath Xiao’s skin.

“Chongyun… did not punish them as they deserve,” he says slowly, uncertain what it is he wants to hear from Aether in return.

Aether smiles, soft and melancholy. “He is kind. And despite everything, he has not yet seen enough for the world to have taken that from him. I would let it lie, Xiao. As long as he is safe and happy, revenge is not ours to take.”

If it were not for the contract with Lord Rex, Xiao would have happily slaughtered every one of Chongyun’s tormenters, demons in mortal disguise that they are, but he bends to Aether’s will.

“I’ll take Chongyun from here,” Xingqiu announced from behind them, and Xiao turns with Aether. “My clan’s estate is just around the corner, so there is little point in accompanying us further, I think.” He smiles, then, sly and glinting. “And it would be a shame to delay your date any longer.”

Date… has some new human meaning been attached to the word? Xingqiu’s expression is lighting a spark of unease in Xiao’s chest.

Aether rolls his eyes. “I’ll allow you to tease us once you manage to go on a date of your own.” He lightly catches Xiao’s hand just as Chongyun gasps Xingqiu, you’re interested in someone? and they walk away, leaving Xingqiu’s strangled noises behind them.

“I guess we’re off to the school, then,” Aether says, a golden flutter of excitement making itself known in their bond, and Xiao steadily paces after him.

With Xingqiu and Chongyun gone, they attract somewhat less attention, particularly after Aether lifts the decorative sun hat off his back to cover his gleaming hair. Stares still follow them, however, and now those that do come their way increasingly seem to find Xiao instead.

Aether marches on, clearly unbothered, but Xiao’s skin burns with every new gaze that scrapes over him.

“…Aether,” he mutters, unable to give greater voice to his pathetic fear, and Aether slows for him, leaning in.

“Are you alright?”

“The humans are— watching,” Xiao manages, feeling worse with every word that leaves his mouth.

Aether blinks for a moment, then a gentle, and perhaps somewhat teasing smile settles over his face. “I’d hope so. You’re worth looking at, after all.”

Running unsteady fingers over his colorful tunic and golden ropes Aether had woven into his hair, Xiao instinctively steps into the shadows of the nearest pavilion. “You… you made it so others would see me. You knew.”

Between one breath and the next, Aether’s face falls solemn. “I did. If it’s too much now that we’re alone, we can go elsewhere. But in this case, the people aren’t watching you because they suspect you’re an adeptus, but rather…” He hesitates for a moment. “Well, because you’re really quite beautiful, Xiao. I hope you know that.”

And Aether’s words are… Xiao had known, of course, that Aether has long found him pleasing to look at, even before his Heart was restored. This, however—

“You… hoped to display me. As Lord Rex and the other adepti display themselves to the mortals whenever they must appear in the harbor.”

“…Something like that,” Aether agrees. “And… well, you’ll probably find it foolish, but I wanted everyone to see, even if they never realize it, that the Conqueror of Demons is nothing like the terrifying stories. That he’s found peace. And,” Aether flushes slightly. “That he’s chosen to stay with me.”

Of course, of course Xiao had stayed, because Aether is everything he has ever wanted, and he would never try to hide that it is Aether to whom he belongs. Something small and nervous flutters beneath Xiao’s ribcage at the continued proof of Aether’s devotion, and he presses in close, suddenly desperate to feel Aether’s touch.

Without a word, Aether wraps a careful arm around Xiao’s waist, and he doesn’t let go all the rest of the way through Yujing Terrace.

 

Soon, they come up to a battered shopfront being painted over by several slight, agile humans, while a pair of elders watch over them and sort through what appears to be a heap of half-broken porcelain. The workers all look up curiously as Xiao and Aether approach.

“Good morning, Madam,” Aether greets the nearer elder with a bow. “Would the grandmaster happen to be in today?”

“She is,” the woman says, picking herself off the ground with surprising grace. “However, Master Hua does not handle matters of enrollment or questions about our school, if that is what you have come for. Perhaps I will be able to help you instead?”

“Oh, no,” Aether corrects. “I only came to inquire after the state of the school after all these years. If she is busy, of course, we won’t bother her, but would you kindly let her know Aether stopped by to greet her?”

The woman frowns. “…Aether? As in… Master Aether? The adeptus who trained under Master Yi’en?”

“Ah, yes— I suppose that would be me.”

Sound and movement cease around them, and a paintbrush slips from one of the younger humans’ hands with an incriminating clatter.

“By the Archons,” the woman mutters, hastily brushing herself off and straightening. “Well, for you, Master Aether, Master Hua will happily make time. May I ask who your… companion is?”

Xiao shrinks back despite himself, but Aether answers smoothly. “He’s a very important guest. I hope you will treat him with the same respect as you would me.”

“Of course, of course.” The woman gestures toward the building. “If you would follow me?”

The last thing Xiao hears before they step into the dim, incense-heavy hall is the remaining elderly man’s gruff, “Back to work, now. This is no time to gawk.”

They are led to a glossy wooden door with a plaque that simply reads ‘Grandmaster’, and the woman knocks sharply, announcing her presence.

A rustle of paper and tap of feet herald the door’s opening, and they are met by another woman, this one with soft eyes and silvery gray hair. “Master Baihe?” She asks, apparently surprised. “What brings you here?”

“Master Aether of Grandmaster Yi’en has come to visit us, along with an honored guest,” the woman, Baihe, demurs.

“Master Aether…” the new woman echoes, and her eyes grow wide just as Baihe’s had outside. “Oh! Greetings, honored adeptus— and companion,” she adds, inclining her head to Xiao. It is strange to be addressed in such a way, as if his and Aether’s roles have been entirely reversed. “Please forgive me, I wasn’t even aware you still lived in the city. How may we help you today?”

Aether laughs, a gentle, reassuring thing. “I only wanted to revisit the place that helped me make Liyue Harbor my home all those years ago. You don’t need to do anything in particular for me, Grandmaster Hua. I’m just glad to see that both you and the school still doing well.”

“I thank you for your consideration,” Hua says, visibly gathering herself. “Shall I provide you two with a tour of the school? Repairs are still underway after the Vortex’s attack, but something should still be new to you after our relocation out of Feiyun Slope.”

“I would like that.” Aether smiles. “And my friend here wants to see the place where I once trained as well.”

“Of course.”

Baihe parts from them there, and Xiao releases his close grip on Aether’s arm as Hua leads them through the quiet, solemn halls of the school. There are very few stares here, with only a handful of humans in simple robes around to watch them pass. Hua takes them through tea rooms filled with long tables and guide-like markings over every surface, an archive of ancient books, kitchens and spaces filled with practice tools, and a room that appears to serve the sole purpose of displaying a hundred ornate, gilded teasets. Aether stops by one of these, running his fingers over the glaze and down to the card beneath that reads ‘Grandmaster Yi’en’. Xiao also lays a cautious fingertip over the rim of a teacup, feeling its stern, graceful age. So, this was the tool of Aether’s teacher.

“I’m afraid there are no students training right now,” Hua murmurs. “They will return once the damage to the school has been repaired, if you would prefer to visit again later.”

“Thank you, but there’s no need.” Aether turns a soft, almost secretive gaze to Xiao. “The quiet suits us.”

Hua seems to study them for a moment before smiling. “I understand.”

They leave the hall of teasets and step into a particularly elaborate tearoom, this one with only a single table and counter full of supplies for tea preparation, and no guide markings in sight.

“Ah,” Aether says, drifting into the middle of the room. “Now this is familiar.”

Xiao knows little of tea ceremony, but he can at least recognize some of the implements Aether had used to serve him that day out in Lord Rex’s gardens. “Is this… what you did in the harbor while I was gone?” He asks softly, taking a few uneasy steps past Hua and resting his hand on the corner of the silver-inlaid table.

“For the most part,” Aether agrees. “Though I often served everyday customers in the teahouse as well, my specialty was…”

“Our records say you were Master Yi’en’s most distinguished student when it came to serving Liyue’s elite,” Hua says quietly. “I imagine you must have spent many hours in this room preparing for your graduation.”

“It wasn’t so much that I prepared as that Master Yi’en simply sprung it upon me at a gathering of the Qixing,” Aether laughs. “I was confused all the way up until she put the Jinzi teaset in my hands.”

“She must have been quite the instructor.”

“Indeed.” Aether’s eyes slip shut, and he takes a long, slow breath. Then his shoulders straighten and he returns with Xiao to the doorway. “Thank you for your time, Master Hua. I may not be so involved anymore, but I am grateful that you and many others have helped this place withstand the test of time.”

“And it is our honor to have our only immortal student continue to remember us even now,” Hua says with a deep bow, and she brings them back to the entrance and out into the sun. “Safe travels, Master Aether, honored guest. May the Geo Archon guide your steps.”

“I wish the same to you,” Aether says, and Xiao inclines his head to the gray-hair woman, just a fraction, before following Aether off down the road again.

“She had… great respect for you.”

Aether sighs. “Even now, I’m not used to being treated so… reverently, I suppose. Then there’s also the matter of most people who know of me mistaking me for an adeptus.”

“…You have skill enough to rival any of Liyue’s adepti, and you risked yourself to defend both Lord Rex and this city. The humans would have no reason to assume otherwise.”

Aether laughs, bright and startled. “Thank you, Xiao. That means a lot, coming from you.”

“The days of war are over, but…” Xiao mutters, edging away from a towering passerby and closer into Aether’s hold. “Even if we were not so tightly bound together, I would have been honored to fight with my back against yours. Any of Lord Rex’s adepti would have.” He does not know if Aether will understand the weight of his words, the danger it is for any adeptus to leave their lives in the hands of another during battle, but…

“Stars, Xiao, I—” Aether meets Xiao’s gaze, something nameless and blazing in his eyes; his lips trembling with words unspoken. Then he exhales slowly, the fire trickling away. “I’m glad you’re here.”

It is clear that Xiao has missed something important, but with Aether already facing forward again, humming softly as he tilts his head to the sky, Xiao cannot bring himself to ask what.

They descend back to the dizzying red walkways of Feiyun Slope, and Aether leads Xiao up a flight of stairs and through a door framed by elaborately painted paper screens. The well-dressed man standing beside the entrance bows deeply as Aether passes.

“Since you got to see the school and all, I thought we could try this next,” Aether says, giving Xiao a hopeful look. “I’ll make sure we get a private room, don’t worry.”

“This is…” Xiao takes in the haze of steam and perfumes, the low tables surrounded by laughing, chattering humans, and the endless trays of tea and food scattered about. “Your teahouse?”

Aether’s smile is blinding. “I haven’t been here since I stopped being able to work. I wonder who the owner is now?”

“Welcome to the Feiyun Teahouse, sirs,” a dark-haired woman in an apron greets them. “How may I serve you today?”

“We’d like a private room for two, please,” Aether says, taking Xiao’s hand and giving it a short squeeze. “And please tell the owner that my payment will be sent direct from the Feiyun Commerce Guild accounts.”

The woman blinks a little, but does not otherwise react. “Of course. You’ll be happy to know we are also currently running a special for couples and families, so I will make sure to count that in your total.”

Couples?

“May I ask how long the two of you have been married? I must say you look particularly stunning together.”

Married?

“Oh! That’s very flattering, but we’re not—” Aether begins, but the woman’s words still ring in Xiao’s ears, drowning out all else.

“Are we… married?” He asks, and Aether and the woman fall very still.

“…Ahem. I see you will require some time to yourselves,” the woman says, politely clearing her throat. “If you’ll just step into this room right here, and ring the bell when you’re ready for the tea service to begin.”

“I— thank you,” Aether says, sounding unsteady, and he silently pulls Xiao into the designated room, gently closing the door behind them.

Notes:

The waitress, watching them go: o_o

Check for updates and delays on my tumblr!

Chapter 48: To Have One's Soul

Notes:

Welcome to the last chapter of Arc Three! After this, we will be moving on to the fourth and final arc of this story. I hope you all enjoy...

NOTICE: This chapter does get a bit spicer than normal.
However, upon edit and reread, I no longer think it deserves anything near an E rating, so if the Spice is not your thing, just keep an eye out after Xiao gives his gift, or drop a comment and I will send a summary of events!
TW: Accidental dubcon (Xiao pushes himself too far), strong dom/sub undertones

(Edit 9/11/22: Fixed an html error that erased several important paragraphs)

“Xiao…” Aether trails off as he turns, looking as lost as Xiao has ever seen him. “You really don’t have to listen to her, it seems she just misunderstood— maybe because of our matching clothes? She’s just one person though, so it’s nothing to worry about…”

But something is twisting, crawling its way up through Xiao’s chest, catching him in a stranglehold of clarity. Of truth.

Silently, he steps forward, forges on past Aether’s backwards stumble to press his fingers to Aether’s sternum. He can feel the flutter of Aether’s pulse and the steady, peaceful throb of their Heart, safely at home in Aether’s body. He has given Aether the greatest piece of himself, and Aether had sacrificed his freedom for Xiao in return. Have they not already sworn their vows?

“Xiao?” Aether whispers.

“Do you… not wish to be married?” Xiao asks haltingly. Because little as he may know of mortal traditions, this is one that holds sacred even among the adepti. And he wants. Oh, how he wants.

“That…” Aether’s breath hitches. “I didn’t want to assume— and besides, that kind of love was something you needed to choose without any interference from me—”

“Love,” Xiao repeats slowly, tongue rolling over the word. It is the word Aether had used when they first kissed, the feeling that twines itself through their bond every day. “Yes. I love you.”

Color slowly fills Aether’s cheeks and washes down his pale neck, highlighting the faint threads of anemo that still radiate from Xiao’s Heart. Xiao aches at his perfection.

“Are you— no, of course you’re certain,” Aether says breathlessly. “But… is that what you want from me? From us?”

Xiao has no words— but there is no need for them as he crowds Aether up against the doorframe, Aether falling back despite his greater height. They stare at each other for a moment in crystalline silence, and the deep, deep gold of Aether’s eyes burns into Xiao.

“Aether,” he whispers, closing the final gap to nuzzle into the curve of Aether’s neck and smooth skin beneath his jaw. Peace showers over him like rain, a sense of something right— and when Aether folds his arms around Xiao’s back, pulling them as close together as they can possibly be, the feeling only intensifies.

“I love you too, Xiao,” Aether murmurs into Xiao’s hair. “I wanted to say it earlier, but I wasn’t sure— well. Better a little late than never.”

That strange heat is back in Aether’s voice, in every gentle brush of his fingertips over Xiao’s nape, but despite its power, Xiao has no reason to fear. After all, from the very beginning, Aether had given him equal strength.

“You are… mine,” Xiao mumbles against Aether’s throat, drinking in the responding shiver. “Lord Rex will tie us, if you also wish it. I know of adepti who have married before under his command.”

“I do wish it,” Aether says, clearly amused and so endlessly warm. Slowly, he draws away until they can look each other in the eyes again. “You do realize this will give me even more reason to follow you into battle though, right?”

“You have already claimed your right,” Xiao says, bowing his head slightly. “I do not like it, but… a warrior such as yourself is not unwelcome in the fight for Liyue.” He pauses, waiting for the twin threads of turmoil and relief that always appear when they speak of Aether’s place on the battlefield to fade away. “Perhaps Lord Rex will be surprised.”

“…About our marriage?” Aether laughs softly. “Truthfully, I don’t think so. But he’ll probably be pleased to hear it.”

As one, they step away from the wall and settle beside each other at the tea table, Aether lightly resting his head upon Xiao’s shoulder as their fingers intertwine. Nothing has changed, and yet everything is different, the world shifting into new alignment and leaving Xiao dizzy with wonder.

“We should talk about this more once we’re properly alone,” Aether murmurs. “But since we’re already here… why don’t we enjoy this first?” And he reaches out to ring the little silver bell in the middle of the table.

Only a few moments later, the door rattles, and a human with elaborate robes and colorful paint markings on their face pads inside, a tea tray in their hands.

“It is an honor to have you with us today, Lord Aether. Please do not hesitate to ask if you or your guest require anything throughout the ceremony.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Aether says, returning the human’s bow with a shallow dip of his head. “I must admit, I’m amazed that this teahouse has returned to business so quickly after the disaster.”

“We are fortunate to have the backing of the Feiyun Commerce Guild and a fine reputation as the home of many of the greatest tea ceremony Masters in Liyue’s history,” the human says. “Now, shall we begin the tea service?”

--

Xiao pays very little attention to the tea ceremony itself, occupied as he is by the golden thrum of Aether’s affection beside him, but he leaves feeling as though something had been missing.

“Your skills were better,” he decides after they step outside again, and Aether laughs, short and surprised.

“Why thank you. But I’m glad you didn’t say that in front of our host. They’ve likely trained decades for this job.”

Xiao licks his lips, chasing away the faintly bitter remnants of the tea they had drunk and suddenly wondering if Aether would taste the same. Married. They are meant to be married now; bonded and sworn down to the core because Xiao had finally understood and Aether had said yes.

It seems too perfect to belong to Xiao. It feels too complete to be false.

“I think I’ve indulged myself enough by now,” Aether says, pausing on the side of the street. “Where would you like to go?”

Why would he ask such a thing when Xiao knows nothing about the city? But even as Xiao opens his mouth to say so, he realizes there is something he wants, even if he will be unable to find it without Aether’s help. “I… need to choose an offering.”

Aether tilts his head. “An offering?”

“Yes,” Xiao says fumblingly. “A courtship offering. For you.”

For a moment, Aether’s eyes widen, and Xiao can feel the throb of their shared Heart.

“You don’t have to do that, Xiao. Even if we do form a real marriage tie, I doubt it will be anything particularly formal. And besides… you’ve already given me the most important offering there is.” Aether gently lays a hand over his own sternum.

“If I am to court you, then an offering is necessary.”

Aether sighs, but it is not a harsh sound. “So stubborn. All right, but I’m going to find you a courtship offering as well. It doesn’t make sense that you would be the only one required to pursue.”

“There is no need, after all you have done for—”

“Shh,” Aether interrupts softly, resting a finger over Xiao’s parted lips. “I want to, okay?”

And Xiao has no argument.

Together, they wander into the crimson maze of Feiyun Slope, the dizzying swirl of color and sound and life. There are more shops and stands than Xiao can keep his eyes on, so he simply follows Aether’s lead to find a place worthy of their attention.

After some time, they come to a stop in front of a rack of colorful silks, Aether picking curiously through each piece— and it’s then that Xiao feels the sharp throb of human terror, followed by the scream of a child and the beginning of Aether’s gasp—

His body moves before his thoughts, just as it always does in a matter of life or death. Only this time, he is not sinking his blade into an enemy’s chest or ripping through shadows, but… holding out his empty hands. Catching the small body that falls into them.

The spiral of anemo he had summoned disperses, and his feet return to the ground with two soft taps that ring out in the sudden silence.

“Xiaomei!” A woman’s voice cries out from the balcony above, and slowly, Xiao pulls the gasping, sobbing child in his arms close against his chest. The motion is foreign, but the girl does not fight it, and her small hands come to cling around Xiao’s neck as murmurs, then cheers begin to rise around them.

“Xiao,” Aether breathes from behind, and, still feeling somewhat untethered, Xiao turns to him. A small, well-worn doll is closed in Aether’s hands, and it is a moment before Xiao connects it to the girl. “That was…”

“Oh, Luo Xiaomei,” a woman with hair of the same tea brown as the girl’s comes pounding down the nearby stair and across the street to Xiao. “Never do that to me again! I thought… I thought…”

“Mama,” the girl in Xiao’s arms cries, and Xiao lowers her to the ground so she can dart over to meet her mother halfway. “Mama, I’m sorry.”

Collapsed together on the cobbles of the street, the two cling to each other, and the other humans around them circle at a distance. As Xiao watches on, he feels Aether's hand slip into his.

Thank you, Xiao," Aether whispers. "I don't think I could've gotten there in time."

They approach the mother and daughter after a short while, and Aether holds out the doll. “I believe you dropped this.”

“Oh, goodness,” the woman says, sniffing and rubbing her sleeve over her cheeks as she straightens. “All this over that little doll falling over the railing. Thank you, sir. And you”— she turns to Xiao and bends her head almost down to the ground— “I truly cannot thank you enough— we will never be able to repay you for saving her.”

“I have no need of payment,” Xiao says stiffly. “I am simply protecting the people of Liyue Harbor, as is my duty.” Aether’s hand smooths over his shoulder-blade at that, comforting.

“What a noble cause,” the woman says with a wet-sounding laugh. “But even so, I would like to do something for you. Perhaps you would be interested in some of our family’s wares? They are only trinkets, but you may take whatever you like…”

“I do not—”

“You can have one of mine, Mister!” The girl, Luo, chirps suddenly. “Mama let me try putting silver on the hairpins yesterday and I was going to keep it, but— but I think you should have it!”

“Oh, darling… I know you worked hard on that, but perhaps it’s not the best thing to give this man…”

“Here!” The girl pulls a small package wrapped in crumpled paper from the fold of her tunic and holds it up to Xiao, ignoring her mother’s fretting beside her.

Xiao stares at it. Faint warmth is creeping across his senses, the soft jingle of temple bells echoing in his ears and an innocent goodwill trickling into his Heart. This… is offering.

Quiet surprise hums from Aether’s side of the bond, and in a daze, Xiao reaches out to accept the package.

“Payment is unnecessary,” he repeats, shaking himself a little. “But nevertheless I… I thank you for your offering.”

He knows at once that he has said something wrong when the woman gives him a faintly curious look, but the damage is already done. All he can do now is escape the humans’ attention as soon as possible.

Xiao edges back, and Aether’s hand closes over his arm without pause as they together offer the woman and her daughter a bow.

“I’m afraid we should be going now,” Aether says politely. “But I’m glad your daughter is safe.”

The woman bows much deeper in return. “I cannot thank you enough for saving her. May you find favor with the Geo Archon for the rest of your days.”

And Aether laughs softly. “Perhaps we will.”

They leave, the stares and cheers and tearful gratitude falling away behind them, and Xiao happily melts back into the bustling, unseeing crowd. The crumpled package in his hands tingles, and he carefully opens it up as they walk.

A lacquered wooden point greets him first, followed by an equally glossy stem, and finally a delicately carved qingxin head with silver gilt on the petals. The metal is uneven, marked by droplet patterns and several nicks and dents, and Xiao understands why the woman had been so hesitant for Xiao to receive this. But this hairpin has been held and changed by his worshipper’s hands, filled with her joy, and now it belongs to Xiao. In that light, it is faultless.

“How lovely,” Aether murmurs, leaning over to inspect the offering as well. “You deserve it, Xiao.”

Warmth spills through Xiao’s body, and with it comes a spark of realization. Of decision. He needs a courting gift for Aether, after all, and what better choice than a more permanent symbol of their first promise?

“Hmm. I don’t see anything suitable here,” Aether says, tapping at his chin. “But I think I have a different idea now. Give me a moment.”

He trots away from Xiao’s side to a counter and human laden with jewels, and after a few moments of what appears to be an argument, returns with a small fabric satchel in hand.

“That should do it. Shall we find somewhere quieter to rest for a bit?”

Xiao is more than ready to escape from the storm that is this city of mortals, so they pass back through Feiyun Slope and Chihu Rock, stopping only once along the way so Aether can listen to a storyteller leading a raucous song for a number of men repairing a damaged building nearby.

"The Yuheng flew,
The Conqueror slew,
All demons from the sea!

The Star shone bright,
Midst Feiyun night,
And all eclipsed by ice!

The Qilin’s bow,
Felled dark below,
The Exorcist holds the line…"

The cheers and shouts fade as they pass, and Aether shakes his head with a wry smile on his face. “It’s only been a few days, and they’re already making songs about us… I’m sure Ganyu and Keqing are horrified.”

But Xiao is distracted by something else entirely. “The mortals are… singing of me.”

He can feel Aether’s gaze upon him.

“You did quite a lot to… as Zhongli would say, ‘defend their safe harbor’, you know. Probably more than any of the rest of us individually.”

“…The Conqueror of Demons was never meant to be praised.”

“Are you sure?” Aether says, his voice the softest brush of wind. He lays a hand on Xiao’s arm, turning them both, and Xiao stares into a mirror hanging from the door of the shop beside them.

Vibrant jade and gold reflects back, their robes just intricate enough to stand out from most of the humans around them and the jewels in their hair and around their wrists and throats a subtle gleam. Aether is wearing his hat again, but a tail of his hair flutters out from beneath to join Xiao’s, tangling in the breeze. Mesmerized, Xiao reaches back to catch a strand of his own hair, stroking down the glossy, well-kept black. Since when had he so begun to care for the state of his body? His features are still sharp beside Aether’s gentler face, but without any of his adeptal features on display, Xiao looks like he belongs.

“I— I do not…”

“It’s alright,” Aether says, continuing on down the road without any further argument. “We have another eternity together to learn, after all.”

--

The late afternoon sun is just beginning to cool as Xiao and Aether make their way beyond the walls of the city and back up into the less-populated mountainsides along the bay. They walk the entire way— Xiao could easily slip into the shadows to cover the distance, and perhaps even bring Aether with him now that his strength is fully restored, or either of them could have flown— but Aether seems determined to keep this steady, relaxed pace, and all Xiao wants is to stay by his side. So they walk.

Higher on the mountainside, far away from any other human presence, they find a copse of gingko shaded from the wind, and it is there that Aether stops, dropping to the grass below and splaying out with a sigh. Sunlight filters through the trees to form a golden patchwork over his body, and Xiao is suddenly breathless.

“This spot reminds me of the time we were searching for Chongyun, somehow,” Aether says with a faint laugh. “After Zhongli had to carry me out of the city and back to you.”

Slowly, Xiao kneels in the grass beside him, savoring the warm press of Aether’s shoulder against his calf. “This is far better.”

“It is.”

The distant churr of insects and rustle of leaves fill Xiao’s ears with a pleasant oblivion, and that ease gives him the courage to say his next words. “I… wish to give you my courting gift now.”

Aether blinks at him, then jolts upright. “You found something? When?”

With faintly trembling hands, Xiao withdraws the paper-wrapped offering from the folds of his sash, and watches Aether’s expression shift with understanding.

“Xiao… are you sure?”

Peeling the crinkled wrapping back, Xiao brings the silver qingxin up to his lips and pours into it all the blessing a curse-worn adeptus can give. All the love that Aether deserves from him.

Aether’s breath hitches audibly when Xiao leans forward, and wordlessly, he unties the strap of his hat and turns around, bending his head so Xiao may reach all of him. Of course, he has no idea how to weave the pin into the intricate knot of Aether’s hair, but this motion of courtship is sacred. Xiao must learn to do it on his own.

Carefully, he unwraps a coil of Aether’s braid, observing the way the first pin in Aether’s hair— a well-worn, pearlescent thing— holds the strands in place. Then he works the point of his gift between the loops of Aether’s silken gold, careful to ensure that the tip will not stab into Aether’s scalp no matter how Aether rests his head. Despite his best efforts, he cannot make the re-wrapping of Aether’s hair match the original, but the pins do not fall out when Xiao drops his hands, so he deems it pointless to keep fighting.

The pearl and new silver glitter together when Xiao draws away, and Aether exhales shakily. “I… don’t have your courtship gift ready yet. I’m sorry.”

“It is unnecessary,” Xiao murmurs, and then they are facing each other again, Aether surging in closer, closer until their foreheads are pressed together and—

Xiao’s gasp is muffled against Aether’s mouth, and he loses himself to the feeling. The soft, dry scratch of Aether’s lips gives way to wet, and Xiao willingly parts his own lips as Aether insistently presses farther, deeper. Sensation blazes through him, and lights spark behind Xiao’s eyes when Aether’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, nibbling away with barely a pause.

This is different from any time they had kissed before, different from any time they had touched— different, even, from the minutes or hours they had spent utterly given over to the other’s control. A shiver curls along Xiao’s ribs, but as Aether presses in closer, shifting position so he can look down at Xiao, the sensation turns cold. Unsettling.

“Ae—“ He tries to say, but the half-sound is swallowed up when Aether brings their mouths together again, and Xiao surrenders to Aether’s lead, to the warmth of his short breaths and the slide of his tongue licking past Xiao’s teeth.

There is no pain in any of Aether’s touches, heat trickling into Xiao’s body with every brush of skin— but Aether’s eyes, when they open, are wide, dark, wanting. Gold turned to thin rings by the void of his pupils.

Tearing himself away, Xiao throws his head to the side and gasps in a breath, Aether’s hands promptly falling away to allow more space between them.

“Ae-Aether,” Xiao says, but his voice comes in a pathetic whimper. “I…”

“Are you alright, love?” Aether asks, low and rough. He stills, the hunger of a star restrained for Xiao’s selfishness. “Should we stop?”

Love. The word echoes through Xiao’s body with the force of a struck gong, and of course— he is Aether’s bondmate, his husband now, so if this is what Aether wants—

“No. More,” Xiao whispers, throat strangely tight, and Aether regards him for a moment longer before bending back in.

His tongue flicks out over the corner of Xiao’s mouth, even gentler now, and his hands trace down the column of Xiao’s throat, explorative, until they reach the collar of his robes. Then Aether’s fingers are tucking under the fabric, pushing it aside until the folds give and slip just far enough off Xiao’s shoulders, to expose the dip of his collarbones to the cool breeze. He had bared himself before Aether in the past, often far more than this small slip of his tunic, and yet this time…

Xiao cowers under Aether’s stare, struggles to hold back a flinch when Aether’s fingertips trace over the knots of a scar on his shoulder. But though he succeeds, Aether pauses anyway, face twisting with a frown.

“Xiao, are you sure you want to keep going? I feel…”

“No!” Xiao snarls, startling even himself with the fury of it. Hastily, he corrects himself. “I— I only require some time to adjust. Keep going.”

Aether’s lips, wet and glistening, press together in the thin line, and he reaches out with a single hand to firmly press his palm against Xiao’s chest.

“What—”

The hand pushes, and Xiao’s back hits the grass with enough force to push a little huff of breath from his lungs. Aether’s arms and legs land heavily on both sides, caging Xiao in, the shadow of his body looming, those dark, endless eyes closing in—

The world goes white.

 

When Xiao opens his eyes again, he is half-upright, braced on one elbow, the other trembling hand clutched around the shaft of his Jade spear. A single drop of crimson falls from the point to sink into the earth below.

“—ao, Xiao, oh stars, I’m sorry.” Aether’s voice breaks through the ringing in Xiao’s ears. “I won’t do it again, I promise, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think— no, that’s no excuse. Please, come back to me.”

Horror wells up in Xiao’s chest, and he traces the blood back to a thin slice in the upper arm of Aether’s robes, above which is clenched Aether’s hand and below which a red stain is spreading through the delicate silk.

A strangled cry Xiao does not recognize comes from his own mouth as he drops his spear and drags himself forward. “Aether.” His voice breaks on the word, but before he can throw himself to the ground to beg for forgiveness, Aether is gathering Xiao up into his arms with no regard for the wound Xiao had just given him. And oh. This is the warmth Xiao had missed, the Aether he knows.

“Oh, love. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Xiao pleads. “You did not— the fault is mine. I expected your desire and yet I still—”

“You were ready to endure it just to make me happy?” Aether says just a little too loud, and he looks ill. “That’s— that’s not acceptable. For either of us.”

Xiao’s eyes are burning, and he does not understand. “But— I truly wanted you as well.”

Eyes softening a fraction, Aether strokes over the top of Xiao’s head. “If I’m ever hurting you, no matter how accidental, that’s something I really want— no, need— to know about.”

Xiao crumples. “I only wished to stay with you. To make you happy.”

“I know. I know.”

They breathe together for a while, and Aether slowly tugs up the collar of Xiao’s tunic until it is back in place around his neck, his torso covered once more. In return, Xiao focuses his energy upon the cut on Aether’s arm, memories of Lord Rex’s guidance helping him stitch the flesh closed once more.

“…This is probably unwise, but if you still want to try and… share touch… there might be another way,” Aether says eventually. “But I’m only going to do it if you’re really determined.”

Xiao sharpens immediately. “Tell me.”

Aether huffs. “I guess that’s a good enough answer.” Carefully, he pushes Xiao from his lap until they are kneeling face to face, too far to feel the warmth of each other’s bodies. “You fell apart when I was on top of you. Do you think you would feel safer if we traded places?”

Xiao tilts his head. “Trade?”

Face flushed, Aether nods. “If you take the lead. If… you’re the one above me.”

He is… offering Xiao the control? Giving him this new submission without any hope of Xiao doing the same in return?

“But you are the one with my Heart. Why would you…” Xiao trails off, his next words souring in his mouth. Why would you so degrade yourself?

“For the same reason that I was ready to give you control when I was too far under to take care of myself. The same reason I willingly submit to you even when it isn’t necessary. The same reason I do everything in my power to protect you, why I was so determined to earn the right to join you in battle, why I waited thousands of years to see you again,” Aether says, gaze burning into Xiao’s. “I love you. I trust you. And it doesn’t matter to me who has the so-called control as long as you’re not hurting yourself just to please me.”

“Aether,” Xiao says helplessly. “…Aether.”

“Yes?” Aether replies gently, loose strands of hair around his face stirring in the breeze.

Hesitantly, Xiao leans forward to mirror the kiss Aether had first given to him, slow at first, then faster and surer when Aether accepts it without pause. He, too, bites, fascinated by the way he can so quickly work Aether’s lips to a shining, unmistakable red. He, too, licks past the seam of Aether’s lips, swallowing the gasps that follow as Aether bends to his lead, opening his mouth for Xiao to taste him. The bitter flavor of the tea is long gone now, but the earthen, sunshine scent of Aether remains.

Aether falls back against the grass and Xiao follows him down, pressing feather-soft kisses to Aether’s cheeks and temple and eyelids. The breathy sounds he receives in return are enough to drown in.

Instinct drives him down, down to Aether’s jaw and neck, where he licks curiously over the pale stretch of skin, testing the spot with his teeth before—

Biting—

Aether cries out, back arching, and Xiao instantly releases his hold, rearing back to search Aether’s expression. “Aether—”

“You’re alright, Xiao,” Aether gasps out instantly. “Just— that surprised me.”

The way Aether reaches up to cup the back of Xiao’s neck and urge him down again is enough reassurance for Xiao slowly dip back in and begin laving over the rapidly darkening bite in apology as Aether’s body continues to shiver beneath him. He worries over the mark a few more times with soft nibbles before moving on to the narrow ‘V’ where Aether’s collar folds shut just over the base of his throat.

“May I…” Xiao rasps, closing his fingers in the front of Aether’s robe, and Aether heaves himself up on his elbows to help Xiao pull the layers down and off until they spill out across the grass and around his waist. Aether’s torso is unmarred, save for the veins of anemo that thread up to his neck, and he is especially pale under the light of day. Beautiful.

As Xiao works his way down Aether’s graceful collarbones and the lines of his musculature to his navel, Aether lifts an arm and throws it across his eyes, burying his face into the crook of his elbow. A soft sound escapes his parted lips when Xiao experimentally traces a line across his lower belly, admiring the way Aether’s muscles jump beneath the touch.

"Aether,” Xiao whispers, returning to brush a kiss over Aether’s jaw. Aether whimpers in reply, and the sound makes something in Xiao’s chest throb. With all the gentleness he knows how to wield, Xiao tugs Aether’s forearm away— Aether’s eyes remain tightly closed— and places a dry kiss upon the tip of Aether’s nose as a replacement. “You are— you are well?”

“Well,” Aether says, strangled, and at last his eyes open to reveal those thin rings of gold around endless pupils. But though this is the same gaze, the same hunger as before, it is no longer bearing down on Xiao from above or accompanying touches Xiao has no chance of fighting.

“Xiao— Xiao, please.” Aether’s lashes flutter when Xiao nips his collarbone as well. “I want to— touch you too.”

“Do as you please,” Xiao murmurs, and between one breath and the next, Aether’s arms are thrown around Xiao’s neck as he lifts himself off the ground to nestle his face against Xiao’s shoulder. His chin tilts up, and then—

Xiao cannot suppress the sharp sound that leaves his throat as Aether’s teeth close over his pulse point, etching a mark of his own into Xiao’s skin. The dull spark of pain sends a thrill through Xiao’s body. There is no meaning in such a bite, and the wound will be gone by the end of the day, but the feeling of being chosen remains.

They chase each other for what must be minutes, hours, days. Xiao wills away his body’s involuntary discomfort to focus on the sun-warm taste of Aether’s skin, the fire that curls through his own limbs when Aether slowly peels back his tunic again to kiss along his scars. He swallows a cascade of Aether’s sounds, locking each one away in the deepest reaches of his mind; basks in the bliss of Aether’s murmured praise.

When they at last ease to nothing more than butterfly-light kisses along each other’s cheeks and jaw, Xiao assists Aether in dressing once more, smoothing out creases and dusting off grass. In wordless unison, they shift about so Aether may rest his back against the nearest gingko trunk, and Xiao curls into the safe, warm hollow of his lap, breathing in their mingled scents.

Aether looks out across the sprawling harbor and crimson sunset beneath them, then presses a kiss to Xiao’s unwoven, tangled hair. “It would be fitting for me to work on your courtship gift now, wouldn’t it?”

With a questioning sound, Xiao lifts his head enough to meet Aether’s eyes.

“Could I have that unfinished necklace I gave you?”

…The offering of an era now long passed? The final memory of Aether’s freedom in Nantianmen?

Slowly, Xiao pulls the string and stones from their place in his belt, and forces himself to surrender them to Aether’s hands. He knows they will not be taken from him, but… clinging to these offerings as a final hope for so many centuries has not come without its cost.

Aether accepts the necklace with reverence, as if he knows exactly the weight it has borne, and withdraws the package he had purchased earlier from his own sash. “It may not be the prettiest result,” he sighs. “But if nothing else, it will be good to finish this last offering. It seems… poetic.”

Opening the satchel reveals a small golden pearl with a hole through the center and a triangular black stone perhaps the length of Xiao’s little finger, and Aether immediately sets about unstringing the beads of the existing necklace to reorder them around the new jewels. As he works, he polishes and sands down the various pieces with tightly spun threads of wind— and by the time the sun has disappeared over the horizon, the clasp is back in place and Xiao wants nothing more than to feel the weight of Aether’s promise around his throat.

“I know it’s nothing like what you gave me,” Aether says with an uncertain laugh, rolling the golden pearl between his fingers. “But if you could think of this as me giving my Heart to you in return…”

The beads clink as they settle in place at the dip of Xiao’s collarbones, and he shivers as Aether’s searing fingertips loop the clasp shut at his nape.

“There,” Aether murmurs. “Now we’ve made our vows.”

The sky is dark, stars beginning to scatter across the heavens, and Xiao climbs back to his feet at Aether’s urging.

“Lord Rex will likely return for us soon.”

“Mm. No doubt.” Aether tips his head back, eyes gleaming with starlight. “Perhaps soon I’ll be able to…” His hand lifts toward the sky, closing over nothing, and Xiao is suddenly reminded that Aether is a creature of the stars, one who has only stayed so long upon Teyvat because he is missing half of his light.

Selfishly, Xiao hopes that missing light will remain out of reach— then curses himself for wishing that pain upon Aether, no matter the reason. He blinks against the mocking sparkle of the sky—

Brilliant amber flashes in the corner of his vision—

And Xiao turns his head, stiffening as he feels the abrupt pulse of Lord Rex’s power. His fear.

“Xiao. Aether,” Lord Rex says gravely, the scales of the Exuvia blazing as his mane and tail ripple golden banners out into the night. Chongyun and, curiously, Shenhe are already upon his back, their faces equally solemn. “I’m afraid I come bearing most dire news.”

“What happened, Zhongli?” Aether says, alarm in his voice, and Lord Rex sighs heavily.

“I visited all the great seals of Liyue and found them unstable, unbound, even, ready to unleash the hatred within at any moment. Then, as I sought an answer for this impossible phenomenon, Lady Shenhe brought me word of something even more concerning— last night, when the bard and I were afflicted by the tide of corruption, the Guardian adepti of Liyue had also fallen victim, along with every other earth-born adeptus that remains in this land. Hatred is bleeding from the fractured seals into the earth, and those who are directly tied to the earth are weakened by it. Cloud Retainer, it seems, escaped the worst of it by sleeping within her abode, but none will be able to remain in such safety forever.”

Darkness is creeping in on the edges of Xiao’s vision, eclipsing the joy of mere moments before. “Lord Rex— the seals. How?—"

Lord Rex’s claws curl into the ground. “The Tsaritsa,” he growls. “I had thought it strange that she lost to me as quickly as she did, but now I understand. She had never intended to fight me. All she wanted from that moment was to use the scattered Sigils to break the seals of every other fallen Archon in Liyue. A magnification of Childe’s plan, if you will. And it worked.”

“Then this means…” Aether starts tremulously.

“Three great seals will soon shatter entirely, unleashing those corrupted Archons one after the other. And I… I must beg both your assistance and your forgiveness— it is time to prepare for war.”

Notes:

:DDD

(999 bookmarks and over 200,000 words yee haw)

Chapter 49: Final Link

Notes:

Oh my god i'm alive. none of you are allowed to catch covid that was horrible

Short chapter today, sorry, but I really just wanted to get something out since I've already made you all wait so long. Thank you to Dragon for the last-minute betaing!

TW: None, I hope
(6/3/23: Yaksha names updated according to 2.7 reveal + changed the conditions of Zhongli/Childe's bond for consistency)

“Azhdaha’s seal is already shattered beyond the point of mitigation,” Lord Rex says as he shifts to his mortal form in the palace courtyard. “It seems his unleashing will be followed by the Chi, then Saizhen, in order of the time their seals were last… replaced.”

Though Lord Rex stands as straight as always, his eyes speak of an eternal weariness, of defeat, even— one that Xiao knows must be reflected in his own gaze. Saizhen. Saizhen will return, shades and demons will overtake Liyue in hoards, the mere scattering of warrior adepti that yet remain in this age of mortals will have little chance of holding them all back.

“I expect no more than three days of peace before Azhdaha breaks free. Before that happens, we have much to prepare.”

“What do you need us to do?” Aether asks steadily, facing Lord Rex straight on as Shenhe and Chongyun come to stand beside him. A pitifully small mockery of the armies of immortals that had once gathered at Lord Rex’s command.

With a heavy sigh, Lord Rex turns and beckons them along into the palace, past the well-kept halls of daily life and down, instead, to the shadows where Xiao knows the war room is nestled. “The battle against Osial drained me far more than I would like to admit, and the corruption that now leaks from the cracked seals is hindering my recovery even more. To fight three more gods who once could have been called Archons, one after the other…” He pauses for a long moment. “…Even I may not be able to conquer them all once more.”

“What— what of the Vortex’s seal? Is it not also…?” Chongyun asks, a waver in his voice.

Lord Rex shakes his head. “If nothing else, we are fortunate that Tsaritsa used up the power of the Sigils before I returned to seal Osial. That prison still holds strong.”

With a sweep of his hand and flash of amber, Lord Rex clears the dust from the room and lights the sconces on the walls. A great, well-scarred map table dominates the center of the room, with weapon racks and shelves of old texts and scrolls lining all the available space around it.

Lord Rex pulls one of the largest scrolls off the shelf nearest him and unfurls it to reveal a map of Liyue’s wilds. Heavy marks are scattered all across its surface to indicate the location of every great battle fought or seal placed during the war.

A pen appears in Lord Rex’s hand, and, no doubt for the benefit of the three who had not been a part of the struggle for Liyue all those millennia ago, he circles the hills above Qingce, spirit tree of Nantianmen, and the ravaged pit of Cuijue Slope.

Xiao shivers. Though Indarias and Bonanus’s powers have long been subsumed by Xiao’s own, the echo of their Hearts still seems to pulse deep within him at the memory of their deaths.

“Of the three, Azhdaha’s place deep in the valleys around Jueyun Karst means that he will not immediately be able to threaten the people of Liyue, and I will be able to battle him without restraint. Therefore, we must do everything in our power to defeat him within Nantianmen and perhaps have a chance of saving our strength before the Chi is released.”

“And after Azhdaha?” Aether asks quietly, his gaze intent on the map.

“Ganyu is already informing the Qixing of the danger and organizing a complete evacuation of Qingce Village. I have also sent word to Venti, though given his weakened condition, he may be unable to provide any significant assistance. Whether or not the other Archons will help us… because the Tsaritsa began this attack, to fight for Liyue would be to side with me, and they may decide that the risk is too great.”

“Who is left to fight?” Shenhe breaks in abruptly, and Lord Rex falls silent for an even longer while.

“Outside of the Millelith and the regular people of Liyue Harbor who would have the ability and will to step into battle? You. Aether and Chongyun. Xiao, Ganyu, the Guardians of Jueyun Karst, and a handful of other adepti and half-adepti who hold provisional contracts with me. Venti, perhaps. Jianxue and Yanxiao, even, though it was agreed that they will not fight unless the situation is truly dire.”

“That is not enough.”

Lord Rex’s shoulders slump. “Indeed. And I am aware of the magnitude of what I am asking from all of you.”

“What about Childe?” Aether asks, a note of caution in his voice.

“…I do not know. But even if he regains his ability to fight in time, I will never ask him to risk himself for me. It would be… helpful, certainly, if he were to close the bond with me, but that would only make it all the more painful for him to walk away in the end.”

“Does he even know about this yet? Have you asked him what he wants?”

“There was no time for me to return to the palace after I discovered the failing seals and began making preparations to counter them.”

Aether fixes Lord Rex with a strange, heavy gaze. “You should tell him.”

“…I will.”

“Lord Rex,” Xiao murmurs, shifting restlessly. To be standing around like this when war is thundering over the horizon…

“Apologies, Xiao. For now, you should all rest. There is still some work that only I can complete, and we will have little time for recovery later. Chongyun, Aether, I’m afraid I must also beg your assistance in helping myself and the other earth-born adepti cleanse ourselves of the miasma that now permeates the land. Whenever we can be together, it will be best if we stay close.”

“Understood,” Aether and Chongyun murmur together.

“Are there any other matters to take care of before I depart?

The others shake their heads, but there is something Xiao must say, even if Aether does not believe Lord Rex will find it to be new information.

“Aether and I are married.”

The room falls utterly still. Then Aether coughs, loud and sudden, Chongyun makes a sound like a small, squashed creature, and even Shenhe offers a short hum of what could perhaps be called approval. Lord Rex makes no noise, but he does slowly turn to face Xiao, a spark of life returning to his eyes.

“Is that so? Well then, my congratulations to the two of you, though I must say it was a rather long time coming.” The words could be mocking, but the delight in his voice overshadows anything else that might have been. “Shall we hold a binding ceremony for the occasion?”

“…Only if there is time to spare for it, my Lord,” Xiao says hesitantly.

“No need for such deference. It will be good to have something to celebrate in the days ahead, and it would be my pleasure to be your witness.”

“I told you Zhongli wouldn’t be surprised,” Aether says then, a soft little smile on his face even as he shakes his head.

“I take it you were not consulted about this announcement?” Lord Rex arches a brow.

Aether laughs, hand rising to rub absently over the side of his neck, where Xiao’s mark is covered by the collar of his robes. “Deciding whether or not to share that news was up to Xiao. But I’m certainly not unhappy about it.”

“I understand,” Lord Rex says, warm. “Then, is there anything else?”

Xiao shakes his head with the others, and Lord Rex vanishes in a flash of bright gold, leaving them all alone in the shadowy room. With a soft patter of steps, Chongyun approaches Aether to tug on his sleeve and lean in close. He whispers, but the words are not a secret to Xiao’s ears.

“Aether… were you and Xiao not already married?”

Aether’s attentive gaze shifts to fondness, and he rustles Chongyun’s hair. “Oh, we were, at least in every way that would matter to you. Xiao and I just had to… come to a bit of a realization about something first.”

“It is a good union,” Shenhe says firmly, and without any other comment, she strides past Xiao and swings open the door. “We will accomplish nothing else in this place. Let’s go.”

--

After following her out, they silently retrace their steps back to the warmly geo-lit main halls of the palace. In the kitchen, Aether and Chongyun fry some dish made of vegetables and white meat, and Xiao waits patiently as the other three make short work of eating the food straight out of the wok.

By some unspoken agreement, they part ways from there, returning to their own rooms to bathe and shed the dust and sweat of the day. Xiao eases into the hot spring attached to their room, leaning his head against the rim of the pool so Aether may wash his hair; then they trade places so Xiao can return the favor. For a long while after, they simply rest side by side in the drifting steam, and Xiao does his best to forget they will not be allowed such small pleasures as these for much longer.

“Are you alright, Xiao?” Aether asks softly, apparently feeling the churning of their bond— but Xiao can only press his cheek into Aether’s soothing palm and pray that whatever comes, his beloved light will be spared the worst of it.

 

They dress again, silver pin in Aether’s hair and golden necklace around Xiao’s throat, and following some silent instinct, together pad down the hall and into Lord Rex’s chambers. Chongyun is already there, standing small and alone beside the central nest, and a curl of… something winds tight in Xiao’s chest. The boy is so young, even by human standards, and without his Vision haloing him or Xingqiu clinging to his side, he seems impossibly fragile.

“Oh, Aether. And Xiao,” Chongyun greets them nervously. “I wasn’t sure where to go. I thought Rex Lapis might have returned by the time I finished my bath, but…”

Looking closer, Xiao finds that Chongyun is indeed flushed with remnant heat, and though his body should no longer be chained to the flux of temperature and yang energy, his aura is… unstable.

Xiao steps forward without thinking. “We will sleep here in case of Lord Rex’s return later. You should stay.”

The pink of Chongyun’s face deepens a shade. “Are… are you sure? I wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with Aether, or— um. Not that I mean anything by it, but you’d probably want to be alone—"

“Chongyun,” Aether interrupts, sounding amused. “It’s alright. We’re just going to sleep, and I’d be happier if you joined us. You shouldn’t have to be alone right after finding out you’re going to be on the frontline of battle, and against the old gods of Liyue at that. None of us should.”

Chongyun caves easily enough, but before the three of them can crawl into the nest itself, a new aura makes itself known down the hall, and a shout soon follows.

“Hellooo? Is anyone here? I know I heard someone walking past my room.”

Childe.

When Xiao glances over, he finds Aether and Chongyun wearing twin looks of concern, and Aether trots over to the door to call out in return.

“We’re in Zhongli’s room.”

Childe’s steps hasten as he comes to join them. “Hey, what’s going on? Where’s Morax? He said everyone would be back by dinner, but it’s way past that now…”

Aether and Chongyun exchange a glance.

“There was a bit of a crisis,” Aether says slowly. “We might be facing the destruction of Liyue right now.”

For a moment, Childe blinks at him as if waiting for more— but when Aether remains silent and serious, his expression shifts to something incredulous. “Wait, you’re not joking? Morax actually found a threat to Liyue between when he dropped me here this morning and the time he was supposed to come back?”

“Well, he went to check on the seals of the old gods, right? I’m sure you can imagine what he found.”

“…So you’re saying— like Osial—”

Aether nods, cautiously slow. “Exactly like Osial, actually. It seems like the Tsaritsa used the same method you did, if on a grander scale, to unleash all the other once-Archon contenders.”

“Oh.” Childe falls silent, expression unreadable. “I… see.”

A few more moments pass before Aether softly turns away and beckons them all to the nest. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m exhausted. And seeing as we probably won’t be getting many full nights of rest in the near future, I’m not going to pass up this chance.”

Chongyun makes a small, unhappy sound, but follows Aether without hesitation, and Xiao simply calls a step of wind to lift him into the nest at Aether’s side.

“Childe?” Aether asks lightly.

“…Yeah. Alright.”

Childe heaves himself up onto the mound of bedding and curls up a short distance away from Xiao and the others. Given his sharp reluctance of the night prior and his distinctly more violent protests before that, his sudden passivity now is strange.

 

It is not long before Aether and Chongyun are deeply asleep, their breathing soft and slow, purity spilling out over the room in soothing waves as their bodies recover. Xiao, though sleep is no longer forbidden to him, still has far less need of it than humans, and so he settles himself between Aether and Chongyun, a watcher in the night. Next to such faultless souls, each breath tastes of flight, of freedom and sun and clear sky, and Xiao relaxes into the feeling.

His typical meditation eludes him, however— he cannot properly focus his own thoughts when one pulse still flutters in his ears, fast then slow then fast again; when shifting limbs pull at the surrounding blankets and rustle in the stillness.

“You must rest,” Xiao says, low and short. “Lord Rex will not be pleased if he returns to find you uncared for.”

Childe’s movements cease as Xiao speaks, but he sits up soon after, his eyes a dull glint in the moonlight. “Because that’s what you really care about, huh? Your precious ‘Lord Rex?’”

Again, this human is attempting to anger him, but Xiao will not rise to his taunts. “Lord Rex Lapis is my Archon, and I would be a poor servant if I did not pay attention to his requests. But do not misunderstand. Whether or not you choose to fight, the coming days will likely be the worst of this era, and I have no desire to see you endure them while already weakened.”

“Easy for you to say,” Childe mutters. “You probably have some kind of fancy adeptus power to make you fall asleep on command.”

“I was only ever trained to remain awake,” Xiao says stiffly. “But that matters little here. What is keeping you from rest?”

Childe’s stare narrows for a moment, then he turns his face away. “…Why are you so devoted to him? Morax, I mean.”

Surely that is not the question that has left this mortal so restless and tense. “You have already heard of how he accepted me into his ranks and favored me after my old master was slain.”

“Obviously I know that,” Childe says shortly. “But even if he rescued you, there’s no reason to be so… so attached to him, right? Actually, for everyone here to be so attached.”

“Were you not similarly devoted to the Cryo Archon?”

A snort. “I was ready to kill and die for Her Majesty, sure, but I’ve never wanted to cozy up in bed with her the way you all do with Morax. She would have destroyed us before we could even step within arm’s reach. That’s how it should be.”

Slowly, Xiao inclines his head. The words ring familiar and true, like the remnants of Xiao’s own eternity under a cruel master. “Indeed, perhaps that is how it should be. But Lord Rex does not believe the same, and he values his treasures even more than himself. I suppose, to answer your question—” Xiao hesitates, but it seems Childe must hear this before he will be able to sleep. “My life is forfeit because Lord Rex gave it to me anew. But as for why my devotion belongs to him… despite the harm I had inflicted on him and his followers, despite how broken and corrupted I had become, he refused to see me as a tool. He has always called me by name.”

“…But he bound you,” Childe says blankly, and in a sudden moment of clarity, Xiao can hear the unspoken As he did me.

“He bound me,” Xiao agrees. “And I was grateful to belong. But you are human, not adeptus, and my purpose is not yours.”

Turning away from the light of Childe’s shivering, fragile gaze, Xiao stares out the window to the swiftly rising moon, attuning himself once more to the thrum of his bond with Aether and the currents of the winds outside.

Behind him, Childe shuffles about a few more times, flops back down the sheets— and does not stir again.

 

--

 

Xiao is roused from his meditation by a great pulse of geo, the clicking of talons, and the wordless scream of agony that pours off Lord Rex’s scales in waves so thick and heavy that even Xiao can barely swallow down his next breath.

“Lord Rex,” he chokes out, and then Aether is waking too, eyes wide as his confusion and fear tangles in their bond.

A low, scraping noise that could perhaps be called a whine echoes from Lord Rex’s throat, and he plunges into the nest, straight into Aether’s opening arms. Fully extended, Aether’s hands only reach halfway up his jaw, but Lord Rex pushes deeply into the hold regardless, forcing Aether back down against the pillows with his weight.

The passive flow of cleansing that had filled the room before roars to blazing life, and Aether mutters reassurances over the small scales of Lord Rex’s snout. Xiao also closes in, fingers and teeth alight with the power to cut corrupted dream threads away from Lord Rex’s body.

“Shh, Zhongli. You’re safe now, I’ll take care of you,” Aether whispers. “What happened?”

It is a long, terrible moment before Lord Rex answers. “…I burned into place the seals and spells that will keep the old Archons at bay and aid us in the inevitable battle ahead, but the miasma around their prisons… it has become nigh unbearable for any living creature,” he groans, tail and claws curling in tight. Protective. “Shades are already beginning to slip through the cracks. Our time is short.”

Chongyun and Childe are beginning to stir as well, and Chongyun promptly turns his own power to burning away the shadows that had trailed in with Lord Rex. Under the onslaught of two purities now intertwined, the darkness cannot last long.

“Thank you, Aether, Chongyun, Xiao,” Lord Rex rumbles faintly, and his head at last drops from Aether’s hold as he buries himself into the deepest, softest part of the nest.

“What, so you… got attacked by the remnants of those unsealed gods?” Childe asks as he sits up, slow and wary.

Lord Rex opens one great amber eye. “…In a manner of speaking. There is no need for you to concern yourself if you do not wish it, Childe.”

Childe scowls instantly. “I may hate you, but I’m not stupid. If I have no choice but to live here now, I have a right to care about enemies so dangerous even the Geo Archon can’t stop them, don’t you think?”

Eyelids slipping shut, Lord Rex’s head dips in a nod. “…You are correct, of course. Very well.”

Briefly, he offers Childe the same explanation he had given in the war room earlier, and Childe listens with a stony expression, arms crossed.

“You said if I keep rejecting your… claim,” he says as if the word burns him. “I could just walk away from you when this is all over.”

“That should be the case.”

“But you shared your power or something with me, right? To keep me alive and mess with my Vision? I’m assuming that if I gave in to the claim, that would close the circle and give you your power back. That’s what it feels like in my head, anyway.” Childe scratches at the mark on his nape.

“…That is indeed correct,” Lord Rex says slowly, his eyes having opened again, blown wide. “However—”

“I wouldn't be able to leave you, I guess,” Childe interrupts with a rough snort. “Nothing comes without a price.”

"It would not be impossible, but..." Lord Rex trails off, clearly waiting for whatever Childe will conclude of his thoughts.

“I really can’t believe I’m doing this,” Childe mutters. Then, louder, “Obviously you’re about to need all the strength you can get, and I’m part of that. Might as well use me for the only thing I’m really good for anymore, right? Finish your claim on me, Morax, and let me at least help protect my family.”

The wind howls by outside, and from Aether, Chongyun, and Lord Rex, Xiao cannot hear even the whispering rhythms of breath that normally fill the air around them.

“Childe…” Aether says softly.

Xiao meets Childe’s defiant, over-bright gaze. “Such a bond cannot be undone.”

“I figured,” Childe tosses back. “You better not have been lying to me, adeptus.”

“If I were to be bound to another again, I would choose Lord Rex every time.”

“Fine then.” Turning to a stunned Lord Rex, Childe spreads his hands. “Well?”

“Childe…” Lord Rex begins, low and rough. Transfixed. “Are you certain? With me, you want to…”

“Don’t you dare try to make me beg for this,” Childe spits, and that seems to be enough for Lord Rex.

“Very well. There is little for me to do at this point, however. You must accept the open end of the bond as a part of yourself.” Lord Rex lifts a claw, delicately extending one of the curved points to rest in the fabric over Childe’s sternum.

Childe closes his eyes, brow never once letting up its furious crease, and a moment later, a shower of gold spirals up his throat from beneath his robes and down the scales of Lord Rex’s outstretched talon. The human and dragon shiver as one, and then a bright glow erupts from the folds of Childe’s sash as he staggers back, hands clapping over the spot.

“What—”

Lord Rex’s eyes are blazing, geo power steadily building in the air and leaving Xiao’s breaths heavy in his lungs. How much strength had Lord Rex devoted to keeping Childe alive that night on the shores of Guyun, if power this great is being returned to him now?

A sudden movement from Childe draws Xiao’s attention again, and he watches as uneven droplets of water gather around Childe’s hands and wrists, Childe clearly trying to shake them off.

“Shit—” Childe hisses, withdrawing his Vision from his belt to reveal a light as strong as the burning of Lord Rex’s gaze. “Morax, I can’t—”

“Come here,” Lord Rex says softly, and apparently unconsciously, Childe obeys, walking into the loose cage of talons before him and resting his head against Lord Rex’s jaw.

The water ripping over his skin dissipates. The glow of his Vision and Lord Rex’s eyes fades. The world falls still.

 

“…Did… did they just get married too?” Chongyun whispers, disbelieving.

Notes:

I swear I'm going to give Xiaother a wedding someday

Chapter 50: Degrees of the Soul

Notes:

It's finals week(s) again, but here's a chapter to get us all through it!

I HAVE SO MANY COOL THINGS TO SHARE WITH YOU ALL THIS TIME:
-- TWO truly incredible art pieces by @lini-art that you can see Here and Here if you haven't already!

-- A lovely and soft Xiao in his hanfu by @vaniuwu that I forgot to add last time and didn't give the attention it deserves!

-- Another Mood Playlist by @ACosmicKid that had me sobbing on the floor and listening to on repeat while I wrote!
For a completely different music genre, I'd like to remind everyone that you can also check out This Playlist by @dumb_boy_writings or my Personal Playlist that I occasionally update when I find a song with the correct Vibes!

-- You all have blasted this fic past 6000 KUDOS AND 1000 BOOKMARKS, and I'm just???? alskdhflshfla

TW: Nothing, I hope

Chongyun and Childe fall asleep soon after everyone settles down again, both of them no doubt exhausted after the decidedly… eventful night. Aether lies down too, but instead of drifting off, he finds himself mesmerized by the play of amber light across Childe’s hair as Zhongli steadily watches over his beloved.

Childe is sprawled against the protective curve of Zhongli’s body; much, much closer than he’d ever willingly gone before, and if the spread of his limbs and slack lines of his face are any indication, he even feels safe there. It’s a stark change from the suspicion he’d directed at Zhongli mere hours before accepting Zhongli’s claim, and Aether can’t help but worry.

“It seems too good to be true,” Zhongli rumbles, eerily in line with Aether’s thoughts, and the glow of his visible eye flickers as he fixes his gaze on Aether and Xiao instead.

“…He gave you everything, Zhongli,” Aether murmurs in reply. “Everything.”

Childe had obviously been trying to settle things in his own mind before this monumental decision, but had a single visit to his family and a few words from Aether— and apparently Xiao?— really been enough to make him give up entirely on his final resistance?

“I am aware,” Zhongli says wonderingly. “And I admit I cannot understand his choice, even the face of war. This is not his fight, and even though his family is here, he could simply have requested that they be sent to a different nation. I would have done it. That he accepted the bond anyway… I cannot help but hope.”

Why Childe had chosen to stay, only the man himself would truly know, but Aether can make a few guesses. Even from the time they had run into each other at Wanmin Restaurant, Childe had clearly missed Zhongli just as much as he’d proclaimed to hate him— and if he’d been looking for a reason to forgive Zhongli ever since his mind had been freed from the demon… perhaps a few promises from those who trusted Zhongli really had been enough. On top of that, Childe’s reaction to the news about the war and the way the old gods had been unleashed seemed to suggest guilt. At the method, perhaps? Or over the harm his first Archon had caused?

Then, of course, there was the matter of his family, and how relieved he’d been to see them happy. It seems likely enough that Childe hadn’t wanted to uproot them again from a place where they finally belonged, but was really he so determined as to sign away the rest of his life for it?

“Just… be careful with him, alright?” Aether says a little pleadingly.

“He is weak,” Xiao adds, quiet. “Desperate enough to presume that I could give him answers to his questions.”

“You’re just as good of a source as any of the rest of us,” Aether counters immediately. “But… I understand what you mean.” He returns to Zhongli. “It’s most likely he’s accepted your claim not because he wants your affections, but because one way or another, he believes he had no other choice.” Meeting Zhongli’s gaze head on, he finds an ancient glow of pain and longing in those amber depths.

“I understand,” Zhongli says softly. “Thank you, for your advice and your loyalty to Childe. I will restrain myself.”

“That’s all he needs.”

Zhongli returns to watching over Childe, Xiao settles back into his meditation, and Aether presses himself against the warm, solid line of Xiao’s side, trying to take enough comfort in it to sleep.

This is just one more trial for them all to work through. They’ll figure it out.

They have no time to do otherwise.

 

--

 

“Pass me the shoulder plates, would you, Chongyun?”

“I only have a few… oh, and most of the twine has rotted out…”

“That’s alright, I’ll just add them to the reject pile. Xiao?”

“These spears are weak. Even honing them would be of little use.”

“And not much point in sharpening them if there’s no one to carry them into battle, I suppose.”

“Indeed. Lord Rex has far stronger weapons in his hoard, so these are unnecessary.”

“Oh! I found another complete set of armor.”

“That looks to be about… Shenhe’s size, maybe? It’s definitely too big for me or Xiao.”

“The chest plate would not fit me.”

The clang and clatter of equipment mixes with their voices as Aether, alongside Xiao, Chongyun, and Shenhe, works to clear out the long-unused armory of Zhongli’s palace. Everything is covered in dust, most of the fabric and string that makes up the armor has moldered away, and every other blade is pockmarked and rust stained. It’s a proud reminder of how peaceful Liyue has been for the last thousand years, but a serious problem for them now.

“This is meaningless,” Xiao says after a few more minutes of struggle. “All the weapons here are crude, meant to be used and broken by endless armies of adepti. Even if these things had not been worn away by time, Lord Rex’s generals would never be expected to fight with such inferior tools.”

Aether stares down at the dusty helmet in his hands. Given how damaged and unwieldy this whole collection is, Xiao’s decision isn’t wrong, and Aether had been thinking much the same from the start. But even if they all have at least serviceable weapons, armor is a different story— and unlike the time they’d fought for a single night to defend Liyue Harbor, something they won’t be able to make do without. If only they’d had even a few more days of warning…

“But we aren’t generals,” Chongyun frets. “And it’s not as if we have time to commission weapons and armor tailored specifically for us.”

Xiao blinks. “There may no longer be soldiers for you to command, but in this war, you are just as valuable as any of the old generals. You will not be given armor or weapons that could have any chance of hindering you.”

“…Huh? But I— I’m not an adeptus. And I haven’t even finished my exorcist training yet…"

“You and Aether may be the only chance any of us adepti have of enduring the impurity of three unsealed Archons without falling to corruption. Lord Rex will do anything to protect you,” Xiao says slowly, as if the truth of his words should be obvious.

Chongyun seems to have been struck dumb, so Aether steps in instead. “Even if that’s the case, the three of us still need to find armor somehow.”

Xiao is silent for a moment. “I will speak with Lord Rex. There is no point in wasting any more time here.” And with that, he stands and whisks out the door, light on his feet even in his disgust.

“We might as well go too,” Aether says with a sigh, gently returning the helmet he’d been holding to one of the empty shelves nearby. “Zhongli needs to know his armory is a lost cause, and we don’t have time to sit around waiting for a different task.”

Quietly, they pick themselves up, leaving the weapons and armor in piles on the floor, and Aether moves to the front to lead them after Xiao. The thread of ever-present awareness that connects them is enough to tug him through the halls and all the way down to the luxurious, sunlit back gardens. There, he opens the door to find Xiao standing in the shadow of the walkway just outside.

“Xiao?” Aether asks softly as they all pad over the stones toward him, and Xiao angles his head slightly out toward the central ornamental ponds in response.

It’s a moment before Aether is able to find the final two occupants of the palace, lost as they are in the glare off the water and ripple of fountains and waterfalls amid the many pools. Childe is standing waist-deep among a spread of lotus blossoms, his eyes closed and shoulders drawn up tight as Zhongli kneels on a jutting stone before him. Both of their arms are outstretched, meeting in the middle so Zhongli can trace rhythmic patterns down from Childe’s elbows all the way to his fingertips. Elemental energy pours off them— or at least Zhongli— in a flood, and Aether rubs his own arms as the phantom crackle of stone meets his skin.

“Lord Rex is teaching him the elemental channels of geo,” Xiao murmurs in response to the unspoken curiosity in the air, and for a minute they all simply stand there waiting, unable to either leave or interrupt.

“But… why are they doing it in a pond?” Chongyun whispers.

“So Childe doesn’t lose hold of his first element in the meantime, I expect,” Aether muses, and he is gratified by Xiao’s nod.

“I have no reason to wait here,” Shenhe decides with her usual bluntness. “Should Lord Rex Lapis need me again, I will be preparing more talismans.” And with that, she turns around and steps back into the shadows of the hall, the door swinging shut with barely a whisper behind her.

“I— I should go with her,” Chongyun says determinedly. “That’s something I really can help with, and she promised to teach me some stronger barriers too.”

Talisman crafting isn’t a strictly necessary task after the arsenal they’d already created, but it’s better than all four of them standing about and giving Childe’s moment of vulnerability an audience. “We’ll call you back if Zhongli has a more important task for us,” Aether agrees. “Though after the talismans, I’m not sure there will be much else to do here.”

So Chongyun leaves too, and Xiao and Aether are left in silence, surrounded only by the soft chatter of birds and water and wind. A rising pulse of geo meets Aether’s senses, and in the ponds before them, Childe suddenly yanks his hands from Zhongli’s grip— but Zhongli keeps his arms patiently extended, and after a wavering moment, Childe returns.

Despite Childe’s small hesitations, it’s a movement that almost looks like trust.

Again and again the two of them attempt… whatever it is Childe is supposed to be mastering. And again and again, Childe flinches away, or jolts as if shocked by electro, or flares so bright and uncontrolled that Zhongli is forced to withdraw.

Childe’s expression is drawn tight when he speaks, too low for Aether to hear, and Zhongli replies in kind. But by the way Xiao’s eyes narrow, the exchange wasn’t exactly something cheerful and encouraging.

Standing, Zhongli extends a hand that Childe ignores as he splashes his way out of the pond. The patchwork Vision at Childe’s hip flashes, and he pauses as if expecting something to happen— but if there is an effect, it’s nothing Aether can see. Given that Childe proceeds to stomp off deeper into the garden, it’s not difficult to guess that he hadn’t gotten the outcome he’d been hoping for.

By the pond, Zhongli turns away from the path Childe had taken and bows his head, his graceful, stone-carved hands clasping together before him.

After sharing a glance with Xiao, Aether approaches.

“Zhongli…”

“…Ah.” Zhongli lifts his gaze again. “So you saw all that. I admit I had hoped, perhaps naively, that Childe’s training would go smoother than this. That he would be able to trust me.”

With war only days away, it’s not a great sign for Childe’s potential as another defender of Liyue— but what else can they do? “It’s too soon, I suppose,” Aether sighs. “Was there some specific problem, or…?”

“The flow of geo is already so far removed from that of hydro as to be almost impossible to learn, but Childe now has both— and the elements intertwined at that,” Xiao answers, careful in a way that implies recitation. “He appeared— frustrated that he could not control even his original power.”

“Indeed.” Zhongli nods. “And while I could engrave the necessary patterns into his body and mind… the trust he extended to me only reaches as far as closing the bond. I would be unable to leave such marks upon him without force enough to destroy his spirit.” For a moment, he is silent. “Well. Regardless, I doubt you left the armory simply to come watch Childe’s training.”

“Mm. All the equipment there… it’s useless to us. And even if everything wasn’t so worn away, most of it wouldn’t suit our bodies or training. We need to find some other way of getting armor, if nothing else.”

“Please, Lord Rex, if you would allow it— Aether and Chongyun, and Cloud Retainer’s disciple— they need some of the armor from your hoard,” Xiao whispers, bowing low. “I can think of no other way to find them suitable protection in time.”

“There is no need to beg it of me, Xiao,” Zhongli says immediately. “If anything, I should have made the suggestion myself.” Glancing back over his shoulder in the direction Childe had disappeared, he sighs. “I… see that it will do little good to follow him now. Let us return first.”

They collect Chongyun and Shenhe from the makeshift talisman workroom on the way to Zhongli’s quarters, all of them silent under the weight of what this new plan means. To receive the tools of war from an Archon’s own hoard is to take on power far greater than that of a normal soldier… and the god’s expectations along with it. Aether, of course, could hardly be shaken by responsibility even of this magnitude, and Xiao’s duty has always been to carry out an Archon’s will— but the other two still have at least some awe of the divine.

Zhongli leads them to one of the more organized stretches of his hoard, where endless rows of armor are displayed on stands against the walls, each piece shimmering with an overflow of sacred power. Every set looks light, yet unbreakable, glossy with lacquer and rich with color.

“If you will allow me,” Zhongli says, quiet to match the solemn melancholy that permeates the air. “I have the ability to unweave each of your auras and find the armor that will best resonate with your bodies and ambitions. It will be a faster process than trying on each set individually.”

Naturally, Xiao bows his head in agreement, and Shenhe soon follows— if she’s trained under Cloud Retainer, then no doubt she’s familiar with such adeptal techniques. After a moment of consideration, Aether nods as well. He trusts Zhongli, and there is nothing Zhongli could find in Aether’s head that Aether isn’t willing to show him. Whether Zhongli will actually be able to unravel Aether’s power enough to read him, however… well, if nothing else, Aether is curious enough to let it happen.

That leaves only Chongyun, whose hands are clutching subtly at the hem of his tunic. “It… it would be just like last time, right? It won’t hurt?”

“I will never hurt you, Chongyun,” Zhongli rumbles, low and comforting. “But you need not agree to my suggestion. If you say no now, we will speak of it no more.”

“No, I— I’ll do it. I’m sorry, Rex Lapis, I shouldn’t be doubting you like—“

Zhongli interrupts Chongyun’s determined rambling. “There is no reason for you to apologize. In fact, I rather prefer those who can question and defy me when the need arises.” He smiles, gentle, at Chongyun’s wide-eyed expression. “Then, shall we begin?”

Chongyun shuffles forward as some of Zhongli’s draconic features curl up from his hair and out from beneath his cloak, joining the scales that rise to plate his skin. Once Zhongli is cloaked in all his adeptal glory, his hands close lightly over Chongyun’s shoulders— every movement slow and easy to dodge— and he bends down to bring their foreheads together.

A faint stream of gold seeps into the air, but it must appear as far more to Xiao’s eyes if his slight hitch of breath and wandering gaze is any indication. Aether takes Xiao’s hand and finds his own breath catching as well at the borrowed sensation of wonder, and innocence clear as a morning sky.

Chongyun truly is a miracle of the universe.

“This will do,” Zhongli murmurs then, and he releases Chongyun to summon a suit of armor from the far end of the hall. The protection looks to be made more of leather and cloth than metal, each plate thin and flexible, and the whole thing stained with blues and grays and accented in bronze. Strangely enough, however, the gauntlets are heavy, with protection all the way to the fingertips and thick bracing at the wrist. The armor of a claymore wielder, not a mage.

Chongyun accepts the set with reverent slowness and backs away, letting Shenhe take his place. Her selection process is much the same, and Zhongli assigns her a lean, well-polished suit of black hide and silver steel. There are even wing-like flares on the sleeves that could serve as close-range weapons.

There is something trembling and nervous in the bond when Xiao steps forward next, and it feeds Aether’s own worry for him.

“Are you certain, Xiao? The armor you use now will serve you just fine in battle, even if it is not infused with Celestial power,” Zhongli says quietly.

For a moment, Xiao is silent. “…To protect Aether and serve you in this war… I know I will need more strength. New armor is nothing. And…” Xiao’s voice grows almost inaudible. “Your infusions— your powers— feel nothing like Saizhen’s. I can endure, Lord Rex.”

Zhongli’s breath shudders. “…Very well.”

Whatever he does to unweave Xiao’s aura shakes the room and forces Aether and the others to brace themselves against what feels like a shockwave of lightning emanating from Xiao’s body. Ribbons of blinding light spill out in its wake, and Aether stares in awe at the story of all that Xiao is being laid out before him, ignoring the way the radiance scorches and leaves spots in his vision.

It's Xiao, small and terrified and curled up against the tempest, it’s the agony of battle and wretched blight of nightmares eating into his heart, it’s death and swiftness and shadow, it’s a scattering of faint stars that buoy Xiao through the darkest misery, it’s emptiness and power without meaning. A bulwark of amber divides the ocean of Xiao’s being, and from there, the ribbons begin to tell of hope, of strikes that cut through corruption and make things right, of mercy and freedom, of black armor falling away and allowing Xiao to fly, of healing and purity that had never been allowed before, of trust and love and love and love—

Aether can feel his— Xiao’s?— their Heart burning with the effort of giving him sight, tears dripping down his cheeks, but does it really matter? Before him, Xiao opens his arms to accept the lacquered plates of armor, all deep turquoise and midnight blue, banded in gold. Strange patterns are engraving themselves into the chest plate and greaves, none of them with any apparent connection or meaning, but when Zhongli’s power fades from the marks, Xiao traces them with obviously shaking fingers.

“Thank you, Lord Rex,” Xiao whispers, and Zhongli cups a hand around the back of Xiao’s head to bring him close for a short kiss to his brow.

“No, I am the one who must thank you, Xiao. An Archon is nothing without those who are willing to serve them as such, and you have always been among the most faithful of my followers. Every day, I am grateful that you continue to choose me,” Zhongli rumbles.

Xiao nods silently, though his disbelief ripples through the bond, and then— it’s Aether’s turn. He approaches Zhongli while hastily wiping the remaining tear tracks from his face, and Zhongli greets him with the warmth of an old friend. It’s as if they’re Lord Baoshen and Master Aether again, just for a moment, laughing together in the comfortable oasis of the tea house and letting the mortal world pass them by.

“I don’t know what you’ll be able to see from me,” Aether says as he takes Zhongli’s offered hands, those broad, geo-lined fingers closing solidly over his wrists. “But I welcome the attempt.”

“And I am honored by your invitation, child of the stars.”

Zhongli’s fingertips crackle, and Aether closes his eyes as a great, unseen hand reaches into his mind, gently prodding about the barriers that keep Aether firmly separated from the inhabitants of the worlds he visits. It has been a long, long time since either he or Lumine have trusted enough to let anyone though them, and even longer since they have found anyone who might be able to observe what lies behind without falling to madness.

If this works, he should let Xiao properly see as well, Aether decides— and the barrier gives under Zhongli’s next touch.

Aether opens his eyes to the universe of his own mind, the cold sea of stars that have been out of his reach ever since he landed in Teyvat. But even without his powers, Aether is still the ruler of this infinity— and so he is huge and small, everywhere and nowhere, all-encompassing, an echo of the divinity he and Lumine had once been.

There is Zhongli, a tiny speck in the sky even in his earth-born dragon vessel. Aether reaches for him, and although in this realm he doesn’t really have anything that could be called a face or eyes, he still catches the dragon carefully around the back of his neck and lifts him up for a better view.

Zhongli squirms, hard, geo power lashing out only to be absorbed by the eternal vastness, and Aether has to remind himself that creatures of mortal worlds, even if they can comprehend Aether’s mind, cannot help but fear it. Xiao’s Heart pulses deep within him, a sun that pulls Aether into its orbit. Gravity to remind him that this is not the time to leave behind familiar shapes of human thought.

With a moment’s effort, Aether brings together a fissure of light to mark his presence, and Zhongli’s head snaps toward it. At the same time, he releases his grip and instead simply cups his hands beneath Zhongli’s body to keep him from drifting away.

“Aether?” Comes Zhongli’s unsteady thought.

I’m here, Zhongli.

Surprisingly, Zhongli seems to calm at the echo of Aether’s presence turned to words, and he slowly twists about, a little banner of gold under starlight.

“Is this your aura— your mind?” He asks, swimming up a little closer to the beacon Aether had made for him. “You are indeed worthy of awe. Even in my thousands of years, I have never seen…”

Why, thank you. This is the sky beyond the sky. If I had my true powers, the stars would be far closer… and perhaps too blinding to show you.

Zhongli laughs, a rumbling, breathless sound in the void. “I have no chance of unweaving your aura unless you do the work for me. Truthfully, you could probably use whichever suit of armor you like.”

…Perhaps. But I would still be happier if you chose one for me as well.

Idly flicking his tail, Zhongli appears to consider it. “Well, in that case… is there anything of yourself you might allow me to see as a guide for my decision?”

I will show you a memory.

And, pushing back against the place where Zhongli’s consciousness meets his, Aether pours in a trickle of his first experience landing in a new world, sword grip warm in his hand and Lumine at his side. The two young eyes of the universe blinking open with wonder. The solid and steady light with the fierce and fluid darkness.

“Ah.” Zhongli’s sigh echoes through Aether’s mind, and then he is politely tapping against the barrier again, requesting his freedom. Aether grants it.

When he opens his mortal eyes again, he finds Zhongli kneeling on the ground before him, as if his legs had given out from under him even while their hands remained connected. Xiao and Chongyun are hovering over Zhongli, Chongyun’s panic rather more vocal over the sound of Zhongli’s heavy breaths.

Hastily, Aether kneels too, trying to parse out the distant fluctuations he can sense in Zhongli’s aura. It’s so much harder to see things outside of his star form.

“Zhongli?” He asks anxiously.

After a moment, Zhongli’s head lifts, horns and scale-lined cheeks glinting dully in the light. “Why is it that you choose to stay with creatures like us?” He replies, mild, but wondering. “Surely there’s no reason for you to put in such effort caring for and enduring the trials of such infinitesimal existences as ourselves.”

Aether and Lumine had often asked themselves the same, more so after their first and greatest failure, but Aether can only give the same answer he always does.

“Because… I like you. And I’ve never been able to stop myself from wanting to understand how you all burn so bright, even without the stars.”

He can feel Xiao’s confusion across the bond, but there’s no time to explain it when Zhongli proceeds to stand, crossing to a suit of armor just a few steps down the hall and lifting the pieces from their rack with a snap of his fingers. Then, solemnly, he lays the folded pile in Aether’s arms.

Aether stares down at the overlapping plates of gold and dark leather, the heaviest armor any of them had been given, though the pieces are still thin compared to a metal suit. There are a pair of flexible, but iron-toed boots that look like they would reach to his knees, a wide belt, and a gap of fabric around his middle to allow for mobility around the torso plates. A forehead band, also of gold, completes the set, looking more like a crown than any sort of protection.

It's… almost like the armor he’d arrived in and lost after Nantianmen.

“Be sure to try these on later, and I will ensure any necessary adjustments are made before they are worn into battle,” Zhongli says, turning to meet each of their gazes individually, and Xiao and Chongyun back away again, apparently satisfied that their Archon really has recovered. “Now, I just need to see after Childe… And then, I believe,” he continues, smile turning his eyes to warm crescents. “We have a wedding to prepare for.”

Notes:

I was originally going to have the wedding in this chapter, but finals said no, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

you can rip benevolent god!aether out of my cold dead hands--
<3

Chapter 51: Forever

Notes:

I'm alive its a miracle

For those of you who are still here, I finally bring you the long-awaited chapter! I have tentative hope that there will be no more months-long absences until this fic is finished.

TW: Nothing

When they move on from the armor hall, Aether discovers that Zhongli had somehow found the time that morning to decorate an entire, rarely used wing of the palace with all the trappings of a royal wedding— and it is there that he leads them as the noon sun burns its way just past the hottest part of the day.

Ornate chandeliers of geo grace the ceiling, a cloth-covered table sits in the middle of the hall, crimson lanterns and knots of silk hang from an open doorway that leads out to a balcony, and an abstract engraving of a phoenix and a dragon covers the entire wall behind the table. Aether stares around in awe, and yet he gets the feeling that, at least by Zhongli’s standards, this is a small and simple affair.

A trickle of surprise from Xiao meets Aether’s senses, and he looks up in time to see Cloud Retainer, Moon Carver, and Mountain Shaper all descend one after the other onto the balcony.

“Welcome, friends,” Zhongli greets them, and they all bow to varying degrees.

“This is a most joyous occasion,” Cloud Retainer says serenely. “One would not miss the marriage of the Conqueror of Demons to his beloved Heart for the world.”

“Indeed.” Zhongli smiles. “Please, come in.”

“We meet again, Heart Keeper,” Moon Carver says as he approaches Aether. “One is pleased to see you awake and uninjured.”

Aether inclines his head. “Thank you for your help last time, Moon Carver.”

“Think nothing of it. We could never repay you for the healing you brought to Xiao in the darkest hour.”

“Ganyu will arrive soon as well,” Zhongli announces. “So Xiao and Aether, you may begin your preparations whenever you like. Although…” He pauses in his turn toward the door. “It is customary to have each of the betrothed assisted by a member of the other’s family on the day of the wedding. Perhaps they should take the lead instead?”

“There is no need—” Xiao begins, but he is quickly drowned out by Cloud Retainer.

“A most excellent idea,” she says imperiously. “Dear Ganyu shall be assigned to Aether, and as for Xiao…”

Family… Aether speaks past the sting of the word. “I don’t mind, but it’s not as if I have anyone to send in return.”

“I— I’ll do it!” Chongyun blurts out, then cowers when everyone turns toward him. “Um. That is, if I’m allowed to act as someone from Aether’s clan… and if Xiao will put up with me—”

“You would be more than acceptable as a stand-in,” Zhongli says thoughtfully. “Aether? Xiao?”

Aether has no idea why he hadn’t considered it earlier. After all, he does consider Chongyun as family, given the years Chongyun had spent taking care of him without being asked or rewarded, and they’ve even saved each other’s lives. The sting lessens, just a fraction.

“I’d be honored if you took that role,” Aether says quietly, and Chongyun blinks at him, a hopeful smile creeping across his face.

“I have no complaint,” Xiao adds, and Zhongli nods decisively.

“Just in time, Ganyu.”

The clatter of heels on hardwood announces Ganyu’s landing. “Yes, Lord Rex?”

“If it is agreeable to you, Cloud Retainer has suggested that you be Aether’s aide for the ceremonial preparations,” Zhongli explains. “Chongyun will assist Xiao.”

“Oh!” Ganyu’s confusion brightens to excitement. “Of course! I’d love to.” She smiles at Aether, and he makes sure to give her a suitably deep bow in return.

“Then I will see if Childe is ready to return.”

Zhongli sweeps out, and the guardian adepti immediately set about adding even more décor to the hall and bringing a feast of apparently pre-prepared dishes to the table. It’s unnecessarily lavish for an event that will last till sunset at most, especially when their resources could be going to more important things, but Ganyu tugs at Aether sleeve before he can protest.

“This way,” she says, drawing him toward a small side chamber, and after a moment, Aether gives up and follows. He sees Chongyun and Xiao going into a similar room across the hall just before the door closes behind him.

When he turns back to Ganyu, she somehow already has a comb and change of clothes in hand and a terrifying gleam in her eye. “Let’s start with a bath, shall we?”

There’s nowhere for Aether to run.

 

-*-

 

“All done!” Ganyu declares what must be two or three hours later, clapping her hands together. “You look wonderful.”

Shaking out the pins and needles in his legs, Aether stares at himself in the mirror. He’s been scrubbed and moisturized until his skin is practically shining, and there’s an intricate design of red makeup around his eyes. His hair, although it had received as much attention as his body, has been tied up surprisingly simply— Ganyu had only used a simple half-knot and Aether’s two precious hairpins to decorate.

Then there’s his hanfu, with its striking crimson train, gold hems, and fine embroidery. Aether lifts his arms to swish the long sleeves, just because. Some subtle cord-and-jade jewelry hangs at his waist and about his neck, but beyond that, it seems that Ganyu had aimed to keep his normal appearance rather than fully bury him in traditional costume.

“Do you think Xiao will like it?” he asks, mostly just to fill the silence as Ganyu helps him to his feet and brushes out any last wrinkles.

She laughs. “Aether, I think Xiao would be head over heels for you even if you walked out there in an old rice sack.”

“He’s already seen me in something close to that, I’m pretty sure,” Aether says thoughtfully. An old, crudely stitched bedsheet subjected to the wilds of Nantianmen surely hadn’t been flattering, after all.

“Then even less reason to worry.” Ganyu nudges him toward the door. “Let me just check on Xiao and Chongyun, and we’ll start the ceremony. It won’t be too complicated. Just walk down to Lord Rex at the end of the hall with Xiao, and he can tell you what to do from there.” With one last smile, she darts out.

In the stillness she leaves behind, Aether stares down at his perfectly filed nails and wonders at the comparative mundanity of it all when in just a day or two, all Ganyu’s hard work will be ruined by whatever battle arises first. He’d never imagined himself getting married like this, not when he and Lumine never stayed long enough in any world to do so, but still…

Perhaps it was too much to hope that if he ever did have a wedding, it would be in a time of blissful peace.

A soft knock at the door pulls him out of his thoughts, and Aether steps forward just as it opens under Ganyu’s touch. Across the hall, Xiao is being enthusiastically waved out by Chongyun, and when their eyes meet, Aether stops to simply gaze.

Xiao is also dressed in fiery red, although his robes are somewhat shorter and looser than Aether’s— easier to move in. The jade tint to his hair has been expertly tucked into a small knot at the top of his head and little gold threads have been braided in instead, their ends framing Xiao’s face and trailing down his back. The rest of his hair, a shining, raven black, tumbles freely over his shoulders. His horns have been polished and the tips dusted in gold as well, and the scarlet paint around his eyes matches Aether’s.

Who knew Chongyun had this kind of skill?

“So pretty…” Chongyun whispers, and Xiao moves forward, his eyes wide and fixed as if in a trance. Aether meets him in the middle of the hall and takes his hands.

“Hi, Xiao.”

“Aether,” Xiao returns, thick and breathy, and Aether smiles at him as Ganyu titters a little in the background.

“Let’s go.”

 

Before them, the hall stretches all the way down to a sun-shaded balcony, crossed in the middle by the grand room where the tables for the feast and seats for their guests are arranged. As Aether passes though, hand-in-hand with Xiao, he notices that there are a few more people now than he remembers from his arrival.

The pink-haired, snake-scaled adeptus who had met them at the docks after Osial’s sealing is sitting in a chair, eyes sparkling as she leans in to watch. Moon Carver, Mountain Shaper, and Cloud Retainer are all gone— at least, gone as Aether knows them. In their place are three radiant adepti in mortal form, but their auras are enough to reveal their true identities.

Shenhe sits primly beside her mentor, dressed in a fine, red rope-crossed uniform. Childe has arrived as well and is sitting in a chair at the very back, guarded, but not hostile. Then there’s the spry old woman Aether occasionally saw around Yujing Terrace near the end of his time living in Liyue Harbor. He’d known she was immortal, he wouldn’t have guessed she would be this close to Zhongli.

Xiao, too, seems mildly surprised by the new additions to the audience, but in the end, they don’t have time to wonder much— Zhongli is waiting for them on the balcony.

“I’m afraid today’s ceremony will be simple,” he says, adeptal features aglow as Aether and Xiao draw to a stop before him. “but, I hope, no less significant.”

Lifting the bright red cord in his hands, Zhongli gestures for their wrists, Aether’s right and Xiao’s left. “Aether, star traveler, do you accept Xiao as your sacred bond from now until the last breath is drawn? Will you stand by him in sickness and health, failure and success, joy and sorrow? Do you swear to be forever loyal to him?”

“I swear it,” Aether murmurs, and he relaxes his hand as Zhongli begins to loop the cord around his wrist in a complex, decorative knot.

“And do you, Xiao, guardian of Liyue, accept Aether as your sacred bond from now until the last breath is drawn? Will you stand by him in sickness and health, failure and success, joy and sorrow? Do you swear to be forever loyal to him?”

“I swear it a thousand times over,” Xiao whispers, and Zhongli knots the cord around his wrist as well, so he and Aether are firmly tied together.

“Then let all here bear witness to this union, bound by love and vow. May your marriage be blessed without end.” And Zhongli lays his light-suffused hands upon Xiao and Aether’s shoulders— no doubt blessing them himself.

Their small audience applauds, some with more blatant enthusiasm than others, and Zhongli reaches into his sleeve, bringing out a golden necklace to slip over Xiao’s head and a golden bangle to encircle Aether’s free wrist. Traditional at Liyuean weddings, if somewhat old-fashioned, Aether recalls.

“I’m sorry they are such small gifts,” he murmurs. “Perhaps, when this is all over, we will be able to celebrate as you truly deserve.”

“This is more than enough, Zhongli,” Aether says. “You’ve done so much for me and Xiao already. Thank you.”

Xiao echoes the sentiment, and Zhongli shakes his head, but does not argue further.

Then Aether turns to Xiao once more and clasps both their hands together, happy to simply gaze into Xiao’s face, soft and wondering as it is. He doesn’t get long, though— Xiao leans in a moment later, but instead of the kiss Aether had been expecting, Xiao only presses their foreheads together, his nose brushing over Aether’s. They breathe together in the silence, lost in a world of their own as the deepest contentment Aether has ever felt spirals its way down the bond.

He bundles that contentment up in his mind, holds it close and safe, and Xiao’s next exhale comes out shuddering.

“I love you,” Aether says, soft enough that he hopes even the many adeptal ears around them will have trouble hearing it.

Xiao’s only response is something like a whine, but Aether can hear the throb of his Heart clearer than any words.

You are loved, loved, loved.

 

“My most heartfelt congratulations to the newlywed couple,” the pink-haired adeptus says in a strangely announcer-like tone, “but don’t forget, the feast still awaits us! It would be such a shame to let the food go cold now, wouldn’t it?”

Aether and Xiao break apart with a shared gasp, jolted back into reality.

“I suppose it would,” Zhongli says thoughtfully. “In that case, why don’t you go ahead first and prepare places for our newly bonded couple, Yanfei?”

“Ah… yes, Rex Lapis. I’ll take care of it right away.” Hunched in defeat, Yanfei retreats to the grand banquet table deeper in the hall, and the others stand up as well.

“You will be seated at the head, of course,” Zhongli murmurs, gently nudging Aether along. Shaking off the afterglow of Xiao’s joy, Aether kicks himself into motion again, though he keeps his fingers twined with Xiao’s as they walk.

“But isn’t that your seat, Zhongli?”

“Not today. On the day of their wedding, bonded partners shall always hold the highest honor. Not even I would dare to take away from that.”

“Then…”

As they approach, Yanfei gestures them into the two chairs set close enough to touch at the head of the table, a lavish setting and dishes already prepared for each. It takes some maneuvering to actually sit down, Aether discovers— with their hands tied, Xiao is forced to slide into the space between chair and table first, with Aether following right behind him.

Still, they manage, and just about all the others in the room instantly swoop in to serve them. Chongyun eagerly piles their plates high with delicacies, all foods mild and easy to consume. Ganyu and Shenhe pour their drinks— water and wine for now, it seems, with a steaming teapot ready on the side. Yanfei’s Vision flares as she adds extra heat to the dishes meant to be served warm. Mountain Shaper, his reddish-brown hair dancing unnaturally around his shoulders, comes bearing a beautifully arranged platter of almond tofu. Finally, Zhongli himself comes with napkins and little gilded water basins for their fingers, though Xiao trembles when his Archon kneels to arrange everything for them.

When everyone settles down again, there is a pause as all eyes turn to Aether and Xiao. Of course. It’s been a long time since Aether has been able to attend a feast like this.

He taps the gilt of his chopstick against his plate. “Let’s eat.”

Everyone dives in in a flurry of noise and movement, and the room begins to wash a steady gold as the sun sinks low enough to shine through the opening of the balcony. Aether takes a bite of the noodles Chongyun had placed at the front of his plate and hums appreciatively. Well-soaked in some kind of broth, but not too heavy, just the way he likes it.

A flicker of something awed trickles down the bond, and Aether glances over to find Xiao simply staring out over the table with his eyes wide and bright.

“Xiao?”

Xiao lowers his gaze and shakes his head slightly. “Nothing. It’s only… this is the first time I have attended one of Rex Lapis’s feasts, even if most of adepti who would once have been invited are gone now.”

“Really?” Then again, they’ve had meals as a group before, but if Xiao counts a feast as not only the food, but the occasion and celebration as well… “Well, better late than never, right?” Aether says softly.

“…Perhaps so.” Xiao’s eyes grow distant. “If this is the last feast to which I will ever be invited…”

Suddenly cold, Aether grips Xiao’s hand tighter. “Don’t. Don’t talk like that, Xiao. We’re going to make it through this war too— together, this time.”

But Xiao only turns away and takes another hesitant bite of his almond tofu, leaving Aether to worry alone. It’s hard to ignore the lively chatter of the others though, and Aether does his best to lose himself in their cheer. Even if Xiao’s prediction is overly bleak, it is true that they probably won’t be able to gather like this again for a long time.

It helps that Chongyun is right there to ply Aether with dish after dish of his favorites, and Aether stuffs himself to bursting on sweet cakes and noodles and vegetable dumplings.

Once they’re all leaning back in their chairs, full and relaxed, Zhongli brings out a little basket of amber candies, and Aether amuses himself with watching Xiao cautiously lick the sugary crust off the one he is handed. The guardian adepti of Jueyun Karst shift back into their beast forms, apparently more comfortable in fur and feathers than robes, and Ganyu begins to nod off in her seat.

The sun is truly setting by then, the sky flushing with reds and oranges and soft blues, and Aether stares out into the incongruous peacefulness of it all.

“Did you want to watch?” Xiao asks, low, and before Aether can ask what exactly he means, Xiao is pulling them both to their feet and leading the way out the balcony again.

The wind tugs gently at Aether’s hair and robes as he lays a hand on the railing and simply basks in the light. A glance at Xiao’s face reveals him to be— not smiling, exactly, but at ease. Serene.

For now, it’s enough.

They stand there for a long, long time, Aether tracing slow fingers over Xiao’s palm as the sky slowly fades to a deep purple, then moon-silvered darkness. Then Xiao speaks into the stillness.

“I… I am afraid, Aether.”

Aether doesn’t look, but he does squeeze Xiao’s hand tight. “Afraid?”

“Yes. I have never fought the Chi, nor Azhdaha, nor Saizhen, but I know they were all great enough that it was only Lord Rex Lapis who could dare to challenge them, let alone defeat them. And that with armies of adepti behind him. Now…”

That same fear pangs though Aether’s own heart, still an unfamiliar sensation. Once, he could have felled gods, and indeed, whole universes by a flap of his wings and a slash of Lumine’s sword. Now, he must endure the same mortal uncertainty as all others who live with their feet planted on the ground. But he can’t let Xiao hear that.

“It’ll be alright,” Aether says instead. “We’re still strong, and we’ve prepared as much as possible. And this time, you have me to help stave off the burden of karmic debt, right?”

“…Perhaps.”

Now Aether turns to him; reaches out to take both of his hands. “We’re going to make it through this, Xiao. Together. I promise. I have the power to protect both you and myself now, and I’m not going to waste it.”

For a while, Xiao is silent. “…I want to believe you,” he whispers.

Slowly, Aether lifts a hand to Xiao’s cheek and smooths a thumb just below his eye. The red markings there smear under his touch.

“I… would like to show you something. About myself. May I?”

Xiao looks up at him from beneath heavy eyelids. Then he nods.

“Come on, then.”

With a quick glance back at the hall— empty and dark now, of course— Aether swings his legs over the railing, waits for Xiao to do the same, then allows the winds to scoop them out and up to the rooftop. There’s a flat-topped overhang nearby, and Aether makes his way over, the soft clack of Xiao’s feet over tiles following close behind.

“Here will do,” Aether decides, and he lays back against the roof, tugging Xiao down along with him. “Comfortable?”

“Well enough,” Xiao says, fingers twitching restlessly in Aether’s.

“You already know that I’m a traveler of the stars. But I would like to show you what that really means. It’s the same thing Zhongli saw in the armory.”

Xiao’s gaze sharpens upon him. “That caused Lord Rex to collapse?”

“…Yes,” Aether admits. “But that was… I’m not going to hurt you, even for a moment. Please don’t be afraid.”

He shakes under the weight of Xiao’s stare, but after a moment, it relents, and Xiao presses his head against Aether’s shoulder. “I trust you. Show me.”

And Aether burns with how desperately he wishes he could simply bundle Xiao away from the world; shower him the love he so deserves and never allow anything to harm him ever again. Even if such things were possible, however, Xiao surely would not thank him for doing so.

“Then reach for me like you would the bond,” Aether says instead. “And I will let you in.”

Xiao nods and closes his eyes, and Aether feels the feather-light brush over wind over the barriers of his mind, cautious, but warm. He allows the barrier to dissolve and Xiao to push through on his own. Then Aether closes his own eyes.

 

How strange, to have come here twice in a single day when he has gone millennia without so much as touching the realm within himself. But there is no time to ponder it.

Unfolding great hands, Aether reaches for the tiny, silver-spun figure drifting in the void. The bright sun of the Heart within him resonates like a gong, and Xiao trembles as the force of it shakes the stars.

Xiao, love.

Xiao whips around as best he can without purchase on the ground, his eyes wide, teetering on the edge of terrified. “Aether? Aether, please, where—?”

It’s alright, Xiao. This is my realm— this is me. I have no form in this place, but I promise you are safe.

Gently, Aether grasps the tether of the bond and pulls it close against himself, allowing Xiao to feel a trace of the primordial light from which he had been spun. Then, with two more hands, he cradles Xiao’s fragile body and mourns the shadows and scars permanently etched into Xiao’s self— proof of the life he has lived.

Xiao makes a high, faint noise and stretches both hands out into the void, as if seeking to embrace the power he cannot see. Of course Aether bends to him, returning the embrace by enveloping Xiao in the sea of stars. Gently, oh so gently, he strokes over Xiao’s lovely, dark hair and presses a kiss to Xiao’s forehead.

“Aether— you’re—" Xiao’s voice is almost inaudible for its trembling.

Shh, love. There’s no need to force yourself.

“No, I only—” Xiao breathes. “This… this is you?”

This is me.

“Why did you not tell me sooner?”

…I too, was afraid. Furthermore, it has been many eons since it was last safe to show anyone the truth of me, either for my sake or their own.

“But Aether… you are beautiful.” Xiao sounds almost devastated. “I had been allowed to see flickers of it before, but this…”

Aether is stunned to see tears pouring freely down his face. How many times has Xiao shed tears in his presence before, let alone wept like this?

I’m sorry, Xiao. All of this is yours now, so claim it as you wish.

Xiao shakes his head. “That is already done.” He grips his wrist where the red cord ties them in the waking world. “I already have everything I want. I know you will not leave me.”

How Aether loves him.

Yet you still fear?

“…Perhaps you cannot be killed,” Xiao says, gazing, calmly now, at the infinite stars around him. “But we are tied, your divinity is still lost, and my immortality is a mere shadow compared to yours. If I fall…”

You will not. I forbid it. Fate will not take you so long as I am here to grasp the strings.

Xiao only falls silent, eyes glittering silver as he gazes into the place from which Aether gazes at him.

Shall I quiet your mind for a while?

With a slow nod, Xiao curls up in Aether’s hands and nuzzles into the hold Aether has around his nape and head.

Rest, Xiao.

So Xiao does, and with his precious Heart cradled close and safe, Aether, too, allows the void to fade around him…

And he drifts off to sleep.

Notes:

I tried ;.;

Visit my tumblr for a colored version of this art or some bonus hands!

Chapter 52: Fate and Fight

Notes:

VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: Please read!
Recently, I’ve been thinking about taking fic requests/prompts from more than just my betas. If I were to start doing that, would anyone be interested? Please see full details on my Tumblr.
 

Requests now available! Thank you for the responses!

 

TW: None, I hope

When Aether opens his eyes again, he’s warm to the point of stuffiness, his head is resting on something soft and moving, and a low purring sound is rumbling through the air. They’re in Zhongli’s nest, though how they’d gotten from the rooftop to here without waking up at all is still a mystery.

Aether lifts his head off Xiao’s chest and looks around. As usual, Zhongli has draped his body around the nest so as to leave a safe hollow in the middle for everyone to sleep in. This time, however, it truly is everyone. The three guardian adepti, Chongyun and Shenhe, Ganyu, Yanfei with a small hawk with blue-tinted feathers— Madame Ping?— nestled against her back, Childe sleeping beside Zhongli’s head, and— is that Venti, curled up under his own green cape?

Setting aside his surprise for a moment, Aether turns his attention to Xiao. The two of them have been set slightly apart from the others in the curl of Zhongli’s tail, and Xiao’s arms are clasped around Aether’s waist. Accordingly, the promise cord that had bound them has been untied, and is instead wrapped loosely around one of Xiao’s arms. They’re still in the hanfu they’d worn for the wedding, but someone has wiped the makeup from their faces, and the jewelry and ribbons they’d been wearing have disappeared.

It seems probable that Zhongli, wanting all of his hoard together, had carried them back here and simply let Xiao latch onto Aether as he pleased.

Carefully, Aether extricates himself first from Xiao’s grasp, then the pile of sleepers around him, and tiptoes his way out of the room. He looks around. Where to find a quiet place to meditate… one of the small, empty tearooms in the adjacent wing should do. If the first of the Archon contenders could break free at any moment, then this might very well be the last day they have to prepare. Aether, too, wants to be as ready as possible.

The thought strikes him as he settles down on a nice, soft cushion that now might also be the last chance he’ll have of finding Lumine for a while, especially if the land will be as covered in obscuring darkness and miasma as Xiao predicts.

Aether stretches out his senses with the next exhale, reaching and reaching across the land, the farthest he’s ever been able to see since landing in Teyvat— but still, there is nothing. How is that possible? He must be able to feel even into the borders of Mondstadt and Sumeru by now, and yet…

Once again, he is faced with the possibility that Lumine had landed outside of Liyue, or that Aether had been sleeping longer than he’d first assumed and Lumine has long moved on to other nations without him.

But that mysterious god had flung them down together, and Aether had felt Lumine’s presence up until the very last moment, so it seems impossible that Lumine would have ended up far from him. And if she had woken up first… why hasn’t she come to look for Aether, and how did she compensate for the power they’d both lost? Could she have found a Xiao of her own?

Aether shakes his head, hard. Whatever the case, Lumine isn’t here now, and once again, Aether has neither the time nor the freedom to go rampaging across the other nations in search of her.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

 

--

 

“I’m afraid we must move quickly today,” Zhongli says once everyone has gathered in the great hall before him. “Thanks to Ganyu’s efforts, the area around Qingce has been readied for battle, but Liyue Harbor must still be fortified, and any mortals who live or work beyond the walls must be brought inside for safety. Venti, you said you and your people are prepared to guard as far as Stone Gate and Mingyun?”

“Your Wangshu Inn will be our border and outpost,” Venti agrees, no trace of humor in his voice today.

“I am grateful, friend. Lord Rukkhadevata has also sent word that she is willing to defend not only her border, but the Chasm and Tianqiu Valley as well. The Hydro Archon has chosen to remain impartial, but the help we have is already more than I could’ve hoped for.” Zhongli surveys them all again, exhaustion shadowing his eyes. “For those of you who do not or no longer owe your service to me, I hope you will forgive me for acting as general one last time.”

“Even if we signed no contract, you are still our Archon, and the illuminated God of War,” Yanfei says simply. “Following you is the most logical decision I can see.”

“Thank you,” Zhongli says. “Then… here is what must be done. Chongyun?”

“Yes, Lord Rex Lapis!”

“Please travel with me to the Harbor, then seek your friend Xingqiu. Loathe as I am to involve those who are not soldiers in this fight, he is strong, and more importantly, has had the chance to grow accustomed to training and living alongside us. I would like you to ask him to serve as a bodyguard of sorts, as you will be irreplaceable to us in a war against so much divine corruption, but I cannot spare other warriors to guard you specifically. Do not force him, however.”

“I… don’t think that will be a problem,” Chongyun says, subdued.

“I will then be making an announcement to all the people of Liyue, at which time I will also mark those of you who need it with the authority to act as an extension of my will. It is not necessary to be present for this, however, so simply pray to me regarding the results of your request to Xingqiu, then move on to meet Shenhe.”

“What is my duty?” Shenhe asks.

“I believe you will be most effective in weaving a purification barrier all around the Harbor. Start this, and Chongyun and others will join you later.”

“Understood.” She strides out without another word.

Zhongli turns to Xiao and Ganyu next. “As the two of you have the ability to travel swiftly, please go to these villages and outposts”— he holds out an ink-marked map— “and send or bring the people you find there to Liyue Harbor. Some areas will be defended by Venti or Rukkhadevata, so they may be ignored for now. After that, Ganyu, please return to the Liyue Qixing, and Xiao, seek out Aether.”

“What would you like me to do?” Aether asks, bending his head.

Zhongli takes what appears to be a very slow and cautious breath. “If you are still willing to honor me with your assistance… I would ask you to you to visit the Tianquan Ningguang and inform her of all she needs to know regarding the approaching war. Then please oversee preparations for the wall defense with Xiao.”

Easy enough. Speaking to Ningguang should also give Aether a chance to observe the fallout of Osial’s unsealing on the Fatui and Liu Clang. “Done.”

“Mountain Shaper, Moon Carver, Cloud Retainer, and Streetward Rambler… no, Ping. If you would cast the strongest possible barrier over Jueyun Karst so we may have a safe place to recover in and retreat to if necessary, that would ease some of my worry. Once you are finished, please place traps and wards as close as possible— do not harm yourselves— to each of the Archon seals.”

“One will begin immediately,” Moon Carver says, and the four adepti sweep out of the hall.

“Yanfei… you have many connections within the Harbor, yes? Please gather as much material help as possible for the wall defense, and perhaps find other warriors or Vision wielders who would be willing to fight.”

“I already have some ideas,” Yanfei says, a gleam entering her eye. “Starting with Miss Hu Tao.”

Zhongli sighs. “Do as you must.”

So Yanfei trots out too, and Ganyu catches Xiao’s arm.

“I hate to pull you away from Aether, but we should start as well. This may take a while.”

Xiao shakes his head. “You are correct.” He turns back to Aether one last time though, so Aether leans in to kiss him on the tip of the nose.

“Travel safe, Xiao.”

Aether is delighted to see the tiniest hint of pink flush up Xiao’s cheeks before he departs with Ganyu.

“I’ll head back to Mondstadt, then. Lots to organize, especially with half the Knights of Favonius out on expedition,” Venti says, cape fluttering behind him as he hops up to the nearest open window.

“Thank you, Venti. I will send word the moment Azhdaha breaks free.”

The winds whisk their Archon away, and that leaves just Aether, Zhongli, Chongyun, and a very uncomfortable-looking Childe standing in the great hall.

Zhongli faces his bonded. “I… will give you a choice,” he starts wearily. “As you are no longer welcome in Liyue Harbor on your own, you may travel with me when I make my announcement to the people. They will see you at my side, and perhaps come to tolerate your presence if they see you serving me. If this is unpalatable, however, you may remain in the palace and continue to practice mastering your Vision on your own. Finally…” and here Zhongli closes his eyes, “I could put on you a… leash of sorts, which I would give to Aether, and you would then be free to find your family and personally ensure their safety in the Harbor. As long as you keep out of sight, of course.”

Childe stares at him with brows creased and lips parted, and Aether shifts uneasily. To be seen as Zhongli’s pet, to be left all alone with a Vision he hates, or to be collared and sent to face the family he fears… all things Childe has ardently been fighting against since he arrived here.

“I… what if I don’t want to do any of those?”

“Then what do you suggest?” Zhongli asks gently.

Childe opens his mouth. Closes it, expression crumpling. “I guess there’s nothing I can do in the city, huh? And you— everyone will be busy all day…”

“I’m sorry, Childe.”

Silence, as everyone solemnly waits for Childe’s answer.

“Then…” Childe’s shoulders slump. “I choose to go to my family.”

“Very well,” Zhongli says. “I will make this as simple as possible.”

Childe drags his feet over to Zhongli’s side, tipping his head down to expose his neck— but Zhongli reaches not for his nape, but for the small of his back. Light flashes and Childe yelps, a shudder visibly rattling through his body. Zhongli then gestures to Aether, and when Aether holds out his hand as requested, Zhongli etches the character for ‘bind’ into his palm. It glows for a moment, then fades.

“Done. Childe, I will bring you to your family’s village, then continue on to the Harbor with the others. If you find yourself in need… it would be best to use the leash to seek help from Aether first, as I may be trapped in my duties.”

“I understand,” Childe says quietly. “Aether… if my family doesn’t… if they decide they don’t need my help…”

“I’ll come get you right away,” Aether promises.

 

-*-

 

An official written order from Rex Lapis and Aether’s own newfound fame get him past the guard beneath the Jade Chamber much faster than the last time he’d tried, but Aether can’t afford to indulge in the satisfaction of it. Pushing open the doors to the chamber with solemn purpose, he is greeted by the sight of Ningguang, Lady Keqing, and a silver-haired man who must be the Tianshu all gathered together.

“Oh! It’s you…” Lady Keqing starts, but she is quickly overrun by Ningguang.

“Aether. I presume you have answers for me.”

Aether raises a brow and tucks away Zhongli’s order of passage. “I’m sure I have some. But tell me your questions first and I’ll see what I can do.”

 

The Fatui had all fled the city, he learns, not immediately after Osial’s attack, but still swiftly enough that Ningguang suspects foul play beyond Childe’s actions. She’s right, Aether tells her, and it doesn’t take long to explain the matter of the Tsaritsa’s visit and the Archon seals that are about to break. Laying out Zhongli’s plan of defense and the assistance from other nations naturally follows.

“This is most troubling indeed,” the Tianshu says, stroking his chin. “Repairs are not yet complete after the crisis with the Vortex, and many are still reeling from the tragedies that struck that night.”

“Only a day or two more, you said?” Lady Keqing adds quietly. “There’s no time to waste, then. I’ll organize a few teams to take over the tasks Rex Lapis assigned to his court.”

Aether laughs a little at that. Court— what a grand name for their tiny, scattered group of strays. Oddly powerful strays, but nonetheless.

“I mean no disrespect to the divine, of course, and we are indebted to you for your help. But leave the city to us, and focus on fighting the battles we can’t,” Keqing finishes.

Aether offers her a small bow of acknowledgement. “Some of our help is non-negotiable, I’m afraid. The demons that caused this city such grief during the last attack will almost certainly make a reappearance, and I’ve learned that holding them at bay requires the knowledge of exorcists.”

“Should we perhaps not have been so hasty in our purging of the Liu clan exorcists?” the Tianshu muses.

Aether shakes his head. “I may be biased, but I truly believe they would have been little help in this situation. Their expertise only stretched as far as small curses and hauntings, and as we saw when Osial attacked, many of their so-called warriors were simply being carried by the weight of the Liu name, rather than their own skills.”

“Furthermore,” Ningguang says, “although I am no saint when it comes to what must be done to protect this city, I do not regret seeing them brought to justice for what they did to a child of their own.”

“Indeed,” the Tianshu sighs. “What is done is done, then. I will leave first to prepare the Millelith.”

“And I’ll start by spreading word to the other Qixing. Pardon me as well.” Keqing bows and flickers out the door in a burst of electro.

Aether watches her disappear, then turns back to Ningguang. “What did happen to the Liu clan in the end?”

“Their estate was repossessed,” she says serenely. “And given to the people of Liyue who had suffered the damage or loss of their homes in the battle. Their right to act without Qixing-approved oversight was also revoked, and the entire clan was subject to an investigation to ensure that no others had faced the same treatment as your friend.” Ningguang’s gaze turns steely. “The results were not so pretty, unfortunately. But they should be causing no more trouble in this city.”

“I’m glad to hear it… and I’m sure Chongyun will be too,” Aether says. “On behalf of Lord Rex Lapis, I thank you for your leadership and cooperation, Ningguang. I’ll see you again soon, I’m sure.”

To his surprise, rather than offering a traditional farewell in return, Ningguang approaches and lays gentle hands upon Aether’s shoulders. “Be safe, Aether. I would not be pleased to save Liyue Harbor only to lose you.”

Aether smiles at her, laying his own hand on her wrist. “Don’t worry. Someone very important is already holding me to that.”

 

--

 

Zhongli is just descending from the sky in a glorious, golden spiral when Aether sets out for his next task, and as he pushes his way through the crowds rushing toward Yujing Terrace, the promised mark of authority descends too.

Aether stares into the nearest ornamental pool when a hum of geo encircles his forehead; feels cautiously along the glowing circlet of amber that manifests there. The power it radiates is unmistakable, enough that many in the crowd around him stop to gawk, despite having yet to hear Zhongli’s announcement for themselves.

Hopefully, they’ll all know to recognize it soon. Aether carries on toward the wall.

 

--

 

He’s gotten all the way within earshot of his assignment and the soldiers that scramble around it, when there’s a sharp tug at the mark on his palm. Startled, Aether lifts his hand to stare. The golden light the seal radiates pulses erratic and strong, a clear sign of Childe’s emotions in flux… yet the energy behind it isn’t frantic.

Should he go or not?

“What is it, Childe?” Aether murmurs, rubbing his thumb over the mark. If he turns around now, he will surely miss Xiao’s arrival, but he also has no intention of breaking his promise to Childe.

Abruptly, the pull vanishes, and the mark starts to crumble— not entirely, but enough to imply that Childe had erased some of its strength himself. And that could only have been possible if…

If he had personally begun to grasp the power Zhongli had given him.

That definitely isn’t something Aether can just brush off. Sending a brief pulse of apology to Xiao, Aether ignores the nearby stares and gasps as he swings himself up onto the nearest rooftop and sprints after the pull of the tether.

 

--

 

Aether finally finds the source of the pull halfway across Liyue Harbor, and he comes to a stop at the crest of an old wall watchtower. Childe is sprawled in the shadows of a quiet, rarely trafficked field just outside the wall, his family clustered around him. On his head, the spiral horn he’d earned from his bond with Zhongli is out in full view, and a spray of small cor lapis crystals have popped out of the ground around him.

No doubt the undoing of Zhongli’s adeptal concealment had also shredded the leash Aether holds.

Childe’s smallest siblings, Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon, have climbed on top of him to ooh and ahh at his horn, while his mother stands protectively over all of them, arms akimbo. None of them seem to be in any particular distress, so Aether only watches from afar.

Clearly, Childe’s family had been on the move to the city— a rickshaw-like cart piled high with their belongings rests to one side, and one of the brothers is wearing the matching harness. Had Childe guided them here, or had his family caught him following them on the road? The way everyone is acting suggests the latter.

Childe speaks to his family with words just a little too faint for Aether to hear, and after a while, shakes off his brothers and sisters to sit upright. The oldest girl— Alyona, had the mother called her?— and her fellow elder siblings seem more cautious, but she still kneels down at Childe’s side to press a hand over the scars exposed by his rolled-up sleeve.

It doesn’t seem as though they see a monster, or if they do, they surely aren’t afraid of it.

With a snap of his fingers, Aether sends down a little spark of light to catch Childe’s attention, and he waves from his perch when Childe’s head snaps up. With wide eyes, Childe offers him a hesitant wave in return, then reaches around to his lower back, likely reminded of the tether.

Of course, his family members look around and up as well, and Aether waves at them too before falling back out of sight in a burst of anemo.

All is well here, and Childe may even be on the path to gaining control over his new powers. Time to return to Xiao.

 

-*-

 

It is a relief to have his strength returned in full, Xiao decides as he ferries terrified humans on the wind away from their villages and fields and sets them down in the outskirts of Liyue Harbor. It surprises him, however, that despite their fear, the people have yet to raise a hand against him— some of them are even grateful when Xiao shortly explains the coming catastrophe.

Still, his task takes longer than expected, and he fears that he will miss Aether’s arrival at the harbor wall— until a faint apology and impression of Childe’s distress creeps down the bond. It seems that not all has gone as planned for Aether either. Xiao can finish his duties as intended.

--

Later, as he approaches the outer wall, Xiao startles when Lord Rex’s power curls around his skin and solidifies to a ring over his brow. This must be the sign that Xiao is to be trusted as Lord Rex’s servant… but why has it been given to Xiao? Surely Lord Rex does not expect him to lead humans in the way Aether or Ganyu might.

Still, the symbol has been granted, and Xiao is hardly about to take it off.

 

From atop the half-crumbled wall on which he lands, Xiao searches the swarming humans for Aether’s familiar light; finds it mingled with a gathering of what appear to be healers. Cautiously, Xiao approaches, people scrambling out of his path as he passes by.

“Lady Keqing plans to send a few assistants with each of you so each portion of the wall is fully defended. However, this is unlikely to be an easy fight for anyone.” Aether is saying.

“This soon after the Overlord of the Vortex caused such damage…” murmurs a woman with deep shadows under her eyes.

“What of supplies?” A younger-looking humans asks.

“Also to be provided by the Qixing, along with payment for you all. I understand it is small compensation for your task, but there has been little time to prepare. Lady Ningguang has promised to do her utmost in offering future rewards to those who do their part to defend Liyue now.”

“The incentive of ‘fight back or be destroyed’ is already more than enough,” an old man grunts. “But I suppose I wouldn’t say no to something a little shinier.”

The healers begin to disperse, and Aether unerringly turns to face Xiao, the circlet of amber in his own hair glinting. “You made it,” he says softly.

“My task was simple.”

“I’m glad.” Aether pauses. “Actually, this is perfect. Do you remember the day I asked you if you had given your power to anyone else in the Harbor? I’d like you to meet the reason I thought that.”

The jolt of the accusation dies a mercifully swift death to Aether’s sweet voice, and Xiao takes an even breath. “Show me.”

Aether gestures to the left, and Xiao follows him the few steps over to a man with long, jade-bright hair and a slender, almost sickly body.

“Qiqi?” Aether calls, and Xiao blinks— until a small head appears from behind the first man’s legs.

“Qiqi, go,” the girl— no, the jiangshi— commands herself, and Xiao falls very, very still.

A dark cave and a painful battle, a still, cold body and a life that could not be restored. Menogias’s gruff words and Lord Rex’s calming hands.

“You,” Xiao barely manages to scrape out, his voice shaking.

Aether kneels down. “Qiqi, thank you again for your help. This is Xiao. Do you recognize him?”

The little jiangshi hooks a finger in her lip. “Qiqi… does not know. Is Xiao… important?”

Aether smiles, but it looks sad. “Perhaps not. But you are important to him, I think.”

After a moment, tiny footsteps trot over and stop directly before Xiao.

“Qiqi… does not know Xiao. But it is good… to greet people. Qiqi learned that.” And she holds out a crumpled little medicinal flower, its purple petals drooping, but still clinging determinedly to the stem.

Slowly, Xiao opens his hand to take it. It is not an offering, but he reaches out in return anyway, laying a palm over the jiangshi’s silvery hair and breathing into her the softness of a blessing. A wish for her wellbeing.

“I’ve finished my preparations,” the jade-haired man says then, his gaze sharp and curious upon Xiao. “Come on, Qiqi. It’s time to go.”

Qiqi ducks out from under Xiao’s touch with a quiet, “Qiqi, follow.” And then they are gone.

“Who is she to you?” Aether asks quietly, edging up beside him as Xiao stares after the pair.

“I… she died to my hand. Because I was falling. Because I was careless. And I could not bring her back to life,” Xiao croaks.

Aether’s hand folds over his, the bond spilling over with sorrowful understanding. Together, they move on too.

 

--

 

The air around the walls thrums with a power so thick and bright, it becomes difficult even to breathe while walking along their length. Chongyun and Shenhe have done an admirable job with the purification seals, even before Xiao and Lord Rex’s reinforcement.

More and more humans had arrived to take up defensive positions as the day wore on, and Xiao’s unease had risen to match. These crowds are different from the ones he had encountered the day Aether had taken him around the city. Now, every eye is upon him and Lord Rex’s mark upon his head, and voices clamor with questions and directions. It is only Aether’s presence at his side that keeps Xiao from fleeing entirely.

Their duty is soon to be over, however, and some of the others have already returned to Lord Rex’s palace. Xiao hopes to join them.

“This should be enough,” Aether murmurs. “We’ll come back tomorrow if we have the chance, and if not… I trust Ningguang to handle it.” He offers a shallow bow to the frantically obsequious solider he’d just assisted in placing counteroffensive weaponry. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Xiao has no argument, and without wasting another moment, he pulls both of them onto the path of shadow, holding Aether’s hand tight until they step out before Lord Rex.

They’re standing on a grassy plateau of sorts, high enough in the mountains that one may survey the entire Harbor— but Lord Rex’s gaze rests not on the city, but rather on some faraway point beyond the horizon.

“Well done,” Lord Rex rumbles as Xiao and Aether arrive. “I am indebted to the both of you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aether murmurs. “What are you thinking about, Zhongli?”

“Thinking about…? Perhaps nothing at all. It has become troublingly difficult to endure the weight of corruption upon the earth”— Xiao can’t stop the soft noise that escapes his throat— “and I am glad that at least life-born adepti like Xiao may escape it for now.”

“You should go back to the palace, then,” Aether suggests, laying a hand on Zhongli’s scales. “Spend some time with me or Chongyun.”

Zhongli sighs. “I will. But there are some final preparations that must be made at Wangshu Inn.”

“Let me take care of it,” Aether says immediately. “Just tell me what needs to be done.”

“…the keeper of the inn should already have been informed of most things— as I understand it, her knowledge is the Tianquan’s, and the Tianquan’s is hers— but like at the Harbor, I would like to ensure that all defenses are properly prepared. Those stationed there should also be allowed a final chance to request assistance or information from us.”

“It shall be done, Lord Rex,” Xiao says, bowing his head. “I will go with Aether.”

Lord Rex turns one great amber eye toward him, earnest. “Are you certain, Xiao? You have already worked hard enough for today.”

“I am your servant, Lord Rex. Nothing you ask of me will be too much.”

“And besides,” Aether breaks in. “If anyone needs to be ready for battle at any moment, it’s you, Zhongli. Go and rest. We’ll rejoin you soon.”

 

-*-

 

Wangshu Inn is noticeable from far beyond the boundaries of the marsh, not only for its own height, but also for the huge, glowing dragon that now sits perched upon the roof.

“That must be one of the Mondstadt’s Four Winds?” Aether says as he and Xiao arrow in from the sky and the dragon lifts its head to watch them.

Xiao nods, so Aether floats cautiously forward to the dragon’s head. “Greetings, guardian of Mondstadt. Xiao and I are messengers from the Geo Archon, here to ensure your forces have everything they need for the upcoming battle.”

“Hmm… greetings, honored messengers,” the dragon says in a deep, sonorous voice. “I am Dvalin, and I require no assistance. However, Lord Barbatos may be found within this building, or the Knights of Favonius in the camps below.”

“Thank you, Dvalin,” Aether says, laying a hand over his chest. “Excuse us, then.”

 

It seems Xiao had frequented this inn in the days before Aether came back to heal him, because he brings them around the building and down to an empty top-floor balcony without hesitation. Inside, the inn is lantern-lit and cool with dusk, and they descend the stairs to the next level.

This room is also empty, save for a reception desk and the cat and woman behind it. She looks up from her writing, but does not seem otherwise surprised to see two visitors coming down from the highest floor without having gone up.

“Good evening,” she says. “We’ve been waiting from word from the Geo Archon.”

Aether raises a brow. Human and mortal as far as he can tell… but clearly this woman serves a far greater role than mere innkeeper. “Is that information to be delivered to you?”

But the woman— ‘Verr Goldet’, reads her nametag— shakes her head. “All news finds its way to my ears eventually, so I won’t waste your time. The leaders of the Mondstadtian army are meeting on the deck below.”

 

So down the long spiral of stairs they go, Xiao tensing at Aether’s side as the sounds and smells of a crowd grow more tangible as they approach. Xiao has been pushed to his social limits enough for today, Aether decides— so he looks around for someone set apart from the hustle and bustle who might still have the authority they need.

A man with deep blue hair and a captain’s insignia on his shoulder catches Aether’s eye, and he swings himself over the railing to the lowest platform to investigate.

“Excuse me,” he calls. “Would you happen to be with the Knights of Favonius?”

The man turns, revealing dark skin, an eyepatch over the right side of his face, and uniform collar that rises all the way up to just beneath his jaw. “Why, yes I am. Cavalry-less Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, Kaeya, at your service! You’ve picked a bad time to ask for any favors, I’m afraid.”

Well, that was easy. “No, we’re not looking for a favor. Rather, we were hoping to offer your people some help.”

“Oh?” Kaeya says. “Pardon my forwardness, but who might you be to offer that kind of thing right before a battle so desperate that the Archon of Liyue even summoned forces from other nations to face it?”

“Fair enough. My name is Aether, and I’m a… servant, I suppose, of Rex Lapis’s court. This is Xiao, one of the guardian adepti of Liyue. We’ve been sent to ensure that you and yours are fully prepared before the fighting begins.”

“How kind of you! I’d have to ask our Grand Master to be sure, of course, but Wangshu Inn has provided wonderfully both as a point of defense and a supply station. Our strategy has been prepared as well thanks to a missive from Lord Barbatos,” Kaeya says easily. “All is well here. Continue on with your duties.” He waves a hand, and for some reason, Xiao lurches in place, as if about to cover Aether’s body with his own.

Alarmed, Aether finally takes in the stiffness of Xiao’s shoulders and the unwavering fix of his gaze upon Kaeya. There is unease in the bond, but with how unhappy Xiao had been about the crowd to begin with, Aether hadn’t noticed anything off.

“Alright then,” he says hastily. “Speak to the innkeeper if anything comes up, I’m sure she’ll have a way of contacting us.”— What was the traditional farewell of Mondstadt, again?— “Let the wind lead, Sir Kaeya.”

“Best of luck to you as well, Aether, Xiao.” The corners of Kaeya’s mouth tick upward in a smile that suggests he is always just this side of teasing.

He walks away, and Aether immediately catches Xiao by the shoulders, trying to meet his shifting eyes. “Xiao, what’s wrong?”

“…That human…” Xiao starts quietly. “His aura feels much as Childe’s did before the demon was purged from him. The energy is weaker, but…”

Another victim of Ley Line corruption? Aether frowns, staring after Kaeya as if anything could be determined by the set of his shoulders and length of his stride. “…He seems stable for now, so we may have to address it some other time,” Aether says reluctantly. “Let’s do one last check of the area, then head back.”

Xiao nods, some of the tension bleeding from his body, and they climb back up the stairs to the highest empty balcony. The watery landscape of Dihua Marsh sprawls out before them, and Aether stares toward the approximate directions from which each fallen Archon contender will emerge. Surrounded by rivers and mountains as this place is, it should be easily defensible, especially with the help of a dragon.

With a sigh, he leans against the railing, trying to calm the anxious flutter in his Heart. Beside him, Xiao stands ramrod-straight, statuesque in the moonlight, and every day, Aether wonders more and more how the legends told in Liyue could have regarded Xiao as nothing more than a cruel, ugly beast of slaughter.

Slowly, he slides his hand down the railing to curl his fingers over Xiao’s scarred ones. “Xiao…” he breathes, and Xiao’s lovely golden eyes flicker down to him.

 

The planks beneath Aether’s feet suddenly begin to rattle, and for a moment, he can deceive himself into thinking it’s nothing more than one of the normal earthquakes that inevitably plague a land of stone. But then Xiao sinks down to a fighting stance, breaths suddenly harsh against the air, the shaking intensifies, and darkness explodes against the edge of Aether’s senses.

A sound like a wordless scream echoes from far over the mountains, and now Xiao’s spear glitters to life in his hands. Aether, too, draws his sword against the unseen threat and takes to the air just a moment behind his bonded.

Their time, it seems, is up.

Azhdaha has awoken.

Notes:

Bet you weren't expecting that one, huh?
Feel free to imagine "Lover's Oath" getting interrupted by "Rage Beneath the Mountains" at the last scene there lol

Again, I would hugely appreciate any responses to the announcement at the top of the chapter! Thank you all for reading <3

Chapter 53: To Arms

Notes:

Thank you for the responses on the last chapter, everyone!

Now, get ready for BIG FROG TIME!

TW: Some war violence, the mortifying ordeal of being known

It is fortunate that they had prepared for the worst before setting out from Lord Rex’s palace in the morning, for there is no time to return now.

At first, they see only a whisper of darkness, but the miasmas and shades move swiftly, and soon he and Aether are soaring over not just a few scattered remnants, but entire armies of Azhdaha’s hatred and rage. Their very presence grates against Xiao’s senses, and desperately, he tries to plunge; to do the duty that has been his for a thousand years now— but an unshakable hand on his wrist yanks him back, and Xiao hisses at Aether before his mind can catch up to his actions.

“I know, Xiao,” Aether says, aching. “I know, and I’m sorry. But this is why we moved everyone to Liyue Harbor and called for help from other nations. Leave the shades to them. Our duty is to Rex Lapis now.”

So Xiao squeezes his eyes shut and allows Aether to lead them onward, skimming over the mountains then diving to the valley of Nantianmen. The land had grown lush in the years of lull without war, but now all life has been purged again. The ground is scorched with corruption, the bodies of small animals lie twisted and broken in the dust, and the air is almost too heavy to breathe.

Aether makes a soft, wounded noise when he sees it all, but his pace never slows.

Together, they burst into the clearing of the spirit tree— or rather, the clearing where the spirit tree had once stood. Now it is splintered as if by lightning, and Azhdaha and Lord Rex trample over the ruins as they battle.

Every attack releases a shockwave strong enough to blow Xiao and Aether back, and for this final, short distance, Xiao dares to use the energy needed to warp them both directly beneath the shield that covers Chongyun and Xingqiu.

“Aether! Vigilant Yaksha!” Xingqiu cries when they appear, but he doesn’t so much as twitch from Chongyun’s side. Chongyun, for his part, seems to be lost in meditation, a furrow etched between his brows. The air around him is pure and clear, and Xiao inhales deep.

“What do we need to know, Xingqiu?” Aether asks briskly.

Admirably, Xingqiu answers with barely a moment of hesitation. “Lord Rex Lapis brought me and Chongyun here the instant Azhdaha broke free, leaving Childe behind. Lady Ganyu has positioned herself on the opposite cliffside to best hold those… demon creatures back from Lord Rex Lapis’s fight. The three noble guardian adepti are defending the border of Jueyun Karst… I fear they will not be otherwise joining us. I was told only to defend Chongyun to my last breath, which I would have done no matter what… but I’m beginning to understand why Lord Rex Lapis was so insistent.”

Xingqiu stares out through the barrier and to the devastation beyond, his sigil-marked sword shifting in his grip.

“It is only because of Chongyun that we may fight in this place at all,” Xiao agrees. “Aether, we will join Ganyu. Stay close.”

“Understood,” Aether says obediently, and, bracing himself for the pain, Xiao leads them into the fray once more.

 

--

 

In some ways, it is as if Xiao has returned to the days of fighting under Saizhen’s command— the brutal clash of Archons’ powers overhead, the endless waves of draff, be they adepti or demons, the splatter of blood and sludge off Xiao’s blade, and the knowledge that, even if he comes out of this battle alive, nothing awaits him but another slaughter, then another after that.

Not everything is the same. Xiao’s Heart is safe in Aether’s chest, for one, he has allies who would do their very best to save him should Xiao fall, and the god he serves now is one for whom he would willingly sacrifice himself if the need arose. But still, he burns and bleeds and sinks under the weight of karmic chains, and the agony of war comes back to him, piece by jagged piece.

Though the mask at Xiao’s hip has been nothing more than an ornament since Aether had taken his Heart, he puts it on now, a shield against his own body and a reminder of the peace he must leave behind.

Just as promised, Aether stays close to Xiao’s side despite the impracticality of it, and he is wonderful and swift and merciless to every scrap of corruption that crosses his path.

There had been no time to practice the exorcisms that Xiao had promised to teach him, so the battlefield becomes their training hall. It is far from ideal, yet Aether needs only copy Xiao’s words and motions a few times before he is off performing each fully fledged exorcism on his own. Is this the power of the being Xiao had been permitted to witness in all their glory just the night before?

“MORAX!” Azhdaha roars, and the earth cracks beneath his rage. “You have abandoned me, taken the throne, and still you are not satisfied? I will destroy you.”

“Erosion had consumed you whole, Azhdaha!” Lord Rex cries, even as he buries his opponent under stone. “And the corruption followed not long after. I could not let you destroy all that we had created.”

Azhdaha only roar again wordlessly, and the two gods crash back together like thunder and quake.

 

The battle drags on, each clash over in a moment, yet strung together to build an eternity. When Xiao feels Aether’s strength beginning to fail, he banishes him to Chongyun’s sanctuary, and Aether goes after only a breath of hesitation. Without another warrior to guard his back, Xiao surrenders his part of the valley to the miasma and drifts closer to Ganyu to assist her in clearing the way for Lord Rex.

Aether has upheld his agreement with Xiao in this fight. So Xiao, too, must protect himself as he had promised.

Under the darkness of miasma, there is no way to determine the passage of time, and Xiao only know that Aether appears at his side, then returns to Chongyun again in shorter and shorter intervals as exhaustion takes its toll. A flash of ice-infused hydro lingers in Xiao’s peripheral vision— Xingqiu must be fulfilling his duty as well.

It is during a period when he has Aether’s heaving back against his that Xiao realizes the flow of shades and demons around them is thinning. It seems the first great wave of darkness that had poured out with Azhdaha’s release has now been spent, the monsters within destroyed or dispersed beyond Nantianmen. The time to strike is now.

“Go!” Ganyu yells from her perch above, and flowers of piercing ice clear the path for Xiao as he arrows forward, spear locked before him as he plunges it into Azhdaha’s back. The stone dragon howls, and Xiao is shaken off immediately—but he lands safely, and the damage has been done.

Weakened and stunned, Azhdaha is forced back under Lord Rex’s ichor-stained claws, and now Chongyun is up and moving forward, each step pushing back the miasma and bringing pure light to brush over Azhdaha’s scales.

“NO!” Azhdaha thrashes with all the desperation of a creature who knows its final moments are near, tearing open across Lord Rex’s face and chest gashes that rapidly well with ichor.

“Xiao, again!” Lord Rex calls, rearing away from the onslaught, and Xiao lunges in to slash at Azhdaha’s neck just as an arrow of unmelting ice explodes across the wound on Azhdaha’s back.

The great cor lapis pillars of Lord Rex’s sealing begin to erupt from the ground, firmly caging Azhdaha in, and Aether comes to stand beside Xiao, one hand coming to rest upon his heaving shoulders.

“It can’t be that easy,” Aether murmurs, but the final pillar goes up, the flow of shades and miasma cuts off, and Azhdaha is left to claw against the impenetrable walls of Lord Rex’s seal.

“Return to the earth, old friend,” Lord Rex says wearily. “Sleep, and let time wash the world away.”

“Wait!” Chongyun calls out, and Xiao turns to see him running out from beneath his protective barrier, Xingqiu close behind. “I—I’d like to try something. If you would allow it, Rex Lapis.”

Silently, Lord Rex steps aside to allow Chongyun access to the Archon seal. An obvious sign of trust.

“Um. Hello, Lord Azhdaha,” Chongyun says softly, laying a hand on the barrier right before Azhdaha’s snarling, flailing maw. “It must hurt a lot right now. I’m sorry.”

Azhdaha roars at him, loud enough that Chongyun staggers back, hands flying up to cover his ears. Xingqiu, who had tried to run forward, is thrown back as well.

“I can’t let you destroy Liyue!” Chongyun yells, rallying against the force of the sound until it dies. “I can’t let you destroy my home. But it doesn’t seem like you deserve this.” He stares up at the seal and the dark, dripping wounds on Azhdaha’s back, his face mournful. “So— I want to help you. Even just a little.”

“Chongyun,” Lord Rex murmurs in gentle warning, and Chongyun squares his small shoulders.

Placing both hands on the amber barrier, Chongyun closes his eyes, pure yang energy gathering at his fingertips. His power had already been at work, of course, but with the source of darkness sealed off as well, the air grows cleaner. Silver light streams in from the sky and the karmic debt Xiao had just acquired begins to dull and shrivel away.

That purity seems to have reached Azhdaha as well, for his struggles slow and the color of his scales shows in flashes beneath curling waves of miasma. His head dips close to Chongyun’s, and Xiao tenses, but the great dragon does nothing more than press his forehead against the seal wall and breathe out a low, rumbling sigh.

For a few minutes, divine human and fallen dragon simply stand there together in the stillness, and Xiao, too, eases back into Aether’s steady hold for the peace of it.

“Alright,” Chongyun murmurs, pulling away and bowing to Lord Rex. “I— I’ve done all I can.”

Stepping forward again, Lord Rex softly nudges Chongyun aside with his muzzle, and Azhdaha’s prison sinks beneath the ground once more. Then, with a wave of his claw, Lord Rex disintegrates the old, broken spirit tree and coaxes a new sapling to life in its place.

“Perhaps we will be able to achieve true victory in this war after all,” he murmurs.

Xiao, Aether, Chongyun, Xingqiu, and Ganyu slowly gather around him, and despite the wounds and blood that mar his body, Lord Rex bows to them all.

“Let us return. There is still much to do.”

 

-*-

 

The pulse of Childe’s hydro and Lord Rex’s own great geo powers can be felt even before the palace comes into view, and Lord Rex immediately accelerates despite his injuries.

Xiao can see the moment Aether recognizes the energy as well. After looking down at the palm that had been inscribed with the tether to Childe— gone now, of course— Aether’s gaze lifts once more to the horizon.

“Childe… what did you do?”

 

They arrive just as the sun begins to shine its light between the pillars of Jueyun Karst, but Lord Rex pauses only to shift before bursting through the palace doors in search of Childe. Xiao follows as a safeguard against any danger— but upon finding the human, they are met not with chaos, but utter stillness.

Childe is curled up on the floor beside his bed, surrounded by a spray of water and a flickering, unsteady replica of Lord Rex’s own jade shield. Though his back is turned to the door, Xiao can still see him trembling. A sheet has been half-pulled off the bed with him, implying a painful fall.

Xiao had presumed they would find Childe struggling to control burgeoning power, but clearly, something far more concerning is wrong.

“Childe,” Zhongli cries, and he rushes forward, breaking through the weak shield and crashing to his knees beside Childe to roll him over.

Xiao freezes, and he can hear the gasps of the others behind him.

Cut across Childe’s skin are great patches— no, slashes— of petrification, stone cracked through with amber that resembles the seals Lord Rex can inflict on his enemies in battle. The slashes, Xiao realizes, are a perfect mirror of the places Lord Rex had been injured in the battle against Azhdaha.

Lord Rex makes a terrible, keening sound as his fingers clatter over Childe’s petrified skin, stone on stone. “Ganyu, Chongyun, Xingqiu— please leave us. Rest and care for your injuries while you can. I must fix this.”

The three murmur their acknowledgement and waste no time in disappearing down the hall.

“What of us, Zhongli?” Aether asks softly, coming to stand at Xiao’s side.

“…I do not yet know what happened. But if Childe should reject my assistance… I beg of you two to help him in my stead.”

“No need to beg. I would protect Childe even if you had nothing to do with him at all,” Aether says firmly.

“Thank you, friend.” Lord Rex presses his hand to Childe’s sweat-gleaming forehead, and a soft amber light begins to glow from between his fingers. Childe shifts and groans, but through the petrified slashes glow to match, nothing otherwise changes. A deep frown creases Lord Rex’s face.

“I don’t understand…”

Again, his hands flash with light, Childe twitches, and nothing happens.

Lord Rex settles back on his knees, then feels over the side of Childe’s throat, presses a palm over his heart, and traces over the chi lines that lead to his stomach.

“…It’s as if he petrified himself,” Lord Rex says bemusedly. “I cannot undo the damage.”

It is then that Childe’s lashes at last flutter and slowly lift. He blinks up at Lord Rex, then at Xiao and Aether, his face lined with unmistakable pain. Then his gaze jolts back to Lord Rex, and he lashes out clumsily, rolling himself over the floor and out of reach.

“Don’t—don’t touch me,” Childe gasps, even as he traps a half-petrified arm beneath his body and leaves a stone foot dragging. “I don’t know what you did, but—”

“Childe,” Lord Rex implores. “I won’t deny that your suffering is somehow connected to my wounds, but neither is it my power that brought about the petrification. What were you doing while we were on the battlefield?”

“I was trying to sleep! It’s not like there was anything better to do, all alone,” Childe hisses, wrestling with his own stiff body. He manages to extricate his arm from beneath his torso, then falls still, panting hard.

“Then how…?” Lord Rex shakes his head. “Please, Childe, will you allow me to help? I’m certain I will be able to figure out what is wrong, if you will only give me the chance.”

Childe looks away. “Isn’t there anyone else who could undo this?”

“When it comes to petrification… not anymore,” Lord Rex says mournfully.

“…Fine.”

So Lord Rex shuffles closer again, and Childe lies limp as Lord Rex gently unfolds his crumpled body and pulls Childe’s robe away from his shoulders. More petrified spots make themselves known underneath.

Slowly, Lord Rex smooths a hand back and forth over a particularly large splash of stone along Childe’s side, and the human’s expression twists.

“Stop doing that,” Childe bites out. “Just undo your power or leave me alone.”

“As I said, this is not my doing,” Lord Rex murmurs. “But truly, I don’t understand. Humans were never so affected by their bonds with a god unless…” Lord Rex’s hand stills, his eyes widening. “…Unless each loved the other so deeply that before they could learn to control it, their very powers became one.”

At that, Childe jolts, and he tears himself away from Lord Rex’s touch again.

“Childe… do you really—?”

“No. That’s impossible. I hate you.”

Xiao can hear Aether suck in a quiet breath.

“But Childe, the petrification—”

“You did this,” Childe snaps. “I can’t even control my Vision— what’s left of it, anyway.”

“Yet the power undeniably remains yours, whether you can summon it at will or not. You resonated with my pain, and the elements responded. I will not be able to ease the petrification unless—”

“You know what, forget it. Just—just go away if all you’re going to do is try and humiliate me like this.” Childe turns his head away so Xiao can no longer see his expression.

“Childe, I love you,” Lord Rex pleads, barely above a whisper. It is difficult to watch him like this. “More than enough to have changed our bond. But even all my affection could not have twined with a soul that did not reach back.”

“Shut up!” Childe yells, a heavy strain to his voice. “I hate you. You betrayed me, you don’t get to say that—”

Lord Rex slowly folds his hands together, his eyes pressing shut, then opening again. When he speaks, it is soft and aching. “Childe… from the very beginning, you knew you would not be staying long in Liyue, and that it would be the Geo Archon’s duty to find and remove all threats to his nation. Even if my true identity was a surprise, I know you understand full well why I would not have revealed myself to you. So how is it that you were betrayed?”

“Oh, Childe,” Aether breathes, and the answer begins to crystallize in Xiao’s mind even before Childe responds.

Turning away from them entirely, Childe is silent for a long, long time.

“…You were the first person I’d met since escaping from that Ley Line who wasn’t afraid of me.”

Lord Rex remains quiet, listening, and Xiao and Aether do the same. Aether pulls them both back against the wall, making them as distant and unobtrusive as possible in the small room.

“I’d never treated anyone to a meal as an equal before. No one had ever touched me without some ulterior motive,” Childe continues, his voice hoarse. “Pulcinella warned me… but I fell in love anyway. How laughable is that?”

Zhongli makes a wounded noise.

“You left to fight an ancient god that was unsealed because of me, and I was worried. Like an idiot.” Childe’s next breath scrapes on its way out of his throat. “Whatever. Maybe this is exactly what I deserve for being so pathetic.”

“You are far from pathetic, Childe,” Lord Rex says, and his voice is even, but Xiao can hear the fury beneath. “You wished to be loved. Only true fools believe that it is possible to live a life of meaning without any attachments at all.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I would never mock you for this, Childe. Do you understand how much I love you in return? No matter how little I may deserve it. My deception in the Harbor is one thing, but the choices I made afterwards to try and keep you by my side… that, I cannot beg forgiveness for.”

Childe snorts, thick and harsh. “You say that like it’s your fault, when I’m the one who went and fell in love with an Archon. And an enemy Archon at that.”

“…Do you see yourself as unworthy, Childe? Because as the Archon in question, I can assure you that is not the case,” Lord Rex says quietly. “None of the affection I showed you during our time together was a lie, and never did I seek your company as an obligation or to simply humor you. I would be overjoyed if you allowed our bond to take deeper root.”

For a while, Childe doesn’t move or respond. Then— “Why do I want to believe you?”

“Because it is the truth,” Lord Rex says earnestly. “Even if you choose to reject me, I am happy that you have listened to my heart, and I will respect whatever distance you wish to keep.”

“Would you fix the paralysis even if I say no?” Childe challenges.

“Now that I understand the cause, I can heal you this very moment if you will allow me close.”

More silence. With a soft thud, Childe rolls himself back over to stare up at the dark ceiling. “…You can’t betray me again.”

“Let it be a contract sealed in stone,” Lord Rex says immediately. “I deeply regret the manner in which I revealed myself to you that day, no matter the circumstances. It will not happen again. I swear to protect you, even from myself.”

Childe’s chest heaves, and Xiao startles a little to see the silent glimmer of tears tracking down the side of his face. “I’m tired, Zhongli.”

Lord Rex groans, and his hand shifts on the ground, as if barely restrained from reaching out. “I do not doubt it.”

“I’m sorry. I should never have unsealed the Vortex. No— I should never have run off into the woods alone.” Childe’s voice shakes, and he doesn’t seem entirely present anymore. “I’m sorry for falling in love with you. I’m sorry I can’t be what you wanted.”

“Childe…”

“Please don’t hate me, Zhongli. Please.”

Lord Rex swoops in instantly, gathering Childe’s stone-marred body into his arms and holding him close. “As I have already assured you, I have loved you from the very start. And in that regard, nothing has, nor ever will change.”

Childe’s fingers curl into the bloodstained collar of Lord Rex’s armor, and Lord Rex folds into himself, shielding his bonded from sight. Still, Xiao catches a glimpse of the side of Childe’s face and the kisses Lord Rex places upon his temple, then cheek.

He looks away.

In his peripherals, light flashes, and Xiao can feel the geo energy that had been pulsing off Childe’s skin suddenly fade away. There is no need for him to remain here any longer.

“Aether,” he murmurs.

Aether’s gaze, shadowed and mournful, pulls away from the pair beside the bed. “…Yeah.”

He follows Xiao out the door.

 

-*-

 

The sun crests the sky and begins its descent again in a haze of fog and unnatural gloom, the land echoing the agony of divine, festering hatred.

Xiao’s Heart, however, is clean and light again, purified by Aether’s touch soon after they had left Childe’s room, and his wounds are healed. His body remains somewhat fatigued, but it is only to be expected, and this much is easy to endure. It is far better than when Saizhen had sent him from one battle to another without any rest at all.

Now he sits in the quiet steam of their hot spring with Aether, Chongyun, and Xingqiu, all of them subdued after the battle and the shock of seeing Childe’s condition.

Slowly, reverently, Xiao wipes the ash and blood from Aether’s skin with a wet cloth and eases his palms over wounds to close them in his wake. Aether flinches and sighs by turns, but Xiao does not pause in his work of making Aether whole again.

Across the pool, Chongyun is caring for Xingqiu as well, fingertips fretting over the single wound Xingqiu had sustained in the fight and rinsing dust from his hair. Xingqiu had already done the same for Chongyun.

“I’m fine, Yunyun,” Xingqiu murmurs, eventually catching Chongyun’s hand and pressing it back down to his side. “I was merely careless in maintaining my guard. It won’t happen again.”

“But you shouldn’t be hurt at all,” Chongyun groans. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come—”

“If you had tried to go to war without me, I would have marched up to the peaks of Jueyun Karst myself, permission or not,” Xingqiu interrupts. “This is where I want to be, Yunyun. Besides, our Archon gave me an important task. I would be remiss in my duties as a citizen of Liyue if I did not fulfill it.”

Chongyun latches onto Xingqiu’s bare arm, and Xiao observes the way Xingqiu twitches. “Even so…”

 

When Xiao has finished closing every cut and wiping away every bruise that he could find, Aether slips into the water with a sigh, leaning his heat-flushed cheek against Xiao’s calf. “What of Ganyu?” he asks into the stillness.

“She sat next to me and healed herself while you were with Rex Lapis and Childe, still,” Chongyun says timidly. “Then she went out to the garden, but she looked tired, so I didn’t want to follow her…”

“That’s fine, then” Aether says easily. “As long as she is where she wants to be.”

He and Xingqiu finish washing themselves, and Xiao brings soft robes for them all. They must hope that Childe and Lord Rex have reached an understanding by now, for Lord Rex cannot delay resting any longer. Chongyun and Aether’s powers will need time to do their work, after all, and there is no telling when the Chi will be unleashed.

--

When the four of them finally arrive at Lord Rex’s nest, they find the room shaded by drawn gauze curtains, Ganyu already curled up near the edge of the nest, and Lord Rex in human form in the center, arms wrapped protectively around his bonded. Both are rumpled, their hair wet and clothes changed as if in a hurry, and by the slow rise and fall of Childe’s torso, he is asleep with Lord Rex’s fingers combing through his hair.

Aether and Chongyun’s auras spark bright, steadily cleansing the room and all within, and Ganyu lifts her head as they approach. The finger she holds up to her lips is unnecessary warning, but Xiao obeys it nonetheless.

He is too wary, too entangled in the habits and memories of war to sleep now, but he can still rest back-to-back with Aether to quietly observe Lord Rex and the open wonder with which he gazes at Childe. As if in response to Lord Rex’s care, Childe’s energy flows placid around him, no longer torn through with corruption or pain or the turmoil of his heart.

 

As time passes, a few others arrive to immerse themselves in the safety only Aether and Chongyun can provide— Mountain Shaper comes and nestles into the blankets to sleep, Moon Carver stays until dusk blankets the room before soaring off again, and Cloud Retainer tinkers with one of her defensive contraptions for a while.

Some of the adepti, such as Yanfei and Streetward Rambler, are assigned to defend the Harbor only and have no need of purification, Xiao knows, and Shenhe doesn’t appear until the dark of midnight. Even then, she only remains for a few moments, conferring with Cloud Retainer before they depart together.

Xiao himself rises soon after, slipping from the nest to watch mist roiling by in the valley below. Darkness presses in on his senses from all sides, yet he can do nothing to combat it now— and that is a torment all of its own. Aether and Chongyun’s powers dull the pressure, but even they cannot block out corruption this all-consuming.

The land and skies are quiet for now— perhaps they will be allowed another full day of rest before the Chi gathers enough strength to break free.

 

-*-

 

Early morning sees the humans in the nest stumbling through a meal and out to the training plateau under the haze of too much sleep, and they all gather quietly in the dew-damp grass.

Xiao notes that Childe hovers close to Lord Rex’s side now, though he only touches when Lord Rex reaches out for him first— which is often. The restless shuffle of his feet speaks of instincts at war within.

“We are here so Childe may test out his Vision, and Aether, Chongyun, and Xingqiu may learn any exorcisms that may be of use to them in the upcoming battle. I will not have any of you training to exhaustion, or anything near it. Do you understand?” Lord Rex asks gravely.

They each murmur their agreement, then split up as commanded.

 

“There is no time for proper training, nor to teach you all the techniques you should know for a war like this,” Xiao says shortly as Aether, Xingqiu and Chongyun line up before him. “So I will teach you a single equilibrium spell that will clear the area around you should you find yourself trapped by creatures of shadow.”

He receives three small and solemn nods in return.

Holding up both hands, Xiao concentrates on his core, splitting his energy to bring yang visibly to his right hand and yin to his left. “I do not expect you to achieve this,” he says. “But you must separate the two similarly in your mind. Yang chases yin. Yin will lure the corruption in and trap it, and yang will wipe it from the earth.”

Xiao can sense the moment Xingqiu manages to split the two, his aura shifting and unstable with the separation. Chongyun and Aether, however…

“…I’ve tried before, but I don’t think I have any yin and yang energy to work with,” Aether says quietly, looking down at his own hands. “All the exorcisms I’ve done, I adapted to my own starlight. Give me some time to puzzle this one out as well.”

Xiao swallows down his surprise. Aether is of the stars, so it would be unreasonable to expect him follow the exact same cycles of energy as those in Teyvat. Still, he must contain some concept of light in balance with darkness, or else Xiao would have observed the lack of it in his aura long before now.

Meanwhile, Chongyun sits in furrowed concentration, yang energy bursting off his skin in great flares. If there is any yin nestled in his core, Xiao certainly cannot feel it.

Perhaps this exercise was futile from the start.

“I don’t— I need—” Chongyun says through gritted teeth.

“Enough,” Xiao says, taking a step forward— but before he can direct Chongyun to a different exercise, Xingqiu grabs his friend’s hand and the whole world flashes white.

Xiao stumbles, spear instinctively coming to hand, but there is nothing to fight. When his vision clears a moment later, it is to see both humans collapsed on the ground, parted again, and Aether in a guarded position beside them.

A perfect exorcism, the tingling over his skin tells him. Powerful yang chasing playful yin.

“What did you do?” Xiao demands as Lord Rex appears at his side, radiating concern.

“I—I don’t know,” Chongyun says, apparently still stunned. “It just suddenly felt like my power had a place to go.”

“I lost control of the separation when I touched Chongyun,” Xingqiu adds blankly. “He took my light, and I…”

“The yin and yang cycle shared between two bodies,” Lord Rex says ponderingly. “Of course, it would only make sense, given Chongyun’s disposition… and Xingqiu’s compatibility. It has been quite some time since I have seen it done.”

“There’s nothing wrong with us, right?” Chongyun asks anxiously.

“Not at all. It may simply require some trial and error with your— excuse me, with Xingqiu before you are able to master this skill. It would be best for the two of you to remain close for the time being.”

With a slight bow, Lord Rex returns to Childe, and Chongyun and Xingqiu look up at Xiao with wide eyes.

“Chongyun, this may be the only way you will ever be able to perform equilibrium exorcisms,” Xiao says. “Try it again.”

Notes:

Man this chapter has so much going on-

Have an Aether in his Zhongli-mandated armor to last you until the next chapter! Or see my other fics and art on Tumblr!

Chapter 54: Would You Give Your Life? (Would You Hold Me Tight?)

Notes:

This one's a doozy, guys

I FORGOT THE HECKING TW: War violence, semi-graphic blood/injuries, tiny D/S scene, emotional damage

By the time Chongyun and Xingqiu are able to reliably unleash a wave of cleansing power whenever their hands meet, Aether, too, has crafted his own method of exorcism. Now that Xiao is aware of it, he can see the slight difference in the way light refracts around Aether’s hands; sense the pure force behind Aether’s spells, rather than the natural flow of yin and yang— but truly, even these abnormalities would be all but indistinguishable to the common eye.

How many worlds must Aether have traveled through, and how many powers must he have wielded before to adapt to Teyvat’s ways so swiftly and easily now?

With nothing more to teach them, Xiao settles on the side to observe and ensure nothing goes amiss in their practice. His peace lasts only for a minute before feels a faint tug on the contract cord that still binds him to Lord Rex. It startles him— enough that he bothers to warp straight to Lord Rex’s side.

“My Lord?” In all his centuries of service, Xiao can count on his fingers the number of times Lord Rex has called him this way.

“Xiao. Apologies, it was not my intention to rush you,” Lord Rex says tilting his head to the side.

Xiao looks from him to Childe, taking in the metal sword in the human’s hands and the frustration twisting across his face.

“Something is wrong,” he says more than asks.

“Zhongli doesn’t like the way I fight, and he won’t tell me why,” Childe says scornfully. “And I still can’t summon the weapons I want.”

Had Lord Rex brought him here to… solve Childe’s problems?

“What weapons?” Xiao asks curtly. There is no need to soften his words for this man.

“I used my Vision for everything,” Childe grumbles. “My weapon changed with me, and I could make everything but a bow out of hydro.” He holds up a hand, a few tendrils of water curling into his palm— before something in his aura shifts, and the water splashes harmlessly to the ground.

Slowly, Xiao turns to Lord Rex. “I felt…”

“I cannot restrain it,” Lord Rex says, head bent contritely. “When I saw him hurting himself as he trained… the bond responded to my will.”

“You’re holding me back now?” Childe says, a disbelieving pitch to his voice.

Lord Rex looks pained. “Can it truly be called ‘holding you back’ when I am keeping you from destroying yourself with your own powers?”

Childe’s mouth opens again, but Xiao has heard enough.

“You will fight me.”

“…What?”

“Xiao—” Lord Rex starts.

“I will not exert myself, nor injure him. I understand my limits,” Xiao says, then waits for Lord Rex’s decision.

After a long moment, Lord Rex nods. “…Very well. I suppose it would be foolish to ask you for help, only to stop you when you try.”

Permission acquired, Xiao settles into position across from a wide-eyed Childe. “Well?”

“Uh— I just wasn’t expecting— what are you going to do?”

Unfamiliar with human emotion though Xiao may be, fear is something he will always be able to scent, no matter what form it takes. He frowns.

“I am not here to hurt you. I only need to understand why Lord Rex is reluctant to let you do the very thing he brought you here to try.”

“…Okay. Sure.” Childe says, gaze flitting away from Xiao’s and hands twitching on the grip of his sword. “I guess you’d be the one to ask. Do I just— swing at you?”

“Did you not wish to fight strong opponents?” Xiao asks shortly. “Why do you hesitate now?”

A faint spark lights in Childe’s eyes. “Confident, huh? Alright.”

He lunges forward, and Xiao redirects his blade easily, swinging around to plant a foot against Childe’s lower back and kick him into the grass.

“Ack—!”

“Try again.”

Spitting out a mouthful of green, Childe glares up at him. “What was that for?”

The answer is that if this is how Childe had been fighting in front of Lord Rex, there would have been no reason for Xiao to come over in the first place— and no reason to plan for Childe’s help on the battlefield. But that is not for Childe to know.

“Again,” is all Xiao says, and he dodges out of the way when Childe swipes at his ankles.

For a few strikes, Xiao simply allows Childe to find a rhythm of give and take, and he begins to see hints of the behavior that must have so worried Lord Rex. Childe is erratic, leaping from one style to another in a way that leaves his body open and movements jarring. He is fast, to be sure, and his bladework is strong and precise, but against an immortal whose vision and mind are keen enough to overcome unpredictability, Childe cannot compete.

Xiao lands his next blow with enough force to kill, and Childe meets it in a furious clang of steel.

Now he can truly witness the measure of Childe’s ability, and the longer Xiao absorbs the reckless storm of it, the angrier he becomes.

Childe leaps at him with a gleam in his eyes, and his shoulder cracks loudly when he overextends the swing of his sword. Xiao plunges from above, and Childe braces his blade against his bare arm to receive the attack head-on. Only by redirecting his force and taking a heavy blow to the side can Xiao keep from Childe from half cutting off his own arm. Childe abruptly flips to a polearm-wielder’s stance and seems utterly unconcerned when point of Xiao’s spear digs into the unguarded ribs on his left.

“Enough,” Xiao growls at last, blurring into shadow to knock the sword from Childe’s hand and wrench both the man’s arms behind his back. Childe struggles, but Xiao does not yield. “You fight as I once did.”

“Oh yeah?” Childe challenges, straining so hard against Xiao’s grasp that Xiao is forced to switch his hold and curl his fingers around Childe’s throat as well, just to keep him from dislocating his own shoulders.

“Childe, please,” Lord Rex frets, hurrying over to where they kneel in the grass. “The fight is over.”

“It’s not over until I say it is,” Childe says, gaze still consumed by that too-bright gleam.

“Insolent.” Sweeping Childe’s legs out from beneath him, Xiao crushes him face-first into the ground. After a few heaving breaths, Childe’s muscles slowly relax, and Xiao loosens his grip. “Has your reason returned?”

“…Yes,” Childe says sullenly.

“Why do you fight this way?”

“Because it works. I never had a real swordsmanship teacher, you know. Everything I know, I taught myself.” A strain of pride enters Childe’s voice, even as he defensively meets Xiao’s stare.

“Admirable,” Xiao says, and Childe jolts, blinking. “However, you no longer house a demon that can compensate for your recklessness. If you do not wish to die on the battlefield, you must learn to protect yourself first.”

Childe squints at him. Opens his mouth, closes it again. “…You sound like you learned that the hard way.”

“Every skill I have with the spear, I paid for in blood,” Xiao says quietly. “And when I stepped onto the battlefield, I held no regard for my own body because I desperately hoped that each mistake would be my last.”

He looks away from Lord Rex and Childe’s silent, frozen stares. “Aether taught me why to live, and Lord Rex taught me how.”

“…That’s…” Childe shakes his head, apparently speechless. “I really don’t know any other way to fight, though.”

“Ideally, you would train and develop your own skills,” Xiao says, relieved to be free of their scrutiny. “But there is no time. As your bond partner, however, Lord Rex can etch something suitable into your body, if you will trust him.”

“Etch…?” Childe echoes, sounding mildly disturbed as he turns to Lord Rex.

“It is not so bad as Xiao perhaps makes it out to be,” Lord Rex reassures. “But are you certain you would like me to do this?”

Childe pauses. “…Did you stop me from training because I reminded you of the Vigilant Yaksha?”

“I would not have wished to see you hurt, no matter what. I will not deny that past experience was a part of it, however.”

Rocking back on his heels, Childe’s brow creases for a while. “Hey, Xiao, show me— I mean, would you let me see your arm?”

Curious enough to agree, Xiao drags his sleeve up to his shoulder and extends his arm parallel to Childe’s own. He has observed it many times by now, but the sheer number of scars that litter Childe’s skin continues to defy all belief. It would not appear out of place for Childe’s arm to be one of Xiao’s limbs, nor the other way around.

A soft whine draws Xiao’s attention, and a moment later, Lord Rex, suddenly in dragon form, nuzzles over both their outstretched arms.

“Zhongli?” Childe yelps, but Xiao simply drops his hand and leans his temple against Lord Rex’s jaw. How is it that he feels so safe both comforting and being comforted by the master he should long have died for?

Lord Rex’s tongue flicks out over the particularly gnarled, swollen scars that warp Childe’s fingers, and slowly, Childe seems to settle into himself.

“…Alright,” he says. “I’m ready.”

Xiao retreats to a respectful distance as Lord Rex’s scales warp and smooth back to mortal flesh.

“Put your mind at ease, Childe,” Lord Rex says. “I will take care of you.”

Their eyes close in one motion, and Lord Rex cups a hand over Childe’s nape— over his mark. Childe’s breath hitches, but he does not pull away.

“Such lovely strength…” Lord Rex murmurs. “What an honor it is to call you my own. Move with me, Childe.”

When Childe opens his eyes again, they are shot through with warm amber, and his face is slack, expression distant. Fully under the thrall of his bonded.

Lord Rex steps forward, and Childe steps with him. He strikes, and Childe strikes with him. In perfect time, they cross the field in simple movements as Lord Rex builds a foundation for Childe’s techniques. Xiao watches them quietly; sees Aether, Chongyun, and Xingqiu stopping in their practice as well to observe.

On the other side of the plateau, Childe and Lord Rex finally diverge— now, they are opponents, Lord Rex exaggerating each blow and counter so Childe may adapt to the flow of battle with a divine.

Upon completing necessary forms, Lord Rex then shifts Childe again so they may stand back-to-back, guarding each other without the need for word or hesitation. Childe swings particularly viciously like this, as if daring anything to slip past him and so much as touch Lord Rex.

When they at last come to a stop, standing in the exact place from which they had set out, Lord Rex faces Childe and tucks a finger under his chin to tilt his face up. Childe blinks at him with that hazy, geo-touched gaze.

“Well done, Childe,” Lord Rex says softly. “You may return now. Take as much time as you need.”

Childe sways on his feet and strains further into Lord Rex’s hold. Of course Lord Rex obliges him, and he pulls Childe close against his chest, no doubt so Childe may feel his skin and breathe in his scent. It has been many years since Xiao had last observed a human vassal bonded to a god, but he remembers well enough the fervor with which each tried to cling to the other.

He has done enough here. Lord Rex will take care of the rest.

Quietly, Xiao returns to his own bonded and the young humans, and they begin their exorcism practice once more.

 

-*-

 

“While we have the time and advantage, we should move to the battlefield before the Chi of Guyun awakens,” Lord Rex announces over a solemn evening meal. “If it is possible to preserve the habitability of Qingce Village, I would prefer to do so, and we must therefore be ready and waiting on the mountain. Furthermore, the Chi is much older, and harbors far more hatred toward me than even Azhdaha, so this battle may be… costly.”

 

No one would dare to argue with one of Lord Rex’s strategies, so the moment dinner is finished, everyone scatters to gather their armor and supplies. Lord Rex ferries almost everything on his back, Xiao and Aether carrying the rest, and moonlight is streaming down from high overhead by the time they land.

The air here is heavy and hazy with miasma, and if it were not for Chongyun’s aura, Xiao knows his karma would be accumulating once more. As it is, moving is more exhausting than it should be and breathing is difficult, and no one bothers with idle chatter as they prepare.

Aether, Chongyun, and Xingqiu swiftly set up makeshift shelters in the terraces of Qingce while Xiao and Ganyu search and seal the borders of their new safe haven. Lord Rex settles himself at the very center and instructs Childe to sit at his back, perhaps to anchor himself as he meditates. Xiao can feel steady pulses of geo sinking into the earth, cleansing and preparing it for battle.

That finished, they all return to one of the tents to rest, Aether and Chongyun curled up as close as possible to Lord Rex’s side. Xiao and the others, even Childe, are left to squeeze in wherever else they can.

 

By morning, Shenhe and Cloud Retainer have returned, with Moon Carver and Mountain Shaper guarding the main routes out of Qingce valley. A message from Barbatos drifts in as well— it seems the forces of Mondstadt had well defended their border, with few injuries and fewer deaths, and their Archon now only needs to know how much time they will have to prepare for the next onslaught.

With training forbidden but sleep impossible, Xiao braces himself against the corruption and wanders to the very edges of Chongyun’s protective aura, walking along the mountainside that had once given way beneath his fleeing feet and stolen Indarias away. It aches in a way that Xiao has not felt in a very long time.

His stomach throbs, though Indarias’ Heart is surely long subsumed by now.

--

It seems Xiao had not buried his mourning as deeply as he had hoped, for upon his return to the camp, Aether silently pulls him close and does not let go.

They stay like that, skin touching and warmth flowing between them even as they eat and hone their blades and strap on each other’s armor. Xiao could have put his own on with a mere thought, but something about kneeling before Aether to have his collar secured and headpiece adjusted feels too sacred to give up.

--

The sun is bleeding red across the horizon when the mountain above them finally groans and cracks, and everyone at the camp leaps up to take their positions. At first, there is only a trickle of shades, strong, but destroyed easily enough. Even when a few demons emerge, they are nothing that cannot be slaughtered in a few powerful strikes with Chongyun there to weaken and drive them back.

But then—

The earth screams, the ground ripples beneath their feet— and just like that day with Indarias in his arms, Xiao is hurled back by the Chi’s violent awakening. He fights for purchase at the edge of the cliff, even as his vision goes dark— is it the miasma in the air or his own terrible memories?— and drags himself across the rapidly dying grass toward Aether.

Indarias is gone, because he was too weak. Too slow. But Aether is still here, and this time, Xiao will not fail to protect that which he is sworn to.

“Aether,” he gasps desperately, and a hand meets his in the darkness.

“I’m right here, Xiao.”

And Xiao carefully wedges his head beneath Aether’s chin as they kneel together, battered by the Chi’s howling fury. Shades and demons pour into the sky, dimming the sun just as surely as they had in Nantianmen, only this time in far greater numbers. Xiao can only hope their preparations in the city and at the borders had been enough.

They have no forces to spare now.

An enormous limb, dripping in corruption and sloughing off skin, emerges from the pit of the mountain. The ground rocks beneath them like waves when the limb slams down, and a ruined semblance of what could perhaps once have been called a head rises soon after it.

The Chi had been slain, its body split and sealed by Lord Rex, Xiao knows. Its blood had formed rivers and its scales had shaped the land as the limbs had returned to the earth. Only the head remains, it seems— and that remnant is nothing more than corruption so thick and fermented that every trace of the once-glorious beast’s form has been consumed.

Chongyun may have been able to ease Azhdaha’s erosion, but there is nothing to save here.

Xiao allows the pain of the battlefield to sink beneath his skin, embraces the knives that cut down his throat and the chains that strangle his and Aether’s shared Heart. It will end with the battle, and until then, he will do better to welcome the pain than fight it. He always has.

Hands cup his cheeks and turn his head, and Xiao is forced to look up into Aether’s gaze, a steady gold that nevertheless streams with silent tears. Shaking, he lifts his hand to wipe away one of the tracks.

“I won’t tell you to stop, Xiao,” Aether whispers, barely audible over the storm around them. “I know we have no choice. But please… at least let me quiet the memories.” He presses a hand over his chest. Over their Heart.

The sound of Indarias’ dying scream echoes in Xiao’s ears even now. He nods.

“Look at me,” Aether commands, and Xiao already is, but the words relax his body; make him sink into Aether’s grasp. “There is no need to think now. Set the past aside and focus only on your duty, my Conqueror of Demons. Protect Liyue, protect your master… protect me. And when it is over, return. I will be waiting.”

A flood of starlight swallows Xiao’s mind, and he gratefully releases control, his senses sharpening and vision clearing as Aether’s command thrums through every fiber of his body. He will do his duty, please his master and his Heart. The sweet promise of Aether’s touch awaits him.

--

As much as Xiao despises leaving Aether’s side, strategy once again dictates that they fight separately.

In this battle, where Lord Rex has been weakened and their foe is much stronger, they can no longer afford to leave Chongyun safely meditating on the side. So he and his guard Xingqiu are sent to fight as close to Lord Rex—and the Chi— as they dare. To increase the strength of Chongyun’s aura and keep them safe, Aether goes with them.

That leaves Shenhe, Ganyu, and Cloud Retainer to fight as a unit, protecting Lord Rex from encroaching demons, which is as it should be. But with all the others secure in their places, Xiao finds himself standing in the swirling corruption beside none other than Childe.

He spares a glance toward the human; takes in the agitated geo crystals that burst from the ground around his feet and crumble again in rapid succession. It is a waste of energy, but Childe has had only just enough experience with his powers to make himself useful on the battlefield, so Xiao does not command him to stop.

“We will defend the village-facing cliff, until we are called elsewhere,” Xiao says shortly. “Qingce must not be destroyed.”

Childe turns his face away from Lord Rex’s twisting, shadow-stained form as if it pains him, and Xiao does not doubt that it is agony to ignore the bond calling him to protect Lord Rex from danger. But before all else, Childe is a soldier, one who has indeed earned his scars, and he follows Xiao to the mountainside without complaint.

They must fight their way there, of course, and the onslaught of darkness only grows stronger when they choose a spot on which to stand their ground. Xiao paints a hasty sigil over Childe’s forehead, the smallest additional protection over the armor Lord Rex had provided him before they left the palace, before they each sink into the frenzy of battle.

Despite his practice with Lord Rex the day before, it is clear that Childe knows only how to fight alone, watching his own back and bearing the wounds that inevitably come when more blades strike than one can block alone.

And despite Xiao’s centuries of being both the lone warrior and the lone victor in battle, his years in shadow as the last yaksha, it seems he has grown too used to feeling Aether’s back against his. He rails against the sensation of corruption stabbing into his side, a careless mistake he would never have made under Saizhen, and watches his own blood spatter over the earth when he fails to dodge a blade that slices open his shoulder.

Sorrow and plea shake down the bond as Aether absorbs each new bloom of pain, and Xiao returns it for the ache and weight he can feel from Aether’s body as well.

Xiao takes a blow that would have cut off Childe’s head, then gathers his power, yang chasing yin out from his fingertips to instantly blast away all but the very strongest demons. It brings them a moment of respite, and Childe draws close to him again, crimson dripping down his face and hands from numerous cuts, and sick veins of black creeping outward from each wound.

Jabbing his fingers against Childe’s sternum, Xiao purges corruption from the human’s body— then bites back a groan when the strength it requires leaves him wavering in place. Just for a moment, but it is a moment he can hardly afford.

Childe makes a heavy, breathless noise of what might have been gratitude, then lunges forward to meet the next wave of shades.

--

Despite his and Childe’s efforts, corruption still slips past and around them to stomp blackened paths into Qingce’s fields and smash through the walls and roofs of small houses.

Xiao uses great blasts of wind to sweep them away at first, or to redirect the darkness onto his cleansing blade— but as the moon rises, then peaks in the sky, he can no longer spare the strength to do anything more than protect Childe and destroy that which is right before him.

Time blurs for him, as it always does in endless wars such as these. Xiao blinks, and a demon is dying at the end of his spear, then exploding into acid corruption that hisses over his armor. He turns, and Childe has taught himself a new method of keeping the shades at bay, throwing up walls of amber to guard his back when Xiao or his own swords cannot.

Childe is a quick learner, Xiao will not begrudge him that.

Xiao wipes away the bloody haze that has dripped into his eyes, and sees that the moon is gone and the sky is gray.

In the distance, Lord Rex shrieks, furious and terrible, and Childe staggers with it.

Leaden exhaustion muffles the agony Xiao can feel from across the bond, and he can do nothing but hope his own weariness is doing the same for Aether in return.

Chongyun’s pure aura does not diminish in strength, but as dawn creeps up upon them, it shrinks, compressing down and down until Xiao can barely feel it at all, perched at the edge of the mountain as he is. Without that ward, even as faint as it already was, he and Childe have no chance of protecting this place any longer. They retreat inward, closer to the heart of the battle, and though Xiao knows Lord Rex will do nothing to punish him, he still dreads the moment when Lord Rex will realize that he had been unable to defend Qingce Village as commanded.

They have yet to even take up a second position on the field when Childe stumbles mid-strike, crumples to the ground, and does not get up. Xiao takes the slash to his own back as the price of cutting down the shade looming above the human, then painfully unleashes a second exorcism, the strain of it hollowing out his bones. Truthfully, it is a wonder that a mortal like Childe had lasted as long as he did.

Xiao cannot let go of his spear for even the single moment necessary to pick Childe up, let alone bring him somewhere safer, but after some time, a silvery presence makes itself known in the corner of Xiao’s eye, cutting a path through the demons, and a blood and shadow-stained Shenhe lifts Childe up and away, carrying him toward the locus of Chongyun’s sphere of protection. Good. Xiao will be able to fight more freely now.

Sunlight barely reaches through the choking clouds of miasma, but it is still enough to tell Xiao that they have all fought through the night without so much as a moment’s rest. He is used to such things, but the humans upon whom they depend to win this war… no matter how determined they might be, their strength remains mortal and finite.

Fear for Aether brings Xiao to narrow the range of his defense once more, until he can occasionally catch glimpses of Cloud Retainer’s inventions flashing with her power or frosted spirit blades rising above the corruption before plunging down again.

Xiao strains his senses to their limit, but though he searches for any trace of Childe, Shenhe, Aether, or Xingqiu, all he can find of their energies are dull pulses that indicate only that they are alive. Their human bodies are exhausted, no doubt, but there is no place to truly rest.

This battle must end soon.

 

Just as Xiao is making his way closer to the center of the battle, hoping for even a glimpse of Aether to confirm his safety, there is a great cracking sound from overhead, and Xiao does not even have time to look up before he is near-flattened by the shockwave that follows. Shades and demons are thrown back equally, and that one precious moment is enough for Xiao to give his attention to Lord Rex instead.

Twin roars rise from Lord Rex and the Chi, one tortured and one triumphant, and Xiao feels as through the ground has suddenly fallen out from beneath his feet as he watches the last of Lord Rex’s shield shatter and the Chi spear him through the chest.

“NO!” Xiao screams, his voice lost to the storm of corruption, and he leaps forward, warping mid-motion to Lord Rex’s side—

Too late, he realizes a fresh wave of shades and demons, each stronger and further drenched in the Chi’s hatred than the last, have swarmed from the Chi’s prison, straight toward the humans gathered on the ground.

Lord Rex falls, his back striking the earth and an echoing cry tearing from his throat, and Xiao has only an instant to choose between the shades flooding the battlefield or the Chi bearing down upon Lord Rex from above.

Do your duty, Aether's voice reminds him.

In the next moment, Xiao is scraping together all his strength to cast a ward overwhelming enough to counter the Chi’s victory strike. He screams as power batters him, as his spear groans under the weight it must hold up, as his precious armor is shredded away from his arms, his skin away from his flesh. Then he rallies, pushing back, a bastion of Lord Rex’s power returning to life behind him to hold him up, and with one final, desperate cry, Xiao flings the Chi back and away.

The Chi seems stunned, and Xiao would be too if he were not already lunging across the field even as his legs give out from under him. No strength left to warp.

Somehow, Childe had already broken free of the ocean of shades surrounding Chongyun and is collapsing to his knees at Lord Rex’s side, his meager power feeding Lord Rex and still able to siphon off some of the corruption— some of the poison— the Chi had inflicted. It will have to be enough, because Xiao’s only thought now is for his beloved and his charges who stand no chance against this many enemies without Lord Rex to hold them back.

The world sharpens to a knife’s edge with Xiao’s desperation, time slows to a trickle.

He can do nothing but observe as a demon’s blade-like limb sinks deep into Aether’s thigh, bringing him low and leaving Chongyun vulnerable behind him.

He sees an exorcism spark and fail between Chongyun’s hands, the pure aura around them wavering with the disruption.

He gasps when Aether wrenches at their shared Heart for the power needed to send a blast of anemo over Shenhe’s fallen body, knocking away the shade that had been about to devour her.

He reaches out hopelessly as corruption blocks his path and keeps him from protecting his humans. Too slow. Too far. On the other side of the field, Ganyu tears a shade apart with her bare hands, fury in her eyes, yet she is also entirely unable to reach them.

“Chongyun,” Xingqiu calls as the corruption closes in around them. “Yang chases yin, right?”

And Xiao watches as the boy grasps Chongyun’s face and pulls him close, blood mingling where their lips press together—

“I love you, Yunyun.”

 

Yin lashes out over the field, the sum of a human’s life energy in a single strike, and with it, Xingqiu darts away from Chongyun, out of their last circle of protection and into the thick of the corruption.

It chases him, for darkness follows darkness just as surely as light, and Xingqiu vanishes beneath the hoard.

Xiao lifts his voice in terror, hears Chongyun and Aether do the same, and then yang energy comes pouring out of Chongyun in a crashing waterfall, matching the power of the yin and then some, wiping the shrieking masses of darkness utterly out of existence.

The perfect exorcism.

When the miasma clears, the battlefield is revealed to be shadowed and silent, churned with dirt and blood, with only the Chi left to writhe in agony across from them beside his prison.

There is a mangled, crimson heap on the ground where Xingqiu had sacrificed himself.

 

Chongyun screams.

Notes:

:)

 

For the next update, would you all prefer to see two short chapters, one each week, or wait three weeks for a really long chapter?

Chapter 55: Made Gods

Notes:

YOOOOOO FONTAINE TRAILER HYPEEEE

Anyway-
By popular vote, you shall have your chapters short and swift! Thanks to my betas Dragon and Wizard for betaing and screaming cheering me on <3

This chapter was very much inspired, among other things, by the fantastic "You've Seen Where the Heart Is (You've Seen It's Color)" by author Razzledazzy, which I feel will become very clear by the end. Definitely give that a read if you haven't already!

TW: Semi-graphic blood and injury, war violence

“Chongyun!” Aether tries and fails to leap after his friend, the cry ragged in his throat. Blood pours freely from his leg— and his hands, and face, and arms— but while this will hardly be enough to kill him, it does well enough to keep him chained to the ground beside Shenhe.

Xiao’s hands land heavily upon Aether’s side, and Aether slams down on the thin pulse of healing he can feel Xiao trying to stir up in their bond. “Don’t. I’ll live. Save your strength for Xingqiu.”

That is, if Xiao will even be able to make a difference there. Given that he had just pushed back the entire might of a being as powerful as the Chi, for him to still on his feet at all is…

Briefly, Aether spares a glance in the direction Childe had escaped and sees enough to know that Zhongli is badly wounded, but alive, and Childe is doing something to help him recover. It will have to do for now.

Far more important is the other side of the field, where Chongyun is now hunched over Xingqiu’s crumpled body, his shoulders shaking. Aether can’t see much from his place so low to the ground, but the spreading pool of crimson around the two boys easily takes its place as one of the worst things Aether has borne witness to in his time as a traveler of the stars.

“Xiao, please,” Aether begs. “Help them.” He drags himself, arm over arm, a pace or so through the dirt— but Xiao stops him with a touch and slowly makes his way over to Chongyun in Aether’s stead.

At the edge of the macabre puddle, Xiao drops to his knees, hands reaching out to whatever lies before him. Ganyu, too, finally reaches them from the other direction, but whatever she sees makes her hands leap up to her mouth and her eyes close.

A rumble from the Chi shakes them all, and Aether wants to sob. Such is war for those who do not have the strength to stop it before it starts, but if only the world would give Chongyun and Xiao even just a moment more—!

Chongyun rises to his feet, slow and inexorable. In his hand is Xingqiu’s sigil-marked and blood-drenched sword, and it looks strange when all Aether has ever seen him fight with before is a claymore or the catalyst now smashed into shards by his feet.

Ice crackles, and Xiao bends his head to whatever short word leaves Chongyun’s mouth.

“Wait!” Ganyu cries, reaching after him, but Chongyun is the least injured and least exhausted among them, and he outstrips her with ease. Around Xingqiu’s sword, frost gathers in shining layers until the blade is jagged and heavy, almost as long as Chongyun is tall, and Chongyun’s hands and wrists are armored in cryo as well.

He flies toward the Chi, and Aether can do nothing but watch. Even if he could have moved, would he have tried to stop the storm of grief that Chongyun has become?

The Chi cackles at Chongyun’s approach, gathering itself once more for an attack.

“Pathetic little human. What will you do with a blade you can barely hope to carry?”

Chongyun’s answer is nowhere near as loud, yet it rings across the field to Aether’s ears just as surely as any clarion of war. “Destroy you.”

He leaps, swept up with the help of his Vision.

The Chi swings forward, corruption swirling around its limbs.

Frozen blade meets dripping flesh.

And with a furious howl, two voices twining into one of fury and sorrow and defeat, the Chi is cleaved in two, ice encasing it almost as high as the crumbling mountain peaks around them. Then that ice breaks with a cascade of ear-splitting cracks, and all the remains of the Chi is a stain of darkness upon the ground.

 

Chongyun promptly collapses, but in his place, familiar pillars of sealing stone creep up from the ground to drag the Chi under. Aether turns just enough to see Childe standing beside Zhongli’s head, one hand on Zhongli’s glowing scales and the other held out toward the seal he is creating. One of his eyes gleams with amber. A vessel for his wounded Archon.

This battle is over. But at what cost, Aether wonders as he painfully drags himself to Shenhe’s side. She’s still breathing, and though her pulse is too fast, it’s not enough to make Aether worry under the circumstances. Just like the rest of them, she’d simply pushed herself to the point of exhaustion keeping Chongyun safe.

To one side, he sees Xingqiu’s body being gently lifted onto Cloud Retainer’s back, and on the other, Childe limps over to gather Chongyun into his arms. Zhongli staggers his way off the mountain, back to the fields below. And Xiao…

Aether buries his face in Xiao’s armored neck, mindless of the blood liberally splashed over his front. “You did so well, Xiao,” he murmurs. “You saved Lord Rex Lapis. You saved all of us.”

“…And yet it is no victory,” Xiao rasps, and Aether chokes on a sound that might have been a sob just as much as a laugh. What could he possibly say to contradict that?

Bracing himself on Xiao’s shoulder, Aether groans to his feet. His wounded leg trails limply behind him, still bleeding in a steady stream, and he can feel Xiao vibrating with the effort of not healing him.

Together they stumble down the mountainside, but as they near the half-scorched circle of their campsite, Aether catches a glimpse of a few dark blurs soaring through the distant sky. He pauses to squint after them, only for half a dozen more to enter his field of view. They’re…

“Shades,” Xiao says grimly, pulling Aether onward.

“But… didn’t we kill the Chi? Was Childe’s seal not strong enough?”

“We did. It is. Those shades are coming from Cuijue.”

Coming from Cuijue? In his pain-dazed state, it takes entirely too long for Aether to realize what that must mean. “…Saizhen. But how? It’s too soon.”

Xiao says nothing, and they lapse into silence as they cross the rest of the distance to the camp. There, Aether surveys the damage. Their preparations beforehand had not been in vain, at least. The main tent is still standing, and the ground within the protective barrier is not emitting the miasma of corruption. Maybe half their supplies have been smashed or scattered across the ground, but there’s still enough left for their current needs.

As for the warriors themselves, however…

Mountain Shaper and Moon Carver have returned from their posts, and they seem to be in only marginally better condition than Cloud Retainer, who herself is little more than a lump of feathers sleeping against the side of the tent.

Shenhe, Chongyun, and Xingqiu are all laid out on mats inside the tent, with Ganyu and a human-shaped Zhongli gathered around Xingqiu’s body, their ministrations hiding him from view. Standing at Zhongli’s shoulder is Childe, a glow of power still passing between them.

No one looks fit enough to even make the journey to Cuijue Slope, let alone fight another battle against a would-be Archon.

Xiao unrolls another mat beside the others, and Aether gratefully collapses down onto it. The wound in his leg and another particularly deep slash over his upper arm throb in tandem, and he closes his eyes, gathering what little strength he has left for an attempt at healing. He’ll have to cleanse Xiao’s Heart too… but perhaps not right this moment.

Gentle hands unstrap the gauntlets from his arms and roll up his sleeves, and Aether exhales long and slow as Xiao’s fire-hot skin presses against his. Their bond valiantly fights to do its job, nudging energy back and forth between them like a shallow tide.

--

Aether must fall asleep, because the next thing he knows, he’s lying under a blanket with his armor stripped off, his skin is damp and not caked in dried blood and dirt, and Zhongli is speaking quietly from somewhere across the tent.

“…He may perhaps live,” Zhongli says, “if given a caretaker of sufficient skill. But Saizhen is almost free, and we do not have the resources to spare.” He sounds exhausted beyond measure.

“I… I could stay with him,” Chongyun whispers, but there is no conviction in his voice.

“What I would give to allow that,” Zhongli groans. “But without you, this battle will be lost before it can begin… and though your talents are many, Xingqiu needs more than the healing you could provide him now.”

Silence falls.

“…Perhaps there is one other option,” Zhongli says after a while.

“What is it?”

A pulse of geo ripples through the ground. “Old friend, I would request your aid one last time.”

Chongyun makes a confused sound, and then a sudden gust of wind sets the panels of their tent to flapping, and the scarred hand holding Aether’s squeezes tight.

“One last time?” Venti says as he steps into the tent. “I hope you’re not planning for this to be your final battle, you absolute blockhead.”

With some effort— and help from Xiao— Aether fights his way to a sitting position to see what’s going on.

Zhongli bows his head. “I hardly wish it. Yet I must prepare for the worst.”

“Don’t be such a downer!... is what I want to say,” Venti sniffs. Then he sobers. “But Morax… it’s not looking good. This last wave of evil spirits really damaged our line, and I know Lord Rukkhadevata’s forces suffered as well. Even worse, Tsaritsa’s on the move again, and she’s already made it clear that she’s ready to swoop in when— if— you fall.”

“No more or less than I had expected,” Zhongli murmurs.

“So? Why did you call me?”

Zhongli gestures to the side, where a splay of Xingqiu’s blue hair is visible over the top of a blanket. “I understand this is a great deal to ask when your powers are already stretched thin. But if you think you could take this boy— and Shenhe— and keep them safe and alive until the battles are over… I would be in your debt.”

Tiptoeing over, Venti peels back Xingqiu’s blanket a little and sucks in a quiet breath. “I… could do it. But how did this happen? No, how did he survive?”

“I cannot say for certain. But there are traces of pyro energy on his skin that could not have come from any of us… and the last of Indarias’s power drained from the seal at the end of the battle,” Zhongli says softly. “Perhaps it was merely chance and desperate fantasy on my part. In any case, Xingqiu sacrificed himself to protect Chongyun and give us victory. If there is any way at all to spare him…”

“…Alright. But I’d better see you coming to pick your little treasures up in person when this is all over, you hear me?”

“I shall keep it in mind.”

“Thank you, Lord Barbatos,” Chongyun says shakily, and Venti pats him gently on the head.

“None of that, now. You can thank me once you have him back, if you must.”

A curl of wind scoops Xingqiu and Shenhe up off the ground, mats and blankets and all, and then both they and Venti are gone.

A single sob leaves Chongyun’s mouth, and to Aether’s surprise, it’s Childe of all people who kneels to pull Chongyun’s head against his shoulder. He says nothing, but hides Chongyun from the world, slowly rubbing a palm up and down Chongyun’s back— and Aether is suddenly reminded that Childe is first and foremost an older brother, no matter how much time he’s spent away from his family.

“Ah. Aether, you’re awake,” Zhongli says wearily, and Aether nods. “How are you feeling?”

Aether considers it. The worst of his wounds have been bandaged, and the time spent touching Xiao had helped, but… “Not great. I may be able to travel, but I doubt I’ll be much help on the battlefield as things stand.”

“That is… not ideal.” Zhongli says, an understatement of epic proportions. Briefly, he tugs open the fabric of his collar to show Aether a splash of blackened skin and crawling veins that cover half his torso. “The Chi poisoned me with that final strike, and I have neither the time nor strength to heal it. As it is, Childe’s presence may be the only thing keeping me upright.”

“Then, Saizhen…?” Aether prompts reluctantly.

“We have no choice. We will have to go as we are.”

 

They risk another hour of rest at the Qingce camp, long enough to choke down a little food and tend to wounds one last time— but when the trickle of shades in the distance turns to something much more like a river, Aether knows their time is up.

Zhongli flies, carrying Childe and only Childe on his back. Aether and Xiao still have the strength to move on their own, and so do Moon Carver, Mountain Shaper, and Cloud Retainer. Ganyu and Chongyun, on the other hand, have neither elements nor bodies suited for mobility, and they are too weak to compensate in other ways. At least Shenhe and Xingqiu are safely out of the way, so they don’t have to worry about leaving anyone behind.

In the end, Moon Carver and Mountain Shaper carry the two who cannot fly, and they set out for the ominously dark skies over Cuijue.

As they draw closer, however, Aether notices something strange. The flow of shades they’d seen from Qingce apparently is not unique— two more rivers pour out from Cuijue Slope to form an almost perfect triangle of attack. The ground is clear, and no shades or demons seem to be straying from their paths. One force is headed toward Liyue Harbor, he realizes. The second is aimed at Mondstadt, or perhaps Stone Gate. And the third strikes out for the Chasm— and beyond that, Sumeru.

This is strategic. Not just a hapless outpouring of corruption, but an army that is well-controlled, and, apparently, not required to protect its source.

Fear wraps around Aether’s spine and coils in his gut. Azhdaha had been weak, and the Chi, mindless— but what if Saizhen has retained both strength and sense of self to go along with his centuries of festering hatred?

When they land in the pit of Cuijue, surrounded by cracking pillars and shadowed by the outpouring of corruption into the sky, it is eerily silent. Miasma swirls out from the great rifts in the ground, but they are otherwise unimpeded by battle as they make their way to the center of the seal.

Chongyun is kept safely in the center of their group, with everyone else arranged like an honor guard around him. Zhongli leads, Childe still on his back.

They come to a stop before the column of writhing darkness that stretches up into the air, but even at this distance, nothing attacks them. Zhongli turns to face the rest of them, his expression grave.

“It seems Saizhen’s goal is not merely my defeat, but the throne of the Geo Archon. I do not understand how he has retained enough of himself to command these demons to carry out his will, but it only makes him more dangerous.” Zhongli brings them back to an uncracked patch of ground closer to the edge of the pit. “This peace may be nothing more than a façade, but let us rest while we can.”

It is painful to breathe and just about impossible to relax in these corrupted spaces, but what else can they do? Aether gently guides Chongyun down onto a patch of smooth stone and settles beside him, taking one of his hands. Unlatching Chongyun’s gauntlet and rolling back his glove, Aether traces along Chongyun’s palm and fingers, sacrificing the tiniest scrap of power to soothe the blood and blisters he finds there.

Chongyun clings to him, but says nothing, and doesn’t otherwise react even when the others cluster around them. Aether can hardly blame him. Even if Xingqiu is alive and will almost certainly stay that way under Venti’s care, the sight of his broken body alone…

Aether hopes that once this is all over, Xingqiu will be able to recover enough to at least eat and speak and move his hands.

Softly, he hums a fragment of the nocturne he and Xiao had shared in the darkest, loneliest nights all those centuries ago, and Chongyun closes his eyes, head falling heavily against Aether’s shoulder. Aether strokes through his sweat and blood-crusted hair and tries not to cry.

 

--

 

Eventually, the churning pillar of corruption begins to die out, and Zhongli nudges them all into the best battle formation they will be able to maintain in their exhausted state— but Saizhen never appears. The cracks in the center of the pit grow wider, yes, and the miasma thickens, but nothing emerges.

The stillness makes Aether’s skin crawl, because he knows, oh how he knows just how dangerous Saizhen can be. If the god had sent away his army of shades and demons, that means he is utterly confident in his own strength. And the fact that he isn’t rising to Zhongli’s challenge… is this a trap, a distraction as he makes a move elsewhere, or something else entirely?

At the very least, they can be certain that Saizhen hasn’t broken the surface of Liyue, or they would all have felt it— but that is small comfort indeed.

As the agonizing minutes drag on, Aether can see Zhongli coming to the same conclusions, and they are rearranged into a circular formation that cannot be caught off guard from any side. Chongyun remains in the middle, performing his duty of purification just as well now as he had against the other gods, but too distant and shaken to be allowed into the thick of battle.

They wait, vigilance helplessly draining away when nothing comes for it to catch. The miasma drifts chokingly around them.

The ground rumbles, once.

It is the only warning they get before the stone wall beside which they stand splits open, and a hundred tendrils of darkness lash out.

 

“Guard Chongyun!” Xiao barks, a general in his element. “Close the flanks, and do not let Lord Rex fall!”

Aether leaps to do so, covering Chongyun’s back as Xiao and Ganyu sweep in to assist Zhongli, and the guardian adepti of Jueyun Karst fan out to the sides. It leaves him facing the center of the pit, back to the wall, so he can only rely on sound to tell him the tides of battle.

Zhongli roars, half pain and half fury, and Childe echoes the sound. Geo crackles alongside the pounding of water against stone, and terrible squelching noises fill the air as tendrils are presumably severed.

Despite their collective exhaustion, victory seems assured.

It had been a shocking attack, one that certainly could have done damage if they’d been unprepared, but unease still gnaws away at Aether’s gut. Saizhen should be stronger than this. His unsealing should have assaulted Aether’s senses, turned the world to a sunless nightmare. But more than that, this attack had come without a word, when the Saizhen Aether remembers would not have hesitated to gloat and mock.

His heart slams against his ribs as he furiously scans the curve of the pit over and over, searching for something, anything to warn him of the true threat—

When it does come, though, he barely even has time to scream.

“Zhongli, RUN!”

Aether throws up his sword and a barrier in the same motion, and in the next moment, he and Chongyun are enveloped in shadow as the earth is sundered and Saizhen surges forth.

“Ah, freedom at last!” Saizhen crows— but suddenly, Aether is far, far away.

For there before him, somewhere in the deep mire of Saizhen’s prison, is the faint, silvery pulse of Lumine.

How long has it been since he’s felt it, since the two halves of Fate’s star have been whole? How many millennia has Aether hoped, searched, ached, pleaded for her to return to him? How often had he wondered if she had simply abandoned him entirely, or if she had met an even worse fate than Aether upon arriving in this world?

“Lumine,” he whispers. “Lumine.”

There is no response. And why would there be? Now that Aether can breathe beyond the shock of finding her once more, he can feel the agony that stains her light, the gouged-out hollow of her power. She needs him, desperately— and has she truly been trapped in this place with the God of Dreams and Terrors for all these years?

Guilt threatens to consume Aether whole, but he does not allow it. Now is not the time for distractions.

A frisson of pain leaps through his chest, then, and Aether wheels around. Xiao. Something terrible is happening beyond the dark veil, but he can’t see, can’t leave Chongyun vulnerable and charge forth on his own—

The shadows flow over them to reveal the visible world again, and Aether grabs Chongyun’s shoulders, throwing him behind himself as he stares in horror.

Xiao has been thrown to the side, blood splashed across his back as he slumps in the grass, body heaving. Above his head, Ganyu, Cloud Retainer, Moon Carver, and Mountain Shaper attack Saizhen’s corruption-darkened wings to no avail— Saizhen simply flicks them away each time as if they are little more than annoying gnats. Beyond them, Childe is dangling from Zhongli’s neck, holding on by nothing more than a hand in Zhongli’s mane. Shockwaves from the adepti’s strikes and Saizhen’s counters batter him back and forth, keeping him from finding better purchase.

Finally, like a crowning jewel to the scene, a blood diamond in the darkness— Zhongli’s proud and golden body writhes around the talon Saizhen has sunk deep into his chest.

“I have been waiting for this moment for a long, long time,” Saizhen purrs, and the very stones around them scream and crack with Zhongli’s unmistakable torment. “At last… the gnosis.”

It’s the worst possible outcome. The end of the world, at least as they have known it.

Wake up! Aether pleads into the void, latching on to the fragments of Lumine’s presence and calling out. I’m here, Lumine. Please, I need you. Come to me! Joining hands for even just a moment would be enough to solve everything—

But once again, he is met by deafening silence.

 

An awful, wet cough leaves Zhongli’s throat, and he slumps as Saizhen rips his talon free. For an object of such great power, the geo gnosis is small and unassuming, a simple amber chess piece that glows faintly in Saizhen’s hold.

“So this is the great Rex Lapis? Saizhen laughs, long and echoing. “How pathetic. Fooled by a simple trick and felled by a single attack. Where are your armies, oh Archon? I am ready to take my place on the throne. You could never hope to oppose me like this. But at the very least, I am grateful that you brought my old weapon back to me. As thanks, I will allow you a swift death.”

“No,” Zhongli groans, dragging himself from the crumpled pile into which he had fallen after Saizhen had finished with him. Childe is on his back once more, but laid flat against his scales, as if stunned. “Xiao… will never return to you. I will not allow it.”

“Oh, is that what you call it now? How… sentimental.”

Please, Lumine, please. I don’t know what else to do. I have too much to protect, and not enough power with which to protect it. Again and again, Aether sends the pulsing call through the ground, only for each attempt to be devoured by the void.

“Chongyun,” he says quietly.

“Aether… what do we do?” Even Chongyun’s whisper is trembling.

“I… I’ll figure it out. For now, we need to get that gnosis away from the God of Dreams. I can fix all of this… but only if she’ll wake up,” Aether replies, eyes fixed firmly upon the gnosis as Saizhen holds it up to what might generously be called sunlight.

“She?”

“Stick close to me. If we can shake Saizhen for even a moment, it might be enough for one of the adepti to take back the gnosis.”

Chongyun nods frantically, and, sword in hand, Aether creeps toward Saizhen’s towering body.

Lumine! he tries one last time— but there is no response. He’ll have to find a different way of reaching her, it seems. Until then, he cannot spare the energy to so much as fret over it.

When Chongyun unleashes a burst of clean power, Aether lunges.

Saizhen roars as Aether’s blade slices into his underbelly, its protective layer of corruption scorched away by Chongyun’s power. Dark ichor splatters across the ground and burns through the fabric parts of Aether’s armor all the way down to the skin.

“You!”

In the next instant, Aether is pushing Chongyun away just in time to be struck across the entire body by Saizhen’s iron-edged wing and sent crashing into the stone wall beside Xiao.

If the time he’d lost control of his new anemo powers had been painful, this is immeasurably worse, and he coughs up a spray of bright blood as his head spins and his vision blurs. A concussion. That’s… bad. Yes.

Desperately, he reaches out for the fuzzy outline of Xiao’s hand he can see lying on the ground just a step away.

“Mere insects, daring to defy me!— when I take the throne, you will all learn your place,” Saizhen rages.

Aether squints up at him, then smiles through copper-drenched teeth.

 

Far above, Childe throws himself from the peak of Zhongli’s head and through the air, fingers closing around the gnosis. It slips cleanly from Saizhen’s distracted grasp, and Saizhen is too slow to snatch it back as Childe tumbles to the ground.

Saizhen pauses for a moment, fury strong enough to feel scraping through the air— then, with a flap of his wings, he blasts back the adepti still attacking him and swoops down to look Childe in the face. “And what, maggot,” he hisses, “do you hope to achieve with the tools of the gods?”

And Childe grins up at him with far too many teeth, eyes wild and spiral horn on his head aglow. “More than you could ever hope to imagine, O filthy, decrepit feather duster.”

 

Saizhen’s talon plunges toward him, and Childe wastes no time in sinking the gnosis deep into his own chest.

Notes:

Scream at me on Tumblr! I'll see you all again next weekend :)

Chapter 56: Never Say Goodbye

Notes:

Oh you're all gonna love this one

TW: not very sexy D/S scenes, war violence, semi-graphic blood/injury, non-gory torture, emotional damage

"Childe, no!" Zhongli cries— but it’s already too late. Childe’s hand emerges from his own chest, unbloodied, but empty.

A wild snarl twisting across his face, Childe then turns to Saizhen, and for a few frozen moments, it seems Saizhen is genuinely stunned. He doesn’t react even when Childe spreads his arms in taunt.

The peace doesn’t last long, though, because in the next breath, Childe begins to change.

A wave of raw power crashes over them all, forcing Saizhen back and setting Aether’s head to throbbing, and Childe screams. It is horrible to watch, and yet Aether cannot tear his gaze away.

Childe’s armor cracks and tears as his body outgrows it, deep blue scales edged in blood erupt from his skin, glinting copper forms his mane and tail, and instead of two branching horns like Zhongli’s, Childe’s singular horn simply lengthens to match his size.

A strangled sob leaves his mouth as his hands strike the ground as claws and his limbs twist backward, muscles tearing and joints ripping apart. His eyes, when they open, are one blue and one amber, just as if he were sharing his body with Zhongli. The sight is only made more striking when they begin to weep bright ichor.

“How?!” Saizhen roars, clawing his way step by step back toward Childe.

“Childe, please, don’t do this,” Zhongli begs. “Your body will not be able to withstand the power of a gnosis! If you take it out now—”

“Shut up, Xiansheng,” Childe growls, voice now deep as the earth and relentless as the crashing rapids. He flexes his new claws as the wind dies down. “As if I’d just sit back and watch you die.”

Childe does make a lovely dragon, Aether thinks distantly— azure and lithe and deadly. If only his aura wasn’t so obviously, dangerously unstable.

“You will regret this, fool!” Saizhen lunges before Zhongli can even begin to respond, and small dragon and great raven clash in a terrible screech of talons.

Aether has no idea how impossible Childe’s transformation should have been, but by the looks on Xiao’s and Zhongli’s faces, it’s a miracle that Childe is still alive. By the way he’d been bleeding though, he probably doesn’t have long, especially in a fight against Saizhen, so Aether desperately pulls himself back together.

“Chongyun,” he gasps, and Chongyun scrambles over from where he’d been hiding behind a stone to escape the blast of Childe’s power. “While Childe can still buy us time, focus on cleansing as much of Zhongli’s poison as possible. Once Childe falls, we’ll need to get the gnosis back into a vessel— and I don’t think anyone other than Zhongli will be able to hold it.”

“R-right,” Chongyun stammers, and he immediately darts to Zhongli’s side. His fingers tremulously reach for Zhongli’s flank as Zhongli strains up toward the sky where Saizhen and Childe had flown to carry out their battle.

Incredibly, Childe seems to be holding his own, with broken feathers and bloody scales raining down in equal measure— but against Saizhen, Aether already knows it cannot last.

“Childe,” Zhongli keens, misery in a sound. “Childe.”

Ganyu returns then, hurrying over to Xiao’s side as the three guardian adepti also take to the sky, swooping in and out to harry Saizhen wherever Childe gives them the chance.

“Back, side, temple, arm,” she mutters, fingers fluttering over Xiao’s body as she categories his injuries. “Aether, your head and leg—”

“My leg will hold,” Aether slurs a little. “It healed enough before we left Qingce. My head… I don’t know.”

Her fingertips are cool relief when they come to press against his temples. “Stay with Xiao— your bond should help stabilize it, at least,” she says, ragged. “I need to protect Chongyun and Lord Rex.”

“Go,” Aether manages, and she disappears from his sight. Painfully rolling over, he manages to get both his hands around one of Xiao’s. At once, a rolling tide of fear washes over him, sinking into his bones, and he can do nothing but breathe through it.

Of course. After all, to Xiao, this is far from a normal battle. Far from a normal enemy.

“Oh, love,” Aether whispers, pulling the fear into himself and allowing his own comfort to flow over it.

“Please,” Xiao croaks, and suddenly Aether is being dragged physically close as well, Xiao’s arms wrapping painfully around him as their chests press together. As if Xiao is trying to force Aether’s whole person into the hollow his Heart had once occupied.

Unable to move his own arms, Aether tips his head up a little to let his teeth scrape over the sliver of exposed skin beneath Xiao’s jaw, a reminder and promise all in one. Xiao trembles.

Turning inward to focus on their bond, Aether briskly takes stock of their injuries. Xiao’s back is slashed open from shoulder to hip, but thankfully not quite deeply enough to have severed his spine and induced a much longer recovery. There is also a swathe of deep, aching bruises along Xiao’s side and front, presumably from where Saizhen had flung him aside. Aether can feel some of the same injuries blooming under his own skin.

Beyond that, their other wounds are either shallow and not in need of immediate attention, or else left over from the battle against the Chi. Aether turns his energy to the slash on Xiao’s back and closes his eyes, feeling Xiao’s healing begin to curl gently around his skull in return.

Lumine. Aether sends the call again, more and more hopeless every time. I don’t think we can last much longer like this. Please, if you’re there…

Xiao makes a soft, questioning noise, and oh, of course he can feel Aether’s expenditure of energy.

“It’s okay. I’m just trying to wake Lumine,” Aether murmurs into the ragged plates of his armor.

“Lumine…. Your sister,” Xiao says faintly.

“That’s right.” They don’t speak of her often, and Aether is somehow surprised Xiao had remembered so easily. “I don’t know how, but… she’s here. In Saizhen’s prison. I keep calling out to her, but her light is…” he swallows, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “It’s very dim. I don’t think she can hear me like this.”

“…She is that light?”

Aether jolts back to look up into his face. The way Xiao had said it…“You’ve seen it? You can sense her too?” he asks urgently. He hadn’t expected that anyone would even be able to pick it out if they weren’t already searching.

“I… believe I felt her presence once, long ago when Bonanus sacrificed herself to renew the seal over this place. I had thought it strange to find a light within such deep corruption, but… in that moment, it was of no consequence to me.” Xiao drops his gaze.

“That’s not your fault, Xiao,” Aether hurries to reassure him. Then he leans his head against Xiao’s collarbone once more. “…If she was there when you replaced the seal though, she must have been there even before that.”

“The span of the seal did not change,” Xiao confirms. “And nothing could possibly have entered at the time it was renewed.”

“So from the end of the Archon War…” But no, Lumine would never have simply sat and waited while a defeated god, especially one as foul as Saizhen, was pressed into the ground and sealed alongside her. She would never have waited… unless there had been no other choice.

“…She was still asleep,” Aether concludes out loud, horror crawling through his veins. They had landed at the same time, after all, but he had woken first, and Lumine had never even been given the chance to leave before fate was forced upon her. How long has it been? Four thousand years? Five?

Worse, with her energy as depleted as it is… there is no mistaking that the God of Dreams has been leeching off her light all this time. It easily explains why Saizhen is so powerful, when he should have long degraded like the Chi.

No wonder Lumine does not answer Aether’s desperate calls. He wonders if there’s anything left of her at all; if he will be able to heal her even if they do reunite.

“Lumine…” he mourns.

Xiao holds him tighter, a quiet, patient vessel for Aether’s grief, and Aether does not have the strength to refuse the offer.

 

Somewhere in the distance, a terrible screech echoes across the pit, and Zhongli cries out in unison, the ground rumbling as he lurches to his feet. Aether knows what sight will greet him even before he can turn over and search the sky.

Childe is falling, a vivid stream in the shadows. Above him, Saizhen’s tattered wings are spread wide and triumphant, heralds of the pinions that are now impaled through all of Childe’s limbs.

There’s nothing any of them can do, and Childe hits the ground in an explosion of miasma and dust. Zhongli stumbles with the crash, but he doesn’t collapse entirely, so Aether can at least presume that Childe is still alive.

“Release me, Ganyu,” Zhongli pants. “I must go to him.”

“Lord Rex, if you go there now, there will be nothing to stop the God of Dreams from simply striking you down at once. Please, Childe’s sacrifice for you must not be in vain!” Ganyu sounds close to tears.

“Yet if he dies for me, then I will have broken my promise to him.” Zhongli strains forward, pressing against Ganyu’s faint cryo barrier. “If he were to fall alone as I hid to protect myself…”

“I will go in your stead,” Ganyu offers pleadingly. “Please, Lord Rex, remain with Chongyun. I will not fail you.”

After a long moment, Zhongli’s head falls, and Ganyu darts off without another word.

She is swift— even drained as she is, putting everything on the line for her Archon. But Aether can already see that is just isn’t enough.

Sure enough, Saizhen slowly descends from the sky beside Childe— where had the three guardian adepti gone?— and slams a talon down over Childe’s neck. Of course Childe convulses, his sinuous body thrashing over the ground as he tries to fight back, but it is no use.

Perhaps out of spite, perhaps out of fury for having been thwarted by a mortal, Saizhen sinks both talons into Childe’s chest and tears him open—

Bone cracks, flesh rends, and the cry that rises from both Zhongli and Childe in that moment is one Aether hopes has never been heard on Teyvat before, nor ever will be again. Unable to watch for even a moment longer, he turns his head away, still desperately, uselessly reaching for Lumine.

There will be no stopping Saizhen from claiming the gnosis this time. All Aether can do now is plan for what might very well be their final attack.

“Aether,” Xiao rasps urgently. “Childe will die soon, with or without the gnosis. Lord Rex will follow if we cannot restore his power.”

“I know,” Aether groans. “I know. But what can we do?”

“…Saizhen wants me,” Xiao says with deathly certainty. “If I offer myself up, he may yet be diverted long enough for you or Ganyu to retrieve the gnosis.”

“No,” Aether says instantly. “That’s not— that’s unacceptable. I won’t allow it. None of us will.”

“You told me to do my duty. To protect you and Lord Rex,” Xiao says quietly. “This is all I have.”

Aether opens his mouth again to argue, only to be cut off by a furious roar from Saizhen.

“Worthless!” the great raven screams. “Ruined by mortal filth!”

Something comes whistling through the air to impact the ground before Zhongli. It is the gnosis— but rather than a castle of gold and pure amber, it is now distorted into a shape like a curling wave, the hydro-threaded amber within banded by silver.

“Do you see now, Rex Lapis?” Saizhen demands. “The taint that mortals cast upon divinity when allowed to reach beyond their place? Take the gnosis. It is of no use to me anymore.”

Wide-eyed, Aether and Xiao look at each other. Saizhen has solved their greatest problem for them— and Zhongli surely will not care, will be overjoyed, even, that his Heart has been irreversibly touched by Childe’s power.

“You don’t need to give yourself up,” Aether whispers. “Go to Childe and help him, and I’ll stay with Zhongli and Chongyun. We may still have a chance.”

 

A great shadow falls over them.

 

-*-

 

Xiao’s ribs creak and ache under Saizhen’s crushing grip as he is carried away from the wall, away from his beloved, and out into the open desolation of the pit. He refuses to give Saizhen the satisfaction of making a sound, and neither does Aether cry out after him— though Lord Rex and Chongyun do. Still, Xiao can feel Aether’s utter terror flooding down the bond to mix with his own, and that is comfort enough in its own way.

“Ah, my precious little weapon," Saizhen purrs, and Xiao flinches away from his hot, fetid breath. “How long has it been since I last held you? Have you enjoyed your traitorous years with this pathetic Archon?”

Xiao stubbornly remains silent, even when the talon squeezes harder around him.

“I see your obstinacy has only grown in the years of carrying your own Heart,” Saizhen sighs. “No matter. It will be simple enough to rein in once more. I am allowing you a second chance to join me, Alatus. I suggest you take it.”

“I left Alatus behind the very day Lord Rex Lapis defeated and sealed you in this place,” Xiao bites out. “And I will never be so foolish as to offer you my Heart again.”

Saizhen’s face twists with something ugly. “You have forgotten discipline as well, it seems. But I will make this easy for you. Relinquish your Heart now, and I will not hurt you. Resist, and you will not know rest until you choose the correct path.”

An icy jolt tugs at the pit of Xiao’s stomach, familiar commands in a familiar voice, compelling his body to obey. But the feeling passes, and despite everything, Xiao cannot help but laugh, a short and harsh sound. “There is no worse torment than to live under your rule,” he says, then falls silent again.

“…Then I suppose I have no choice,” Saizhen intones.

In the next instant, Xiao’s body is alight, scorching with black flame from the inside out as Saizhen pulls at something deep inside him— at the power of dreams he had carved into Xiao’s soul so long ago.

Foolish. It was utterly foolish of Xiao to believe that Saizhen would so easily have let him run free.

The agony turns his mind to a blur of pure white as Saizhen again demands his subservience, and his instincts scream at him to obey—

But even if Xiao had wanted to submit, his Heart no longer belongs to him alone.

“Xiao,” Aether lilts, soft and intoxicating, and Xiao opens his eyes to seek his master. In that moment, it is all he desires.

Aether is on his knees in Saizhen’s shadow, blood still leaking from a split at his hairline, trickling down his brow and into his eyes. He had dragged himself forward while Xiao and Saizhen were caught up in each other, it seems, and now he rests in the very heart of danger.

Saizhen wrenches at Xiao’s soul again, and this time he cannot hold back a harsh gasp of breath— but Aether takes hold of the bond and pulls back, his golden light reaching down and down until Xiao is entirely filled with him.

The agony fades. Xiao’s vision narrows down to the only thing that matters.

“That is not your master, Xiao,” Aether says quietly, yet his words ring in Xiao’s ears. “Do not falter, beloved. You have chosen me, and I will not allow another to steal you away.”

“Yes, master,” Xiao rasps.

“This…” Saizhen growls. “This is the rat I imprisoned for daring to touch what is mine. First Rex Lapis, and now you, Alatus? Is it so difficult to realize that mortals belong far beneath our kind? When will this madness end?”

“When you come to understand that anything would be better than submitting to you,” Aether says, dangerously calm. “I believe you personally ensured that would be the lesson Xiao learned. And he will never be yours again. Return him to me.”

Saizhen laughs, low and mocking. “I am afraid you underestimate my capabilities, foolish little worm.”

“And you underestimate mine.” Aether returns. “Look at me, Xiao.”

It is an order, a demand, one made with all the certainty that it will be obeyed without question or hesitation. Xiao gratefully releases himself to Aether’s will.

Distantly, he can feel Saizhen’s attempts to sink claws into his soul, twisting his power over dreams this way and that— but though Xiao’s body convulses, hot blood overflowing his lips, the pain is no longer his to feel. Aether has taken it all, and Xiao stares feverishly down into the deep, glassy sorrow of his eyes.

“That’s right, Xiao,” Aether murmurs. “None of that belongs to you. I forbid you from touching it.”

“Yes, master.”

Aether croons something unintelligible, but the bond is full to bursting with love and fury and desperation, and Xiao needs no words to understand. The world would fall and they would both decay with it before Aether would ever abandon him to Saizhen’s mercies again.

“No!” Saizhen snarls, far away. “He is mine.”

“Is that so? But that is entirely up to the held, not the holder, don’t you think? Tell me, Xiao. What are you?” Aether’s voice cuts through the muffled stillness, and Xiao is bound to respond.

“Yours, master,” he slurs. There is a great pressure in his head; behind his eyes, and a liquid too thick to be water is rolling down his cheeks. “My Heart is in your hands.”

“Just so,” Aether says. “You don’t need to worry about anything else, beloved. I take care of what belongs to me.” Despite his gentle tone, Aether’s last words are a challenge— and Saizhen takes them as such.

“Yes, I see it now. So, Alatus gave in to a thing like you? Pathetic.”

In a dizzying rush of movement, Xiao is tossed aside, and he barely catches himself on his hands and knees in the gravel. Blood pounds in his ears as he struggles against the inexplicable sluggishness of his own body— and when he finally looks up, it is to see Aether trapped in Saizhen’s grasp.

Again, a pulse of energy sweeps through the earth and air; Aether’s frantic call for his sister.

“It seems you must first be broken instead,” Saizhen says gleefully. “Fool who thinks to burden himself with an adeptus’ Heart.”

No, no. Xiao is the one meant to bear the weight of Saizhen’s tyranny; the one who should be protecting his master, not the other way around. With all his strength, he drags a foot up beneath himself, staggers to one knee—

“Stay down, Xiao,” Aether says, cold and clear. “Did I not say I would take care of you? Trust me. You’ve done well. Your work is finished.”

Except it cannot, must not be finished, not when his master is still crying out in Saizhen’s crushing talons and the bond is turning dim and gray, fading away, dying—

Xiao rages against his own urge to submit, a storm to strip away the ocean of gold that had so filled and soothed him before. As control returns, so does the pain, drop by drop, and Xiao begins to understand the terror that had underlain Aether’s final command. His body is falling apart from the inside out, destroyed by Saizhen’s touch.

But for Aether, he will fight down to the very last piece of himself.

“This will be a most fitting punishment, I believe,” Saizhen muses, and power sparkles to life along his feathers. Faint glimmers of light and shadow that conceal endless nightmares beneath. The dream prism.

Any warmth that had remained in Xiao’s limbs drains away just as swiftly as Aether’s move to slam down on his end of the bond, cutting off all feeling. It is not fast enough to stop Xiao from drinking in the well of his terror.

Whatever it takes— Aether must never be plunged into that hell again. But what can Xiao do without help?

From somewhere behind him, flickering cryo coalesces— then soars forward in an attack aimed straight for Saizhen’s skull. It is beautiful and merciless, great blades of ice accompanied by a wild surge of yang energy strong enough to strip corruption from everything in its path and force Saizhen back a step—

…But it is only one step; one attack, and Saizhen regains ground just in time to flap both wings forward and let the cryo splash over his feathers. It still shatters them, broken vanes and down crumbling away in ice, but in exchange, Chongyun’s power, too, withdraws.

Xiao’s body groans under the weight of Saizhen’s barely suppressed presence, and hopelessness threatens to numb his limbs— but he has long grown used to pushing on through a meaningless world.

“How irritating,” Saizhen says disdainfully, shaking off the last ice-encrusted feathers to complete the massive gaps in his wings. Once again, that glittering light and dark creeps over them, and Xiao can think of only one thing to stand in its way.

“Master, please,” he begs, his throat full of thorns. “Give me your dreams. I can carry them.”

Aether’s eyes meet his, wide and despairing, and Xiao can see the moment he crumbles. The prism descends over his head.

Xiao gathers all his coalescing nightmares as one and devours them whole.

It hurts. It sinks Xiao back into days of villages of ash and hands stained with blood, to mortal weeping and chains of karma. The dark threads do not stop unspooling from Aether’s mind because the dream prism never stops weaving them— and Xiao knows, he knows he is hurting Aether too. He has not the time to be as careful with Aether as he should.

But the iron doors that had slammed shut over Aether’s side of the bond ease open just a fraction. Enough for Xiao to feel that just like the pain of Saizhen’s hold had not touched him, the terror of nightmares has not reached Aether either. For that alone, Xiao could bear this burden forever.

As he devours Aether’s dream threads, faint impressions float to the surface, bitter on his tongue.

Again, Aether falls through the void, stripped of the stars that were his right.

Again, Xiao sees towering white pillars and clouds that drift endlessly, a hand that reaches out to destroy.

Again, ribbons of a pale dress slip though Aether’s fingers as he cries, cries out, desperately calling for his other half—

The earth trembles.

And between one blink and the next, Cuijue Slope explodes.

 

 

 

What rises from the pit is at first obscured by dust and falling stones— and they are all fortunate for it, because it allows them the time to understand and fear before it is truly unveiled.

Lumine— for who else could it be?— is not simply the absence of light, but the inversion of it, a void into which Xiao dares not stare for fear of losing his mind in an instant. Six great wings of nothingness stretch up to the sky— Xiao can see the very tips eating away at existence. She is nothing like the ruin of the Chi, a fallen shadow of what had once been. No, this is divinity changed, a vessel of a universe that could not disperse, yet also could not remain.

“Lumine! To me!” Aether cries, ragged and laborious under the pressure of Saizhen’s grip—

The void flashes, and suddenly Saizhen is falling, utterly silent as feathers explode from his back and ichor drips into the dust. His body strikes the ground with a dull crash, but Aether does not tumble down with him.

Instead, the sky cracks, filling with light, and Xiao has no choice but to close his eyes, crying out a warning to Lord Rex and the others as he does so. Still, he does not need sight to feel his Heart ablaze in Aether’s chest as something strains— gives—

Breaks free—

Wild joy pours down the bond, and a love and passion great enough to encompass the stars drowns Xiao’s mind. Power surges with it, an inferno to dwarf anything Xiao could ever hope to draw forth on his own. It is relief and agony all in one, and he slumps to the ground as the karma on his Heart is purged right alongside the corruption of Aether’s other half.

“Aether,” he whispers, blind and disoriented, desperately wishing he could seek out his bond, yet somehow knowing that to try in this moment would be to give up his life.

Around him, the air clears, the beginnings of a cool breeze stirring over his skin. Thunderous wingbeats echo overhead, and something tickles at the skin of Xiao’s exposed fingers— young sprouts of grass, peeking up from the earth.

There is little room left within himself to contain emotion of his own, yet awe trickles through nonetheless. Aether… Aether is restoring everything.

“Xiao,” a voice calls softly, and an infinitely warm touch curls around the back of Xiao’s neck. He gasps, helpless, weakly pressing back into the hand that is both strange and familiar, both soothing and searching.

Power streams into his limbs through the touch, and Xiao can feel his wounds stitching shut, his bones creaking back into place, his sluggish blood flowing steadily once more. Damage that should have burdened him for days and months, wiped away as easily as the smears of dust on his skin.

“Go forth, love,” the Aether-who-has-become-something-other says, and Xiao rises to his feet, spear materializing in hand. “Take what is rightfully yours.”

There is no question of what Aether is commanding.

Pacing forward, Xiao comes to a halt at Saizhen’s fallen head, and one bright, iridescent eye flickers open to stare at him.

“Alatus… what have you done?”

“That is not my name,” Xiao says coldly. And, raising his spear, he gathers all of his power— every gust of wind from his Vision, every scrap of adeptal fire, every pure offering Aether has ever gifted him, every dream thread, every promise Lord Rex had made— and strikes. Saizhen’s wings sweep up on one final attempt to save himself— but they have been plucked and shattered and bloodied to nothing by the sacrifices of those who came before, and Xiao meets no resistance at all as he plunges his blade deep into Saizhen’s skull.

Saizhen howls as jade slices through feather and corruption to flesh and bone. Then he falls silent.

It had been so easy. Thousands of years of suffering and war, and its source is allowed to atone in an instant?

Corruption whisps away into the air as Aether’s presence scorches it into nothing, and with a flash of light, even Saizhen’s dissolving remnants disappear. A god not sealed, but completely erased from the Ley.

“And so it is finished,” not-quite-Aether sighs, and Xiao can sense something coming to land behind him. “I know it was hard, Xiao. But you’ve done so well.”

Aether had not even established a new tie of give and take, of command and obedience between them, but Xiao still shudders under the praise.

“Look at me.”

“I—I cannot,” Xiao says, aching.

A gentle laugh. “I am not so weak as to be unable to protect you from myself, love. Even if it is only once, I would like you to see another truth of me.”

So Xiao opens his eyes, squinting against the light that sears his shadow-attuned senses. Turns and lifts his head.

Before him towers… a star. Xiao dares not, cannot describe it as anything else. The bond in his chest stretches out and up to a star no longer contained by mortal flesh, a star with wings that encompass the sky and shield him from all danger, a star that is both darkness and light in one.

Somehow, he knows that it is Aether’s face alone into which he stares, even as its radiance brings tears to stream down his cheeks. Before him, two threads of existence are twined into one, but the first is strong, while the second is weak, tucked safely away behind the first to rest.

Hands reach out from the star to gently cup Xiao’s face, fingers tracing along his jaw and into his hair. He whines pitifully, but is entirely unable to tear himself away.

“I love you, Xiao,” Aether murmurs. “You have done more for me— you mean more to me than you could ever imagine. Thank you.”

More hands appear and sink into the center of the star. “And now… I believe it is time I returned this to you.”

Xiao fails to understand what Aether has done until his own palms are lifted and open, and his Heart has come to nestle between them. He stares and stares.

What had once been a glittering crystal faceted in every color, then muddied and ruined by corruption, is now a vessel of the stars. Every sharp edge has been worn and softened by time, the colors have mingled to something dark, but clear and gentle, and through each crystal window, a thousand flickering pinpricks of light can be seen. A Heart that still belongs to shadow, but a kind shadow, one that hides and protects and shows lights within to guide lost souls home.

The warm hands around Xiao’s face part from his skin, and suddenly his Heart is of no consequence at all, because—

“Aether!” he screams, winds sweeping in at his call so he may chase into the sky after Aether’s retreating form. “Please—!”

Twelve great wings flap as one, sending a shower of pure light over the battlefield.

Rest well, love. You have more than earned it, whispers the last vestige of their bond. Celestial power brushes across Xiao’s brow, his lips, and then—

He tumbles back to the earth.

 

Xiao’s new Heart sits innocently in his hands. The world settles, peaceful and slowly mending around him. Frantic voices and footsteps gather at his side as Lord Rex, Chongyun, Ganyu, the guardian adepti, and even Childe all finally reach him, their bodies healed and whole.

And Aether is gone.

 

 

-*-

 

 

An eon of time and space away, Fate sets down her shears, the last of a strained and weary thread slipping through her fingers. The loom had held. The universe is restored, and her children are safe.

With light touches, she feeds a new spool into the shuttle and passes it through the weave, satisfied by its strength. At long last, her work has been put to rights. It is an end, and a beginning once more.

Notes:

I have been waiting to write these scenes since like chapter 5, my life is complete now-

 

I will be traveling for most of this upcoming week, so the next chapter will probably be delayed to the end of the month, though I'll do my best to keep writing! Keep an eye on my Tumblr to check on progress and see if anything changes as I deal with a pretty hectic time irl! Or just come scream at me, that's always fun too <3

Chapter 57: I Swore That Day (That I Will Love You Forever)

Notes:

I'm baaaackkkkkkk
We making it out of Teyvat with this one

TW: Non-graphic description of injury

Xiao isn’t quite sure how they make it back to the palace in Jueyun Karst. How he can possibly feel so empty and ruined, yet so still at the same time, like the unbroken surface of one of the pools of Luhua.

All he knows is that one moment, he is slumped in the middle of Cuijue’s newly green fields, and in the next, he is sitting in the shade of a gilded pavilion, walled in on all sides by the coils of Lord Rex’s body. An insistent crooning fills his ears, and a gentle pressure rests upon his thigh.

Dazed, Xiao lifts his head and immediately finds one of Lord Rex’s golden eyes staring down at him. The crooning deepens to a steady purr, and Xiao leans against the rumbling scales behind him as the endless ache in his chest eases a little.

“Oh, Xiao. Precious one,” Lord Rex says through his purr, and Xiao startles at the endearment. “I thought we had lost you.”

“…I am unharmed, my Lord,” Xiao scrapes out past a dry throat and leaden tongue.

“In body, perhaps.”

Is it so important to make the distinction? Xiao tucks the thought away for later contemplation and looks down to the second presence in his lap.

Chongyun’s skin is clean and his hair is damp and draping over his eyes. Slowly, Xiao reaches out to sink his fingertips into the pale strands. The boy stirs a little, eyelids twitching, but he does not wake from his slumber.

Xiao lets his hand fall again so as not to further disturb him.

At least one of his humans is safe and healed, pure energy flowing freely through the air once more. Some distance away, he can feel the steady, resting pulse of Ganyu’s power, and beyond that, the warped quicksilver that Childe’s aura has become. No doubt the guardian adepti have returned to their own abodes to recover, for Lord Rex would not be so passively coddling Xiao here if any of the others were in danger.

Perhaps… perhaps not all was lost. Still, the stars in his Heart flicker, too large for the hollow Xiao had thought was meant to be empty forever.

“My Lord… what of…?” Xiao whispers, desperate, even though he can well feel the stripped and trailing end of the bond left in his chest.

Lord Rex rumbles sorrowfully. “…There has been no sign of him but for the healing he has brought to the world. Venti sent word. The shades are gone, the land is filling with life once more, and the attack is over.”

Crumpling against Lord Rex’s side, Xiao accepts the careful brush of scales and warm huff of breath over his cheek. Surely… surely Aether would not have left Teyvat entirely; left Xiao entirely. But then— his sister. His endless longing for the stars that had been ripped from his grasp. The weariness that had shown in the final moments as he had returned Xiao’s Heart.

Perhaps this world and its great suffering had been too much to bear, even for such a being as Aether.

Xiao cannot blame him, and yet it still aches, burns to know that in the end, even he had been no match for the call of the stars. Something stings in his eyes, and his vision blurs.

“Rest, little one,” Lord Rex warbles. “I will not leave you. Let it be a contract set in stone.”

 

--

 

When Xiao opens his eyes again, sluggish enough to have slept a century, he feels… steadier. Less wretched and dazed. Lord Rex is still curled firmly around him, just as promised, but the sky is dim with late evening light, and Chongyun has disappeared from his side. The air is cool and dry— how much time had passed as he slept?

“Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling, little one?” Lord Rex rumbles in his ear.

“…Better, my Lord.” Xiao pushes himself up to sitting; stares out over the shadowed gardens and warm lights spilling from the palace windows in the distance.

“I am glad to hear it.” A pulse of adeptal energy signals Lord Rex’s transformation from dragon to human, and Xiao inevitably tips backward at the disappearance of the wall of scales that had been holding him up. He is not allowed to fall for long, however. Strong hands catch his shoulders, and Lord Rex gently props him back up again.

“I must soon return to Venti and fetch back Xingqiu and Shenhe as promised,” Lord Rex says. “It’s been too long already. But you still seem somewhat… lost. For my own peace of mind, I would ask that you come with me.”

“Go— with you, my Lord?” Xiao blinks. “Would Chongyun not be the better choice?”

“…I admit I had hoped to spare him the first sight of Xingqiu, if it is at all possible to soften the blow. Venti said nothing of Xingqiu’s condition, other than to warn me that Aether’s healing had not reached beyond the slopes of Cuijue.”

So, Xingqiu’s fragile, mortal body is still broken. And if Barbatos had been unable to spare the energy to heal him… surely it will not be easy for Chongyun to reconcile the worthiness of his lover’s great deed with the cruel price that was demanded for it.

“I understand,” Xiao says quietly. “But— what of your own bondmate?”

“Childe? He is currently sleeping, but even if he were not… perhaps now is not the best time to take him beyond the walls of the palace. He has yet to master the gnosis, and human form still eludes him.”

Xiao startles, and— yes, there it is. The inexorable pulse of divinity rests not in Lord Rex’s body, but within a slumbering aura in the palace. “My Lord…”

For a moment, Lord Rex is silent. “…My claim upon him was strong, and the power that claim gave him was perhaps the only reason he could survive. But in the end, Childe was still mortal. In order to contain the gnosis, Childe made a sacrifice that turned him into something other. Something that can no longer survive without it.”

A sigh. “For now, it is of little consequence. I still have my own powers even without the status of Archon, and there are no longer any great threats against us.”

It unsettles Xiao, to know that Childe of all creatures has effectively become the newest Archon. Yet neither is it all that surprising, in the end. What Childe had done on the battlefield truly should have been impossible. It would be foolish to expect him to have come out unscathed.

“…I defer to your judgement, my Lord.”

Lord Rex seems to soften, somehow. “You know there is no need for that title, Xiao… unless, of course, it is less burdensome for you. I would not deprive you of any comfort during this time.”

Opening his mouth, Xiao tries to shape Lord Rex’s name as he should, as he knows he can— but nothing comes out. Why? Even he does not know. “…Forgive me.”

Lord Rex waves the plea aside with one hand. “No matter. You should do as you wish, Xiao. It would be best, however, if we were to depart soon. Are you ready?”

Right. Lord Rex’s order. Xiao has duties, however unfit for them he may be. He is needed.

Something small but steady crystallizes, and Xiao looks down at himself. His clothes had been changed somewhere between passing the palace gates and waking up in Lord Rex’s garden, and like Chongyun, he is clean. Had he bathed himself in a daze, or had someone else taken on the burden? Does it matter at all?

The comforting hum of his spear makes itself known in the back of his mind, and a perpetual, fathomless ache weighs down his Heart. There is nothing else for him to prepare.

The winds rise easily at his call, and he soars into the dusk at Lord Rex’s side.

 

--

 

It is… difficult, to gaze directly into Xingqiu’s face. Xiao has seen worse, of course, far worse over his many centuries of suffering and slaughter, and yet…

Xingqiu smiles up at him, at least as much as his swollen, bandaged face will allow. “Vigilant… Yaksha. You came.”

“Do not strain yourself,” Xiao says. Still, when Xingqiu’s intact hand reaches for his, he holds it and sends a stream of healing through that small body. Xingqiu’s eyes slip shut in clear relief, and Xiao turns his attention to the far corner of the room where Barbatos and Lord Rex are speaking.

“I did all I could,” Barbatos says, whisper quiet. “But healing is not my forte. I would say you’d do better to treat him yourself, but your gnosis…”

“It is… not ideal,” Lord Rex admits. “Yet neither can I take the gnosis from Childe without killing him.”

“What about your little yaksha? I can see he’s already trying.”

“Xiao is indeed very skilled,” Lord Rex says without hesitation. “But he lacks practice with the delicate healing Xingqiu requires, and I do not wish to place upon him the burden of responsibility should he be unable to improve the boy’s condition.”

“Hmm…” Barbatos taps his nails against the tabletop beside him. “And Aether…?”

“Nothing,” Lord Rex says, slowly shaking his head. “Neither word nor sign.” He pauses. “Xiao has composed himself remarkably well, all things considered, but… is it perhaps ungrateful of me to resent him for leaving, after all he did to save us?”

Xiao’s next breath stutters in his chest. Lord Rex is… angry?

“Well… perhaps,” Barbatos says softly. “But neither do I begrudge you your fury. And to be honest, from the little I have come to know of Aether, I don’t think he would either. He must have had something very important to do; something worth invoking even his beloved’s hurt and your rage.”

Lord Rex sighs. “It is best I do not think too much upon it now. What of your people, Venti? Have they recovered from their losses?”

“As much as any army could after a war. Whatever Aether did to cleanse the corruption also extended to our bodies, so while no one was healed, exactly, they are in the best possible position for recovery. Except for…” Barbatos frowns. “Well, those who could move or be moved are already on their way back to Mondstadt. But the severely injured and one of my Knight captains are still in Wangshu Inn.”

A captain…. That man Xiao and Aether had approached on the first night of battle, the one who had corruption woven into his bones. Perhaps he had been struck down by Aether’s cleansing power?

“…My gratitude for you and your people is more than I could ever hope to express. Is there anything more I can do to assist you at this time?”

Barbatos’s braids toss as he shakes his head. “No, the most we can ask for now is to go home and rest. Although… Dvalin did ask after you before the battle started. Perhaps you could pay him a visit?”

“Ah, Dvalin…. Indeed, it has been some time. It would be my pleasure.”

Barbatos smiles; lays a gentle hand on Lord Rex’s forearm. “Take some time for yourself, old friend. You’ve been through a lot too.”

Lord Rex says nothing, but bends his head perhaps deeper than is proper for an Archon and does not shake off Barbatos’s touch.

Xiao startles a little when Barbatos’s attention then turns to him for a moment, and is too slow to respond to the smile and nod sent his way. Before he can attempt to rectify this, Barbatos is flitting silently from the room, leaving behind nothing more than the echoing click of the door and the rasp of Xingqiu’s labored breaths.

“…Apologies, Xiao. If I were to leave you alone with Xingqiu for a short while…” Lord Rex begins, his words slow and weary.

In this, at least, Xiao can respond easily. “Whatever you prefer, my Lord. I will wait here for your return.”

“…I will only take a few moments for myself. Do not hesitate to call for me if anything happens. Anything at all.”

Xiao bends his head. “Understood.”

Lord Rex, too, paces from the room, and once his aura fades somewhat with distance, Xiao turns back to Xingqiu.

“Did they… talk about me?” Xingqiu scrapes out, and ah— of course his weak human ears would not have been able to hear the Archons’ murmurings. Xiao considers the wisdom of answering, and answering truthfully.

“…For a short while.”

“Lord Barbatos didn’t tell me much… it is his right, of course,” Xingqiu wheezes hastily. “But…”

Xiao is careful to keep the stream of healing energy in the boy’s body thin and perfectly even. “Your recovery will be… difficult,” he decides on in the end. “Stop speaking. Save your strength.”

“Ah… at least it’s a rather chivalrous end, isn’t it?”

“This is no ‘end,’” Xiao says, harsher than he had intended. “Not for you. Now rest.”

At last, Xingqiu heeds Xiao’s command, but his face is pale and his limbs are trembling minutely as he sinks back against the pillows of the bed.

 

Slowly, Xiao lifts his unoccupied hand to Xingqiu’s hairline and begins carefully sweeping limp strands out from under the bandages and away from his forehead. The left side of his head is shaved— wounds sutured. Then bandages— they had been unable to recover his eye, nor save once smooth, unmarked skin. Heavy wooden braces, painted with anemo sigils— shattered bones forced back together, legs and arm.

Though the corruption that had kept the wounds festering has since been wiped away by Aether’s gift, the damage is done. Some things, even Archons cannot heal, especially not after Xingqiu’s body has already settled into the ruin of itself.

How strong the human is, to have clung to such hopeless life. How fragile he will be, perhaps forever.

Lord Rex was right to keep Chongyun away from this scene.

 

--

 

A few minutes more pass in aching silence before Lord Rex slips back inside, and Xiao is relieved to see his face is no longer quite so pinched and rainstorm-dark. He nods to Xiao, then takes Xiao’s place at the bedside to scoop Xingqiu up onto the slab of amber that appears beneath his fingertips. Xingqiu stirs with a soft sound of pain, but Lord Rex moves with utmost caution, arranging the boy’s limbs into a comfortable position before covering the whole slab with a warmly resonating jade shield.

Xingqiu is soothed, but Lord Rex spends one last moment simply staring down at him, one hand on the edge of the amber bed, before he sighs and floats it into the air.

“Let us go.”

A thin, icy thread of power alerts Xiao to the occupant of the hall beyond before Lord Rex opens the door, and Xiao returns Shenhe’s shallow bow with a nod of his own. She looks well, though given the relatively sparse injuries she’d sustained on the battlefield, that is to be expected. Still, if there must be suffering beyond the bounds of wartime, Xiao would rather it endured by only one and not two.

Shenhe approaches Xingqiu’s makeshift bed, and though her face does not change, she still traces gentle fingers over the jade shield and takes up a protective position beside it, opposite from Xiao.

Passing the staircase, they step directly out onto the balcony of Wangshu Inn. Here, the breeze is cool, and Xiao gratefully allows it to wash away the sharp smell of herbs and drying blood that had stained his nose inside Xingqiu’s room.

“Dvalin?” Lord Rex says suddenly, and Xiao opens eyes he had not consciously closed just in time to see a great dragon’s head appear from above the broad roof of the inn. The breeze around them hastens its journey into the sky, and Xiao’s skin tingles with the purity of the anemo power that brushes over it.

“Apologies,” the Dragon of the East rumbles. “You spoke of them, but I wished to meet for myself the little ones who fought so boldly under your command.”

“Ah. Yes.” Lord Rex turns with a gesturing hand. “Here is Xiao, the final Yaksha. Then Shenhe, the mortal student of one of my Adepti. And of course, this one is Xingqiu.” That dark shadow returns to Lord Rex’s face. “I fear I erred greatly in allowing him onto the battlefield, no matter his part in our victory.”

Dvalin sighs in a hot rush of air, and as though it were a sign, Lord Rex slips out of his mortal form to suddenly occupy the entire balcony. Xiao and Shenhe are forced back to perch upon the railing, Xingqiu’s bed floating safely out of the way with them.

“It is done, and your people live on,” Dvalin says in the tone of one who has repeated themselves many times, no matter how patiently. His nose dips down to bump firmly against Lord Rex’s scaled brow. “Do you think any of us came to fight without knowing the cost? If this human is so precious to you, do not insult his choice by looking upon him with nothing but regret for the rest of his life. You know this full well.”

“…Indeed,” Lord Rex sighs after a long while. “Thank you for the reminder.”

“As one of the last true dragons, it would be remiss of me to let another of our kind fall.”

Lord Rex bows deeply as Dvalin shifts away, and Xiao startles when a sky-bright eye comes to fix on him instead.

“A child of the skies… tell me, why do the winds mourn for you with such anguish?”

Something in Xiao’s chest twists, sharp for a moment, before fading to numbness. “…I was unaware they were doing such a thing. I apologize for disturbing you.”

Dvalin makes a sound half chuff and half purr. It does not suit the size of him, but then, neither do Lord Rex’s comforting noises. “A broken heart. Yes, I see. Do not give up, little one. He may be missing now, but I firmly believe that none who would have woven with you a bond as strong as the winds speak of now would abandon you so meaninglessly.”

Of that, Xiao is not sure at all, but one of the great elemental dragons has spoken. Xiao will hardly reject the words.

Even so, a bending of his head is all he can manage in agreement.

 

--

 

It is the darkest hour of night when they return to the palace, drifting silently into the courtyard with the glow of Xingqiu’s bed between them, and yet the moment they land, the front doors are thrown wide to reveal the pale, shaking figure of Chongyun within.

“Xingqiu,” he gasps. “Xingqiu, please, did you—”

Lord Rex paces forward solemnly, his talons clicking over the stones of the path. “Chongyun… I had hoped to see you resting. Your body is not yet fully healed.”

Chongyun flinches, but still drags himself forward. Then, abruptly, he falls to his knees in Lord Rex’s shadow, palms landing flat against the ground. “I’m sorry, Rex Lapis, but— please, please. I need to see him. Please let me see him. Even if—if—”

“No need for that, Chongyun,” Lord Rex says, a thread of alarm in his voice. He insistently nudges the boy back to his feet. “I did not mean to withhold him from you. Only… I am sure you need no warning, yet I will say it anyway: Xingqiu is alive, but the life he clings to is still fragile. Whatever you are feeling in this moment, you must be gentle.”

Chongyun nods frantically, and with that, Lord Rex lowers the amber bed to the ground.

In an instant, Chongyun scrambles forward, pressing both palms against the shield that covers Xingqiu and again dropping to his knees. A twitch of Lord Rex’s talon, and the shield slowly, perhaps cautiously, crumbles away.

Chongyun lurches in, and Xiao tenses, prepared to stop him should he attempt to snatch Xingqiu up— but Chongyun halts his own fall. He ends in a weary hunch over Xingqiu’s body as silent drops of water fall to speckle Xingqiu’s clothes. His fingertips, when they reach for Xingqiu’s unbandaged cheek, touch so lightly that Xiao is unsure they are doing anything more than disturbing the fine hairs of his skin.

“Xingqiu…” Chongyun’s voice breaks. “How could you— how dare you say that and just—!”

Xiao looks away. Suddenly, he, too, is exhausted beyond reason, his duty complete and no warm scent of sunlight and earth to buoy him through the flood of Chongyun’s pain.

Lord Rex is here, but his attention is for the two broken children under his protection. Shenhe is here, but although she is a comforting ally in battle, to each other, they are merely that: allies.

Xiao is alone.

Slowly, he draws back, allows the night to envelop him as the friend it has been since the moment of his birth. Grand as the halls of Lord Rex’s palace are, they will only be suffocating now, so Xiao flits to the rooftop and paces across the softly clinking tiles. His restless path takes him over the wing that contains his and Ae—his room, then to the lower expanse that overlooks the gardens.

He gazes out across the shadowed trees and glimmering streams, the tea pavilions that dot the mountainside, their red paint dimmed to black in the low light—

The sight of a writhing shape wrapped around the pillars of a particularly small pavilion freezes him mid-motion. Its unnaturally divine aura is unmistakable.

Xiao steps into the shadows and returns to the world at Childe’s side. “What are you doing.”

Childe’s frantic squirming stops, and his head winds around the side of the pavilion to look at Xiao, scales glinting dully with the movement. “Ahaha… fancy seeing you here. Are you feeling better? You didn’t look so good when you were with Zhongli earlier…”

Xiao blinks at the unexpected show of care— but that had not answered his question at all. “I am fine. But why are you not resting? Lord Rex is concerned for your condition.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m fine too. I guess he’s taking care of the kids now?” Childe relaxes a fraction, but makes no move to extract himself from the pavilion.

“Yes.”

“Right. Uh, thanks for checking on me, I guess, but you can go back to… whatever you were doing before this.”

Even Childe’s dubious company would be better than continuing to wander alone. Narrowing his eyes, Xiao takes a step closer, only to pause when Childe visibly flinches.

“What,” he asks again, slow and deliberate, “are you doing here.”

Childe vibrates in place for a moment. Then his whole body crumples. “Please,” he says, suddenly small and nothing at all like either a powerful dragon or an arrogant human. “Please don’t leave, Xiao.”

Xiao breathes out. Padding forward, he folds himself onto his knees before Childe’s enormous eyes and meets the human-turned-Archon’s gaze straight on. “What happened?”

“…I woke up and Zhongli was out, so I decided I might as well take a look around— and figure out how to walk again,” Childe adds, a little bitterly. “It was fine at first. I managed to get outside; rolled around in one of the ponds to clean up— I’ll have to apologize to Zhongli later, I think I crushed some of the lotuses. But then I came here and— I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I thought I could jump through the gaps in the pavilion. But…”

Xiao follows with his eyes the tangle of Childe’s body around the supports of the pavilion. “Now you are stuck.”

“Now I’m stuck,” Childe agrees miserably. “I can’t make my legs work right, or I don’t understand how to unwind myself, or— I don’t know. Everything I tried just made it worse. Please don’t laugh.”

Xiao frowns. “Why would I laugh?”

Childe just shakes his head. “How am I supposed to face Zhongli like this? And after he was just praising me for how well I was handling the— the gnosis.”

“Lord Rex will not care. He already knows you have not fully adapted.”

“Still…” Childe drops his chin into the grass beside the pavilion. Whatever his origins, he is a god now, and as a servant, Xiao cannot stand to see him bent so pitifully.

“…I can try to help you.”

Childe jolts up, light returning to his eyes “…Really?”

“Yes.” Xiao rises to his feet again and slowly circles the pavilion. “Move your back left claw. Now shift your tail.”

After a brief struggle, Childe figures out how to do both.

“You need to uncoil your tail from around this pillar. I’m going to touch you.”

“Yeah, sure. Alright,” Childe mutters, and he holds very still as Xiao takes hold of the tufted end of his tail and begins dragging it in the correct direction. Barely leashed power, like waves crashing against indomitable cliffs, stings over his bare hands, but it is easy enough to endure.

Tail in place, Xiao releases his grip and begins walking over to Childe’s back right leg, where it’s trapped in the pavilion railing. “Swing your tail left, that will unloop it. Then we can free your—”

He doesn’t get to finish his instruction before a massive weight crashes into the back of his head and sends him tumbling through the grass.

Ears ringing, utterly stunned, Xiao rolls over as quickly as he can, rising to his knees to prepare for another attack— only to see a limp tail on the ground where Xiao had been standing as Childe’s frantic voice fills the air.

“Xiao? Xiao, I’m sorry, please be alright, I can’t see you, but I know I— Did I hit you? I fucked up the movement, I didn’t mean to— Oh Archons, please—”

“Childe,” Xiao cuts him off. “I am fine.” He is careful to enunciate, to avoid giving away the dizziness that still blurs his vision.

“I’m so sorry, Xiao,” Childe all but wails. It is unsettling to hear. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Xiao stares at him fuzzily. Would Childe have said such things before the battle? Before he took on the gnosis that is Lord Rex’s Heart in all but name? He does not know. Perhaps divinity has changed him.

“…Yes. Stop worrying. Move your tail and we can continue.”

Childe falls silent for a moment. “…I don’t want to.”

“What?”

“I don’t—I don’t have enough control right now.” It sounds like the words are painful to say. “I’ll just hurt you again.”

“You will not. I am prepared for the possibility now.”

But Childe mulishly curls up into himself— as much as he can around the pavilion— and says nothing more.

“Stubborn,” Xiao hisses, and in the next moment, Lord Rex comes soaring over the roof of the palace to plunge down beside them.

“Childe?!” He rumbles urgently, and ah— Childe must have called for his master. His bonded.

“Uh. Hi, Zhongli,” Childe says, shame a visible weight in every coil of his body. “I’m alright. Sorry to bother you.”

“It is no bother.” Lord Rex pads forward, nudging his snout against Childe’s. “What happened here?”

“I’m… trapped,” Childe explains rather succinctly. “Xiao tried to help me get out, but I— I messed up. Hit him with my tail. I don’t want to hurt him again.” Then, softer. “…He shouldn’t be hurt again.”

Again, that unbearable edge of pity. “I am not injured,” Xiao says, suddenly irritable. “There is no need to treat me like porcelain. I promised to help you, so I should fulfill that duty.”

“Xiao…” Lord Rex trails off.

“Zhongli, you can get me out, right?” Childe asks, blatantly refusing to acknowledge Xiao.

“I… perhaps. While we were away from the palace, I recalled a trick, of sorts, that may allow me to feed you divine energy while taking the gnosis out of your body. Bound pairs used a similar technique in the past, though for different purposes. It would only be temporary, but…”

“That’s all I need,” Childe finishes. “What is it?”

Wordlessly, Lord Rex collapses into his mortal form, then places a stone palm against Childe’s chest. “I will serve as your Heart,” he says quietly. “Do you trust me?”

Childe bends close, and whatever his reply, it is too quiet for even Xiao to hear—but in the next instant, Lord Rex’s hand sinks deep into Childe’s body, a glow of power suffusing the place where they are joined. When Lord Rex slowly draws back, the gnosis glints between his fingers.

Childe collapses with a cry, his body warping and twisting back to human form in Lord Rex’s arms. His aura, his life force fluctuates wildly, unable to sustain itself without divine power, wrecked as it had been during his transformation.

Lord Rex, of course, wastes no time in clamping his free hand around the back of Childe’s neck, right over the brand, and with a hitch of breath, Childe’s cry turns to a groan. Power flows freely between them— between Childe and the gnosis— and Lord Rex scoops Childe’s bare body into his arms, carrying them away from the pavilion, away from any prying eyes.

Then all Xiao can see is the way scarred arms throw themselves around Lord Rex’s neck right then and there, the way Lord Rex gently bends his head, the way two faces meet, pale skin against pale skin—

 

Both Lord Rex and Childe’s next breaths stutter, and Xiao— Xiao is aching.

He flees the garden with reckless haste, warping into the palace, hoping to find a corner of shadow in which to hide himself. Foolish. He should have checked his path of flight first, for he finds himself in the kitchen, before the table where Ganyu and Shenhe are sitting side-by-side with an enormous plate of sugared qingxin between them.

Their soft murmuring cuts off at Xiao’s appearance, and Ganyu half-rises from her seat, a petal still hanging out of the corner of her mouth. “Xiao?” she starts, worry etching itself between her brows, but Xiao is already gone.

Just to dig the blade in a little deeper, he swirls into existence again in Chongyun’s room, where the two humans on the bed are cast in soft lamplight. Chongyun is curled up small against Xingqiu’s side, purifying energy feeding into the body of his beloved, perhaps unconsciously. Both their breaths are quiet with true sleep, and Xingqiu looks as comfortable as he could possibly be with his body still splinted and bandaged and scarred.

They are safe, and Xiao is glad, and Xiao cannot remain here for even a moment longer.

 

--

 

The valley of Nantianmen is dark and quiet, save for the haunting sounds of birds, and although fresh plants are growing in the wake of the battle with Azhdaha, the earth is still overturned and the cliffs are carved into new shapes. It is no longer the same place in which he had met Aether. The place where he had first been gifted life instead of death.

The stone structure where Aether had lived is gone, turned to rubble somewhere in the chaos, but the great stone beside it remains, and Xiao settles himself in the spot Aether had always sat to weave nets or prepare food or carve his newest offering for Xiao. It is cold and smells of nothing but dust and lichen. Still, he stays. Lord Rex will no doubt begin to worry after his disappearance soon, in that gentle way of his that Xiao has not only come to trust, but to expect. But until then, where else does he have to go?

He reaches for his chest, draws out the fathomless crystal of his Heart. His own hand is cold and lonely around it.

“Do you trust me?” Lord Rex had asked Childe, and how Xiao longs to hear it in different voice; to feel a different touch wrap around his Heart.

He curls up into a ball. Closes his eyes for a moment against the distant, mocking stars.

 

“Xiao, love,” says the softest, most beautiful voice Xiao has ever heard. “That’s a terrible place for a nap, you know.”

Xiao leaps upright at once, straining forward, searching wildly, and—

Warm hands close over his icy fingers and numb Heart. A tangle of gold silk whisps through the air, pulled by the breeze to curl around his arms and shoulders, and starlight eyes draw closer and closer, pulling him into their depths.

“Aether,” Xiao says, only his voice comes out wrong— wet and cracking and ruined. “You left.”

“I left,” Aether says, his voice a well of misery. “I left, and I will spend the rest of time atoning for it— longer, if you wish it. Lumine was dying, and I was desperate… what would have been better, to have returned your Heart and kept you safe at home, or to have enveloped you in Our being and carried you with Us to the stars?”

“I would have gone with you,” Xiao says instantly. “Always. No matter what.”

“You trust me so easily, Xiao,” Aether sighs, but his fingers close a little tighter around Xiao’s Heart, one nail just barely scratching against the crystal. Xiao shivers.

“Then, should there be a next time… I suppose I know what to do.” Aether’s smile is small and aching, but Xiao can only be glad to see it if it means his world, his everything, has returned to him at last.

They shuffle apart from each other just a step, just enough for Xiao to take in the simple white robe that drapes over Aether’s body, the healthy, unmarred glow of his skin, and the flash of bare feet skimming just a breath above the grass.

“Your sister…?” Xiao whispers into the stillness, because it seems like the right thing to ask.

Aether softens even further, if such a thing is possible, and trails his fingertips in shivery lines from Xiao’s wrists up to his elbows. Xiao can feel the searing cord of the bond in his chest reweaving itself strand by strand as Aether goes.

“She is well. Healing.” Something other pulses in Aether’s aura, an impossible strength just a few shades too dark to be Aether’s own, and Xiao recognizes it as the power of the being who burst from Saizhen’s grave to put an end to the war. A tendril of it curls like smoke over his senses, curious, and perhaps even playful.

Aether laughs, a flutter of a sound. “Despite all the stories I have shared with her, she is eager to meet you for herself.”

“Mm.”

More stillness; breathless and waiting, but not uncomfortable.

“I—forgive you,” Xiao says, the words faltering, for even if he knows that Aether is not truly his master, not in the way Saizhen once was, who is he to presume to grant forgiveness?

But Aether— Aether sags into Xiao’s arms, a watery glint beginning to trail down his cheeks in the low light.

“You— you were hurt too. And your sister— you were searching for so long.”

Aether shakes his head softly. “That is no excuse for leaving you without a word.”

“But you didn’t.” Xiao lifts the Heart enfolded between them. “You fixed something that had been broken from the moment I was born. You made it— better.” You promised to take care of my Heart, and you did, he should say. You did it so well, everything I know about being whole is because of you. You gave up your whole self to heal mine, even after the worst betrayal I could have inflicted; even after a thousand years. You returned me to myself so that I could not be ruled, even by you.

But Xiao can say none of it, not when his throat is closed up and his face is being pressed against the warm curve of Aether’s neck, when his Heart is being eased back into his chest by steady hands, when he is full, full, full.

“Thank you, Xiao,” Aether says in a shaking breath. “Anything you want, it is yours. I am yours.”

“There is no need to bribe me.”

Aether’s fingers curl beneath Xiao’s jaw and tip his face up until they are eye to eye, breathless. “I’m not bribing you. I’m spoiling you. The way I should have been able to from the start, as one of the children of Fate. Let me, Xiao.”

And in the face of the universe turned small for him, what else can Xiao do but agree?

Notes:

I'm so hnghsgsljfkdshlkdhf-

Just one chapter to go, although it's set to be a pretty long one! I'm sorry it's taking forever to wrap this up, but study abroad life comes first for now. To keep an eye on potential news or updates, you can follow my Tumblr here!

Chapter 58: Restoration

Notes:

Hi
I have nothing to say for myself

 

Lol, but to be serious, my year of study abroad in Japan is officially over! I survived! And although progress was slow, this fic is just about done too. You may have noticed the chapter count is up (again) to absolutely no one's surprise, but this is it for real. Expect one chapter a week until the end!

CW: Some D/S elements

Aether breathes in through lungs that are far too small, listens to Xiao’s soft, barely hitching gasps with ears that are far too weak, gazes upon his beloved’s jade-pale beauty with eyes that are far too clouded.

He’d forgotten, apparently, just how crushingly small these mortal worlds felt to his eternal senses. How suffocating it could be to fold himself down and in until he fit within the confines of flesh and bone. It had been of little consequence when he first arrived in this world, with his stripped powers effortlessly making themselves small, but now…

The few senses Aether has allowed himself are utterly overwhelmed, as the paths of Ley Lines flash and dance in his vision, the ground screams with the echoing curses left by battle upon battle in this place, and the weight of air alone drags over his skin and down his throat.

Fortunately, he has his solace— his Xiao, to whom his entire being is so deeply attuned that even his return to the stars could not erase the shape Xiao has carved out in his soul. He reaches for that solace again, and Xiao responds so sweetly, burying his face carefully against the side of Aether’s throat. He is the silken brush of dry skin and old scars, the warm scent of iron and reeds and summer nights, the sound of pulsing life and howling wind.

Aether holds him closer, because to do anything else would be a crime even the stars would not forgive, but at the same time, he reminds himself— alongside the reproving nudge of shadows deep within— that he needs to be careful.

He and Xiao are not the same as they once were. Now, although Xiao again holds full command over his own Heart and power of the winds, Aether, too, has been returned to full strength. And the control he could inflict on Xiao far exceeds anything Xiao could do to him, even if Aether never holds his Heart again.

There will be no more asking for Xiao’s trust and submission— at least, not until Aether can figure out some way of giving Xiao power great enough to equal or nullify Aether’s own. Luckily for him, his thousands of years stuck on this world have been nothing if not educational.

Once, Xiao had entrusted his Heart, power over all that he did and was, to Aether’s hands. It’s only right that Aether returns the favor.

“Aether,” Xiao calls softly, and Aether looks down to see those night-piercing eyes blinking up at him. “Your feet…”

Oh. Right.

With not-insignificant effort, Aether feels for the weight of the earth and air, letting the forces of this world press down upon him until his feet sink all the way down into tender shoots of grass and soft soil.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, but of course Xiao only shakes his head a little.

“It must be— difficult,” his beloved says haltingly. “To return from afar.”

…And here Aether had thought he’d try to hide his otherworldliness, if only to avoid forcing upon Xiao the discomfort of realizing exactly who and what he’d chosen as his bond. How absurd. As if Xiao has ever faced him with anything other than shyly open arms and a boundless sea of trust.

“Well… maybe a little,” Aether allows, closing his eyes against the swirling, flashing lights. It comes with the downside of not being able to see Xiao’s lovely face anymore, of course, but Aether will be of no use later if he’s drowning in a supernatural headache of his own making now.

A rough fingertip comes to trace down the side of his face, temple to eye to cheek.

“Should we return?” Xiao asks in that soft, scratchy way of his, and Aether love, love, loves him.

“Just a moment longer. Please.” Aether sags, trying to focus on the smell and feel and sound of Xiao above everything else. He needs to get this under control first, or facing everyone else back at the palace and in Liyue Harbor will only be that much harder. Lumine twists worriedly around their inner core, incorporeal shadow that she currently is, but she doesn’t yet have the power to reach as far as the physical world and suppress Aether’s senses.

“Would you… perhaps like me to— help?” Xiao says suddenly, and Aether yanks his eyelids open again.

Xiao is gazing at him with hesitance and quiet worry, but also with a certain stone-deep steadiness that Aether has come to associate with… with…

Right. Aether may not be allowed to assert his will over Xiao’s, but surely there’s no reason they can’t do it the other way around.

“Yes,” Aether breathes gratefully, and Xiao nods.

“Then…”

Xiao steps back a little, but only so he can place cautious hands on Aether’s shoulders and press down, just so— Aether drops as fast as his knees will allow. Fingers catch beneath his chin, and as he looks up into Xiao’s eyes once more, the world falls away.

“Good,” Xiao says, short as ever, but it’s all Aether needs to hear. He lays his head against Xiao’s thigh, listening to the rumble of ichor through veins, odd as it is. A moment later, sharp nails dip through Aether’s hair to meet his scalp, not combing, just resting, deathly sharp and so very present.

Then, for a while, that’s all Aether is. Luminescent eyes, a muffled pulse, and fragile skin, all held together at Xiao’s whim. He only distantly notices when Xiao shifts, his back meets something warm, and something begins to tug at his hair.

 

When he comes to again, the valley is… still.

Aether can still see the Ley Lines if he focuses, but they easily fade out of view when he seeks Xiao’s presence. Similarly, the earth has quieted as Aether’s senses realign with mortal sounds, and the weight of Xiao’s touches have settled his skin far more than the air ever could have.

Aether blinks. Looks down at his own shoulder, and the simple braid that has been slung over it. Xiao had done his hair.

“I love you,” Aether says aloud, and is immediately rewarded by a sharp twitch at his back and a rush of warmth along their freshly rewoven bond.

Xiao says nothing in reply, but the cool skin of his cheek soon comes to nuzzle against Aether’s nape, as if he is hiding his face, and Aether leans back into the touch with a quiet laugh. “I’m so glad I came back. And I’m sorry I ever made you doubt.”

Xiao’s hair tickles over Aether’s skin as he shakes his head minutely. “That… there was no other way.” He pauses. “But if you would allow it… I wish to hear where you went. What were you so desperate to reach?”

Aether lets out a shaky breath and tips his face up towards the sky, which is rapidly lightening with the coming dawn. “The cradle of the stars. The origin of the universe. The place where Lumine and I were born.” And how long it had been since he’d last visited. “I don’t think you would be able to imagine it… I have never found its match on any of the worlds I have visited. But if you picture the luminescence of the waves of Liyue Harbor in the evening, or the way stone cracks through with gold under Zhongli’s touch, perhaps you could come close enough.

“I wish I could show it to you… and at the same time, I hope I never have a reason to take you there.”

“I would go wherever you asked,” Xiao murmurs against Aether’s skin, and Aether sighs again, turning in place.

“…I know. But the place that was Lumine’s only chance of healing is assured destruction for any creature from the mortal realms. You would have to become a part of me, a mere echo of what once was. And I don’t want that. Not if I can help it.”

Xiao is silent for a while, eyes hooded. Then— “…Do you miss it? Your home?”

The stars? They are beautiful and warm and familiar, the only things he and Lumine had known for eons and eons. But as easy as it was to return to them, there is no longer anything precious waiting for him there.

“It was good to return, but I would never have stayed. You are my home now, Xiao,” Aether says, turning to close his palms over Xiao’s cheeks and rub a thumb under one melancholy eye. “You and Lumine, Zhongli and his court, the warmth of Liyue Harbor, even mortals like Chongyun and Xingqiu, fleeting as they may be in the end.”

“…If you were to grow tired of us… or this ephemeral—”

“No,” Aether says, firmly cutting off Xiao’s whisper. “No. I will not grow tired of you. I will not abandon you. My promise— my love— for you and this world isn’t just a feeling, it’s my choice. And my patience as a creature beyond time is all but infinite. What is it that Zhongli likes to say? Let it be a contract set in stone.”

Xiao makes a soft, almost wounded sound and presses into Aether’s hands, eyes closing. And Aether holds him, absently stroking over the soft spot behind Xiao’s ear, drowning in the peace of it.

 

--

 

It’s not that Aether hadn’t expected the rage of a god-king whose beloved child had been wounded by Aether’s hand. It’s just that it’s one thing to know, and another thing entirely to stare down rows of teeth as long as his forearms and feel scorching breath blast over his face. After all, though Aether may stand among the most powerful creatures in the universe, his awe of dragons has never once diminished.

“So, you return,” Zhongli snarls, drawing himself up to his greatest size—one which completely obscures the peaked roofs of the palace behind him.

Aether can feel his entire body trembling without his permission, Lumine oscillating between deep amusement and genuine concern in the hollows of his chest. How exciting. He promptly gets down on the ground to press his forehead against the stones of the courtyard. “It is as you see it,” he agrees. “And I beg your forgiveness.”

“How bold of you, to come to the heart of my territory and beg without offering.”

“I have nothing to offer, Lord of Geo,” Aether says meekly— who knows if calling Zhongli by name still counts among his privileges. “Nothing except my own repentance. Bit if there is anything I can do to earn your forgiveness…”

“Lord—Lord Rex,” Xiao says then, and Zhongli makes a pleased sound. “Is there any need for such a test? He has returned safely, as soon as it was within his power… and so have I.”

“He hurt you, Xiao. And offered neither warning nor explanation,” Zhongli growls, the burning weight of his gaze never once lifting from the top of Aether’s head.

“But I, too, have hurt him in much the same way before,” Xiao says, a little sharper now. “And if the alternative was for Aether to lose the sister for whom he has been searching for thousands of years…”

“There is no room for exchanges of hurt in bonds of true affection,” Zhongli counters. “However… I do acknowledge the exceptional circumstances.”

Aether keeps his head down and his mouth shut, waiting for Xiao’s next words.

“Did you not once say it was the wounded, and no other, who decides what the wounder deserves?” Xiao says, soft and faintly tremulous, but no less determined. “I have forgiven him. So… so…”

After a searing moment, Zhongli sighs. “So I did. Very well.” His presence shrinks, and although Aether doesn’t look up, he can guess that Zhongli has returned to mortal form. “You have grown much, Xiao.”

“That’s…”

“And truth be told,” Zhongli continues without waiting for Xiao’s inevitable denial. “I am more than overjoyed to see him as well.”

In the next moment, before Aether’s breath can even catch in his throat, great arms wrap around his shoulders, lifting him up to crush him close against Zhongli’s chest. Limp with shock, all Aether can do is stare blankly over the top of Zhongli’s shoulder for a second— then Zhongli’s face falls against Aether’s collarbone, his hold tightening just a little further, and all the powers of the universe could not have stopped Aether from crumpling too.

Securing his own arms around Zhongli, Aether allows himself to be small and held, unconditionally safe in a dragon’s embrace. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I never wanted to leave, I promise—”

Zhongli only shushes him. “I never doubted that. And no anger of mine could ever be greater than my relief at having you here with us once more, alive and well.”

Aether only cries harder when Xiao tucks himself into the embrace right alongside and threads his fingers with Aether’s. When Lumine quietly curls up against his heart. Close and warm and all together.

 

-*-

 

By the time Aether’s tears dry and Lord Rex is willing to loosen his hold, all the others who yet remain in the palace have been made aware of Aether’s arrival and are gathered just behind the great entrance doors. Xiao can feel the cluster of anxious lights waiting there.

Lord Rex and Aether can surely sense them as well, for they all approach the palace cautiously— and wisely so, for the moment Lord Rex lays his hand upon the latch, the restraint of those within runs out, and they all come pouring out with a great cry of “Aether!”

Chongyun, Ganyu, and Shenhe are not unexpected, but even Childe and Xingqiu are there, the former still draconic, but of a smaller size, and the latter resting in a cleverly tied sling attached to Childe’s back. Xiao has no time to wonder at it, however— not when his husband is currently being knocked to the ground, buried beneath a tide of those who had worried for him most.

“How dare you leave!” Chongyun wails, fists pounding weakly against Aether’s chest as Aether pulls him close. “Do you know how worried we were?”

“After you disappeared on the battlefield, we thought… and Xiao’s Heart…” Ganyu says, soft and choked, grasping one of Aether’s hands in both of her own.

Above Aether’s head, Shenhe looms. “I see you’re still alive.”

“Yes,” Aether says simply, then accepts a pat on the head forceful enough to ruffle his bangs into his eyes.

Childe swoops in the moment Shenhe retreats, and Aether blinks up at him through his hair. “…Childe?”

“And here I thought no one could possibly pull something crazier than I did during that battle,” Childe rumbles, staring Aether down. “Was I right about the kind of crazy it takes to live in this place, or was I right?”

“You were right,” Aether says with a soft laugh. “This is a new look for you, huh? I like what you’ve done with your hair.”

How utterly absurd, when Childe’s hair is the least of what has changed about him, but by his bark of amusement, the man in question seems to appreciate Aether’s words.

“I worked hard on it! And also on fitting though the palace doors to come see you, so you better appreciate it.”

“Of course I do.” Aether reaches up with his free hand to stroke Childe’s iridescent snout. “I feel…. How is it, being the new Archon?”

“Godsawful,” Childe says immediately. “Zhongli must’ve been out of his mind to voluntarily take this job.”

“…Would you like the gnosis out?” Aether asks, tilting his head a little. “I could help with that later if you’d like.”

“Oh. Huh.” Childe appears to consider it for a moment. “Well… maybe if things get really bad. But Zhongli’s already figured out a way to, uh, get me back to my regular body, at least for a little while, so… I think I’d like to try getting it under control on my own power, first.”

“Whatever you want,” Aether says easily. “I’ll be here anytime if you need me.”

“Oh yeah? That a promise, this time?”

“It’s a promise.” Aether’s fingers curl over Childe’s scales, faint power sparking between them. Xiao cannot parse its exact nature, but whatever Aether had done appears to appease Childe, because he nods— and turns to flank, bringing the final member of their group face-to-face with Aether.

“…Hello, Xingqiu,” Aether says, very, very softly.

“My liege,” Xingqiu says, rasping and ruined, struggling to lift his head. “Unfortunately, I have been somewhat… indisposed these past days, but Chongyun told me of what happened. I am relieved to see you back safely.”

“That should be my line,” Aether murmurs, dislodging Ganyu and Chongyun as he rises. “Did our Rex Lapis not heal you? Don’t tell me they simply left you in this state.”

“It seems my wounds were— were too severe,” Xingqiu replies, shrinking back a little as he does. “It’s alright, my liege. I am alive, and everyone here has taken very good care of me. It would be unbecoming of me to insist upon dissatisfaction.”

Aether only frowns at this and lays a gentle hand over Xingqiu’s forehead. Undefined power swirls again, and some of the shadowy pain lingering in the boy’s aura fades away.

“I see…” Aether says slowly, thumb stroking back Xingqiu’s hair. His gaze darts from Childe, to Zhongli, to the anemo-sealed splints on Xingqiu’s limbs. “Without the gnosis… and the nature of the wounds…”

Even Xiao holds his breath. If there is anything everyone in this palace still desperately wants, it is for Xingqiu to be healed— and if there is anyone left who can heal him, it is Aether.

“Let’s take this inside first,” Aether decides. “Then I can take a proper look.” And, as he flattens his palm against Xingqiu’s forehead, the two of them vanish in a flash of golden light, leaving the sling to flap emptily against Childe’s side.

Chongyun immediately panics, of course, but Xiao can sense both Aether and Xingqiu just a little ways into the palace, likely within Xingqiu’s rooms.

An explanation would be tiresome, so Xiao simply takes hold of Chongyun’s wrist and firmly pulls him forward through the doors. Lord Rex and the others follow close behind without prompting.

 

“…like to allow them inside?” is the first thing Xiao hears from behind Xingqiu’s closed doors— Aether’s voice, followed by Xingqiu’s whisper of, “Perhaps not everyone…”

So Xiao pauses at the threshold, waiting. Chongyun pulls against his hold, likely having been unable to hear anything from behind the heavy, geo-spelled doors, but Xiao’s duty now is to carry out the will of both his beloved and the wounded human under his care.

“I suppose it would be ill-advised to keep Lord Rex Lapis out… and the Vigilant Yaksha also assisted in my healing…”

“Not Chongyun?” Aether’s voice asks quietly.

A brief silence. “I want him, and yet… I hate to force him to look at me.”

Aether murmurs something even Xiao cannot hear, but he can sense the sorrow from across the bond all the same.

“I fully believed I would perish when I chose to step in front of him. I… told him of my feelings. But even if he were to reciprocate now, what do I have left? He no longer requires my family’s protection or wealth, and I can no longer accompany him on grand adventures or guard him from harm. Instead…”

There is a wet quality to Xingqiu’s voice now, and although Xiao cannot exactly close his ears, he can at least turn away from the door and focus on other things… such as the aching expressions that weigh on Ganyu and Lord Rex’s faces.

More silence. Then—

“I can help you with that, Xingqiu. Heal you. I… I won’t lie and say it will be easy— simply put, your injuries are woven among the broken threads of fate— but I think I can defy that fate. If you are willing to challenge it with me, that is.”

“Really?” Xingqiu says, broken and desperate and childlike as Xiao has ever heard him.

“Really.”

“Then— yes, yes. Can we start now? Are there preparations I should make on my part? Is—”

“Don’t strain yourself now,” Aether says quickly, accompanied by the sound of soft impact on blanket or mattress. “But yes, we can start today. So, Xiao and Zhongli…?”

“…And Chongyun,” Xingqiu says after a moment, and Xiao releases his grip on Chongyun’s arm.

Chongyun crashes through the doors and into the room without hesitation, flinging himself upon Xingqiu’s bedside. “Xingqiu! Are you alright? Was there something wrong? Xiao was keeping me outside, so I thought—”

Xiao follows the human in at a more measured pace, taking in the clean sheets pulled up to Xingqiu’s chest and Aether perched at the headboard, body suffused in an ethereal glow as he feeds energy into Xingqiu’s body. Lord Rex enters while Xiao is occupied with the sight, closing the doors behind himself.

“Thank you,” Aether says, gaze flicking up to Xiao and Lord Rex. “Shall we get started, then?”

“What do you have in mind?” Lord Rex says in answer.

Aether turns back to Xingqiu. “Essentially, there are two ways we could go about your healing. First, as a being outside the weave of Fate, I could fuse a part of my power with yours to effectively ignore the natural laws of this world and the remnants of corruption keeping your body in this state.”

He pauses. “The only problem is… doing that would change you, irrevocably. I can’t say how, exactly— maybe your appearance would be touched, or your lifespan, or your powers— but whatever the case, you would no longer be human. That’s guaranteed. So despite everything, I’m guessing you’ll prefer the second method, even if it’s more difficult.”

Xingqiu nods, face drained of even the little color the pallor of his injuries had allowed through.

“It wouldn’t be all too different from a normal, human recovery, honestly.” Aether’s tone is deceptively light and easy for the worry Xiao can feel across the bond. “I’ll be able to heal you in small amounts, using your own energy, and even regenerate the, ah, appendages that were stolen from you— though they might never be the same as they were before. You will need to practice from scratch how to live in your own body. There will be scars, and probably pain. But you will remain entirely yourself. And from what I know of you and your will to live, I have no doubt you’ll be able to walk, even run again.” Aether smiles at him, gentle. “What do you think?”

“I think… we should not delay even a moment longer, my liege,” Xingqiu says, shaking, but determined.

“Of course,” Aether replies, slipping from his place at the headboard to kneel beside Chongyun, taking Xingqiu’s single remaining hand in his. “Zhongli, would you like to watch? For future reference.”

“I would be remiss in turning down any lesson in healing,” Lord Rex says immediately, and Aether directs Lord Rex’s hand to rest on his shoulder.

Finally, Aether turns to Chongyun. “Will you be able to endure watching from here?” he asks softly. “No matter what happens, you cannot touch Xingqiu or interrupt the healing.”

“I’ll manage,” Chongyun says, the grim set of his mouth in sharp contrast with his usual brightness.

“Then…”

For all their preparation, there is very little to see from the outside. Xiao can feel Aether’s power swell enormously, and Xingqiu’s breath hitches a little, but there is no sudden glow or an instant closing of Xingqiu’s wounds. As the minutes pass, Aether’s brow creases a fraction— and Chongyun’s crumples dramatically when Xingqiu’s chest begins to heave and his body shudders— and then—

It’s over.

“Done,” Aether says, opening his eyes. “For now, I focused on healing the things causing you the most pain— fractures, torn joints, deep punctures, and so on. In a few days, we can try again. How do you feel?”

“…Much improved already,” Xingqiu says, a thread of what might perhaps be awe in his voice. “I— thank you, Aether.”

“I only wish I could do more,” Aether murmurs, a lightless smile on his face. “What use is it, walking beyond the laws of the universe, if… no. I’ve already learned that lesson, I suppose.”

But Xingqiu counters him fiercely. “I don’t care about that. You’re already a miracle to us, my liege. You always have been. I would never have had any hope of getting out of this bed again if it were not for you, so—”

“That’s right!” Chongyun joins in, voice rising where Xingqiu’s trails off. “You saved me too, you know.”

“…You mean that day with the shades? Really, all I did was assist Xiao and ask Zhongli for help,” Aether demurs, but Chongyun shakes his head.

“No, not that! I mean, that too, but… you’ve been protecting me from the very beginning. When you welcomed me and Xingqiu into your house, and always made sure we had food to eat, and helped me practice my exorcisms, and… and…” Chongyun sniffs loudly. “I… I don’t know. But sometimes I think I would have been thrown out by my family long before I actually was if you hadn’t always been there, helping me.”

“Chongyun…” Aether and Xingqiu say at the same time, and Lord Rex, having already backed towards the door, nods quietly to Xiao and lets himself out.

For his own part, although Xiao has no place beside Aether and the chicks he has folded beneath his wing— at least, not for now— it will always be his duty to watch over his beloved. So that is what he does, settling against the far wall and allowing his eyelids to fall heavy, the soft, broken words from the others rushing meaninglessly over his ears like distant waves.

It sounds like an entirely different kind of healing.

Notes:

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Chapter 59: For Him Do the Galaxy's Arms Outstretch

Notes:

Second to last chapter, and I was truly lost in the Xiaother sauce. I apologize to anyone who was expecting plot-- there is none to be seen here!

TW: Relatively mild but ongoing d/s interaction

“So, how fares Liyue after the battle?” Aether asks as he stretches out on sunlit grass beside a basket of dumplings. “What happened while I was gone?”

For the noon meal, Aether had requested to eat outside, and so Ganyu, Childe, Lord Rex, and Xiao had gone along with him to the palace gardens— Chongyun having chosen to remain with Xingqiu indoors. Now, Lord Rex spreads a mat out beneath the shade of a large gingko, and they all sit down to eat. Except Aether, who seems content to simply lie in the sun.

“The harbor’s recovery is proceeding smoothly, or so I am told,” Lord Rex replies. “I myself have been… rather occupied with other matters, as of late. But assuming all remains well here, I expect to personally visit and assist with the restoration efforts tomorrow.”

“It never ends, does it?” Aether says with a sage nod.

“I have been acting in Lord Rex’s stead, these past few days,” Ganyu explains. “And the Qixing and adepti who permanently reside in the harbor seem to have things well in hand. Oh, but Lady Ningguang has been asking after you… I wasn’t quite sure what to tell her.”

“Ah.” A wry smile twists Aether’s mouth. “I’ll pay her a visit first, I suppose. Then… what about Xingqiu’s family? Have they been informed of his condition? Is Childe’s family safe? I’d also like to check on a few others in the city, like Xiangling and little Qiqi…”

“You might as well be the eighth Qixing of Liyue, Aether,” Ganyu says, laughing a little. Then her smile fades. “We have, of course, sent word to Xingqiu’s family that he was wounded severely enough in battle to require the care of an Archon… his father has been particularly uncooperative, but that is only to be expected. As for Childe’s family, I have only investigated far enough to know that they were all still alive and accounted for in the harbor after the attack ended. I cannot say where they might be now.”

“I see. Thanks, Ganyu. I can’t imagine how much extra work this has been for you. I’ll help out from here.”

“…As much as I’d like to tell you to simply relax and allow me to handle things… there are many besides myself who will be grateful.”

“I must apologize to you, Ganyu, and thank you as well,” Lord Rex says then, bending his head to her. “I have been negligent, putting upon you the responsibility for far too many things for far too long. Fortunately, it seems the various matters diverting my attention have been resolved all at once, today. Please, take tomorrow to rest. I will take charge in the harbor.”

“Oh! No, Lord Rex, it’s completely fine, I can—”

“You fought just as hard as any of us in that war, and lost much. You deserve some peace,” Lord Rex interrupts.

“…Even if—”

“Yes. Rest, Ganyu.”

Ganyu concedes, as is right. “Then… as you wish, Lord Rex. Thank you.”

A peaceful silence follows as the hungry start in on their food. Lord Rex feeds Childe by hand, as a dragon’s mouth is ill-suited to maneuvering small amounts of food on small plates, and Xiao mimics him to feed Aether, who hasn’t reached for any of the platters. Unacceptable.

“Mmf,” Aether says, eyes fluttering open as Xiao presses a meat bun to his lips. “Xiao?”

“Eat.” Xiao offers the food again. Why isn’t Aether taking it?

“Oh… I don’t need it, you know. Really, this time,” Aether says softly, pushing himself upright and laying a hand on Xiao’s wrist.

…There is, Xiao thinks, no reason for Aether to lie, not anymore. Nor does Xiao doubt the abilities of a fully-fledged being of the stars. Yet to sit here, watching the others eat well while Aether touches nothing… it makes something unpleasant scratch at the inside of Xiao’s ribcage, urging him to ensure that Aether is taken care of, no matter how irrationally.

“Please,” he says, does not know what else to say, and Aether visibly softens.

Without further argument, he guides Xiao’s hand, and thus the food, back towards his mouth and takes a bite. The scratching thing in Xiao’s chest slinks away.

Aether eats the entire bun, piece by piece, straight from Xiao’s hand, his soft lips and tongue brushing over Xiao’s fingertips as he gently takes the last bites of bread. His gaze, when it flicks up to meet Xiao’s, is not indulgent, but apologetic. Turning the wrist he still has in his grasp, Aether gently presses the back of Xiao’s hand to his own cheek, just for a moment, before letting go to address the others once more.

“Did anything else I should know about happen while I was gone? I know it must have been more than a day…” Aether murmurs with a frown.

After a lull, Childe is the first to reply. “Compared to everyone else, I’ve practically been on vacation,” he snorts, apparently lazy and comfortable in the shade with a full stomach and Lord Rex’s hand in his mane. “Spent a while sleeping… then it took, uh, a couple tries to get the hang of walking around with four legs and not accidentally destroying the ground or flooding the rivers and whatnot. And the rest of the time…”

“He has largely spent with me,” Lord Rex says. “And accordingly, I have done little beyond helping Childe manage the gnosis, ensuring Xiao’s safety, and retrieving Xingqiu and Shenhe. As far as I am aware, there is nothing in particular for you to worry about.”

Aether nods, perhaps contemplative. Then he speaks again.

“And what about you, Xiao?”

Xiao cannot help but fall still. Worse, he can feel Lord Rex, Ganyu, and Childe all doing the same. “…I rested.”

“I… see.” Aether’s voice is suddenly, unmistakably cautious. “That’s good. And Zhongli was… protecting you from something?”

From himself. From his own shameful doubts. “I… I was unable to do anything else after— after. I wondered if perhaps you really had…” Left, he is unable to say.

No. To give voice to his moment of weakness will only burden Aether with greater guilt, when they all know that, in order to save everyone on the battlefield that day, his departure had been the best, and perhaps only option left. Xiao does not blame him for it, and he will nurse the stinging wound left behind in secret. It will close with time.

Aether, however, seems the opposite of soothed by Xiao’s silence.

“…You mean… you thought I had left you behind? Forever? Just like that?” Aether asks, small. Then, even quieter— “No, of course you did. What else were you supposed to think? I left behind your Heart, dissolved the bond, had no time to explain— I knew it wasn’t enough, and still, I…”

“Aether, no…” Xiao begins, but it is far too weak for his liking.

“I…” In the tight-strung silence, Aether breathes deep, the pained lines of his face settling with the exhale. “I was going to wait for a while before bringing this up, but… I don’t think I have the right anymore. Not if you’re being forced to have such thoughts,” Aether adds, turning to meet Xiao’s gaze as he says the final words.

Xiao stares back. He should say something, reassure his beloved and keep him from wasting any further energy on Xiao’s doubts, but—

“What are you thinking, Aether?” Ganyu broaches.

“You have your Heart back, love,” Aether murmurs, and Xiao feels that Heart being scraped down to the bottom by Aether’s searching gaze. “But my powers have also returned, and things are nowhere near properly balanced between us. I want to share my power with you, if you will accept it. I want to stand on equal ground with you.”

Aether… wants to give up his precious strength?

“No,” Xiao says, knowing his own eyes are wide. “I refuse to chain you to this world once again, not in that way—”

“I would not be weakened,” Aether cuts in insistently. “I promise. I’m not sacrificing myself. I would only be making you strong enough to refuse me.”

“…There is no need for such a thing. I don’t… I trust you, Aether. I always have.” Does Aether want to be rejected by Xiao? And why does it hurt so much to hear?

“Whether you should or not…” Aether mutters, almost too quiet to hear. “But Xiao,” he continues, and oh, he must be able to sense the sting of Xiao’s feelings from the bond. “This isn’t really about some potential terrible ending where you would need to hold me off, it’s just… like I said before, it’s about choice. It’s about guaranteeing your freedom, no matter what. It’s about how much more meaningful it is to stay with someone when you could leave at any time, but don’t need to. Don’t want to.”

Xiao feels as though he has been frozen to the earth as Aether leans in, imploring.

“I want your happiness, Xiao,” he pleads. “But if that’s not enough… then I have perfectly selfish reasons to want this too.”

Shuffling forward a little, Aether comes to kneel before Xiao, back straight and hand curled over his chest. “To shield you from my power, I would give you a part of it. And the thought of you carrying around that piece of me is…” A shiver visibly passes through his body.

“You…” Xiao begins, raw. Unable to give voice to how suddenly and desperately he wants the certainty Aether is offering. Unable to comprehend his own selfishness. “You should not go to such lengths for me.”

“Xiao,” is all Aether says, soft, but no less piercing.

And Xiao knows defeat. Or is it victory instead? The tide of relief in his chest is certainly far from the shame he perhaps should be feeling. “I… how would I…”

Aether smiles at him, aching and beautiful, and suddenly, it is all the reassurance Xiao needs. “Just reach in and take as much as you can hold. Lumine will help you if you need.” So saying, he spreads his hands, leaving his chest exposed within Xiao’s reach.

It is as if the world— the garden, the sunny skies, the watching eyes of the others— has fallen away, and Xiao lifts his hand, dazed. His fingertips land upon the soft silk of Aether’s tunic, and one of Aether’s free hands closes gently around his wrist.

“There you go,” Aether murmurs, and with that little guidance, Xiao takes a deep breath and slips past the barriers of the physical realm to reach for Aether’s soul.

His hand sinks in. Aether trembles around him.

 

At once, Xiao is made overpoweringly aware that nothing in this world or beyond it could possibly have made it this close to Aether’s core without Aether himself allowing it. Now, all throughout the stars of the void Aether had allowed him a glimpse of on their wedding night, scorchingly bright power swirls in every direction, and no direction at all. No longer is Aether’s universe cold and out of reach. The stars have been unleashed; their strength ready and waiting for Aether to use as he pleases.

To Xiao’s senses, the light forms an oppressive, impenetrable bulwark, an endless sea— save for the path that unfurls softly before his every step.

He has come to this place but once before, and yet he is drawn to his beloved’s true heart as surely as plovers to the mountains of Jueyun and whales to the warm harbor of Liyue. Perhaps he should be afraid. Aether is vast and formless; great enough to extinguish the flicker of Xiao’s soul in an instant— but Xiao feels nothing but peace.

He holds tightly to that peace, draping it over his skin and folding it into his every step, for even he can see that Aether still fears his own unfathomable being. Xiao will never allow that fear to grow roots. When the path firms beneath his feet, he knows he has won.

As Xiao treads onward, not merely unharmed, but caressed by rivers of flame, the storm ahead parts just enough to allow a sliver of cool darkness to slip through. Xiao pauses, cautiously lifting a hand to meet it. Though it is an unfamiliar presence, this is Aether’s domain, and Xiao finds himself unable to fear that Aether would have allowed even the smallest of threats inside.

Sure enough, the shadow responds only by… chiming at him, soft and curious and welcoming. Suddenly, Xiao knows. This must be…

“You are… Aether’s sister?” Xiao asks, and the shadows slowly coalesce.

The now vaguely human-shaped figure steps onto the path with him. “…That’s right! It’s nice to meet you, O Aether’s beloved.”

Is… is that how Aether speaks of Xiao in his mind? “I…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tease you too much.” One of the shadow’s— Lumine’s— limbs reaches out to pat him. “If my brother trusts you enough to make you immune to his— and my— power, then so do I. Do you need me to show you the way?”

Xiao stares out at the path still gently leading him onward. It does not seem as if he will need another guide, yet neither is there any particular reason to refuse. Xiao, too, wishes to know this once-lost piece of Aether’s heart.

He nods, and so Lumine falls in at his side, soundless footsteps nevertheless sending ripples across the path and out to the stars. She does not speak, and neither does Xiao, but he can feel the void softly curling over his skin, searching without judgement. In return, he is allowed a glimpse into the darkness, and there he finds a racing, rapid midnight, so different from the aurate stillness of Aether.

 

“Here we are,” Lumine murmurs suddenly, breaking Xiao from his almost meditative pace. It requires a moment’s concentration to pull away from his inner sight, and when he does, he is greeted only by the ever-present stars and currents of light that had thus far shown the way. Fleetingly, he wonders if it is possible for Lumine to be mistaken.

Then Xiao looks up.

It is the deepest, truest layer of Aether’s Heart, he knows it at once. A glorious constellation that seems to stretch on and on over a thousand universes— far time and near space, raucous vision and pale sound, dying brilliance and pulsing shadow, desperate love and unmoving loneliness. It is all far beyond Xiao’s power to comprehend, let alone reach for, and yet… between the endless points of light, there tangles a filament of something fluttering and gentle. A thin, night-cooled breeze. An element that is all too familiar.

Seamlessly, Lumine retreats to the edge of the path as Xiao trips past her in a daze.

Dancing tendrils of anemo and starlight burst from the constellation to curl over Xiao’s skin, frantic, yet overflowing with Aether’s endless affection. Xiao reaches for them in return, allowing Aether’s power to twine between his fingers and encircle his limbs— and though he once would have been terrified, now he can see it as nothing more or less than a joyful embrace. A stream of light passes over his cheek; brushes shyly against his lips, and Xiao opens his mouth just enough to taste the prickle of starlight on his tongue.

“This is Aether’s core,” Lumine says then, and when Xiao tears his eyes away from the magnificence above, it is to see her head tipped back to gaze upon the place where the star-strewn reaches fade into the void beyond. “Do you feel that? He welcomed your Heart so deeply that it has changed the taste of his power forever.”

Slowly, Xiao turns back to the constellation, mindlessly pulling the starry tendrils of Aether close against his chest. So this familiar caress of wind… is all of his own power? The pit of his stomach turns cold.

“If I have weakened him— hurt him—”

“Not at all,” Lumine counters at once. Then, strangely, she laughs, though just a breath. “I see why Aether became so enamored with you. I’ve always been a bit of an impatient lover, for better or worse, but Aether… he’s always preferred to savor things. I have no doubt he’ll take care of you to the absolute best of his ability for as long as you’ll allow, and love every second of it.”

Without further elaboration, she drifts close enough to nudge Xiao’s hand.

“In any case, this is the heart of Aether’s power. The rest is up to you. And…” Lumine’s form blurs, fading away. “Perhaps this is meaningless now, but you have my blessing. Make my brother happy, alright? I may be getting a body of my own soon enough, but I wanted to say it. You’re special to him in a way I will never be.”

She vanishes without a trace, and suddenly, Xiao finds himself alone in the vastness once more.

Alone, and yet…

 

Pleadingly, he reaches out, seeking the warmth of the stars above— and the world around him responds by folding into itself, smaller and smaller until Xiao floats not beneath, but among the lights, tossed this way and that by the gravity of a thousand celestial bodies.

He is not left to the storm for long. Before he can even wonder for his safety, a great hand, more felt than seen, comes to gather Xiao’s body into its gentle grasp, and Xiao gratefully curls up in the palm. Aether’s palm. A silvery ribbon of something— desire, perhaps? Or wonder? Slips through the bond, and Xiao takes hold of the unfamiliar emotion, allowing it to play between his fingers as he tucks it away to make sense of once this is all over.

Xiao.

That one word alone is enough to send shivers all the way down to Xiao’s Heart, proof of how truly Aether knows him. How deeply Xiao trusts him. Obediently, Xiao lifts his head to look.

A single star, tiny, and yet brighter than all the rest combined, glimmers before him. Xiao’s attention secured, it drifts close enough to touch, and so Xiao does, suddenly beyond any doubt that this is what Aether had intended him to find. What he is meant to do with this star remains uncertain— but the moment Xiao’s fingers make contact, it burbles up with a liquid glow that tingles both hot and cold over his skin.

Xiao stares at his own arms, now dripping down to the elbow with Aether’s power—and, leaving conscious thought behind, he cups his hands beneath the stream before bringing them to his lips and drinking as deeply as the well of his palms will allow.

Aether is sweet.

 

--

 

In the next instant, Xiao finds himself tumbling back into soft grass, once more present in Lord Rex’s garden. A few short cries of concern still ring in the air, and Aether is crouched at his side, fretting.

“Xiao, Xiao, are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would hit you so hard.” Aether’s thumb lifts to trace over Xiao’s lower lip, where the light had spilled from his hands and down his chin. “Did it work?”

Xiao breathes slowly. There is the warm pulse of Aether’s very being, secure in the same place as Xiao’s carefully guarded Heart. There is the open river of the bond between them, no longer just a thread, but an endless flow of power. There is the tiny curl of possessiveness around the light Xiao has just taken in, proof of the divine jealousy with which Aether hoards every sliver of power and every being that he sees as his own.

So long as Xiao holds this piece of his core, Aether will not simply abandon him, not without reason good enough to make him give up on his hoard. It is reassurance Xiao should not need, not after Aether’s promises and Lumine’s words— and yet, bearing Aether’s power feels so undeniably safe.

Slowly, Xiao sits up to nudge his forehead against Aether’s outstretched hand, and is rewarded by Aether’s soft breath of relief.

“You took in quite a bit of my power… does it feel alright? Stable?” Aether presses as Xiao takes his hand to climb to his feet. “You should be able to sense where it connects to my core.”

Xiao can, and he feels his way along the tether as if taking a leash in hand.

“If you pull on it… well, like most powers, it’s based on intention, but this should allow you to stop me in place and keep me from hurting you— or anything else you want to protect. Of course, I sincerely doubt a scenario like that will ever come to pass, but—”

With the gentlest touch he can manage, Xiao grasps the fragment of Aether’s core and tugs— and Aether’s chatter suddenly turns to silence as he crashes to his knees at Xiao’s feet.

Someone, perhaps Childe, gives a strangled shout, and Xiao himself feels icy panic jolt down his spine. But then Aether looks up, a peaceful, almost dazed smile spreading across his face, and says— “Yeah, Xiao. Exactly like that. I’m glad it worked.”

Without really thinking, Xiao drops back down to gather Aether into his arms, and Aether immediately lays his head on Xiao’s shoulder as if it belongs there. As if they were made to fit together.

“Incredible,” Lord Rex murmurs from somewhere to the side, but Xiao knows he need not give it his attention. All that matters in this moment is Aether and the precious, precious gift he has given.

“I—I hope this can ease even a little of your fears,” Aether whispers against Xiao’s neck. “And while I’m at it— you should know that everything Lumine said to you is very much the truth. I will do whatever it takes to earn a place at your side again.”

Xiao’s throat feels very closed and small, but he speaks anyway. “…I could not have asked for anything more. Please— please allow me to stay by your side as well.”

Aether hums a soft agreement, and though they must part, leaving their world of two to join the others once more, Xiao finds no dread in the thought. He has an immortal’s lifetime to share with his beloved now.

Notes:

I'm out at a cultural exchange conference doing interpretation right now, so I'm pretty busy, might come back and add more to this note later. But for now, thanks for reading and (maybe) drowning in the sauce with me!

Chapter 60: Together

Notes:

ALL AUTHORS DO IS EAT HOT CHIP AND LIE FR
I moved countries once again and experienced one of the busiest months of my ENTIRE life, and I'm sorry for the delay, but at long last, it is HERE! THE FINAL CHAPTER OF AIYCBYTK AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

TW: None that I can pick out!

And, in case you didn't have the chance to check them all out before, here is the fanart masterlist compiled one last time!! Thank you so, so much to all the wonderful, fantastic, amazing people who have made me into one of those unbearable authors who simply CANNOT stop showing off to other people the cool stuff they got!
- Xiao and Zhongli by fatecharms!
- Xiao by Vaniuwu!
- Aether kneeling for Xiao + soft Xiao and Aether by lini-art! The original artist's account is deactivated, so I'm not entirely sure what the etiquette for this is... lini-art, if you see this and want it taken down, please let me know!
- An ethereal, glorious Aether, a divine and breath-snatching Xiao, and as a bonus, an unbearably adorable chibi Xiaother all by the unlimitedly talented fofair!
- New! A dramatic doodle by nagsicle on Threads~

The next day, Aether joins Zhongli for that long-overdue trip to Liyue Harbor, best robes on and a letter from Childe to his family in hand.

Ganyu is on mandatory vacation, of course, and Chongyun had unsurprisingly chosen to stay with Xingqiu at the palace. What had been unexpected was Xiao’s decision to remain behind. It’s becoming clearer and clearer with every passing moment just how important receiving that piece of Aether’s power had been to Xiao— more than Aether could ever have guessed or hoped for. It means that Xiao only waves Aether and Zhongli off with a small, content smile and a metaphorical hand twined in Aether’s core. It means that Aether gets to revel in his trust.

Today, there is no slinking into the harbor from afar— no, Aether perches atop Zhongli’s neck, head held high as they descend straight down to the central plaza of Yujing Terrace. The jumbled crowd of laborers, merchants, and displaced common folk turn to a raucous mass with their arrival, and Aether takes the opportunity to survey the state of things. Despite the damage the attack on the harbor must have caused, repairs are well underway, and for all the chaos of people and tents and piles of rubble, the mood seems to be lively.

“Lord Rex Lapis!” a few voices cry, and “Fetch the Qixing!” hiss several others. Aether stays firmly on Zhongli’s back until he sees the rapid approach of pale hair and lavish, golden robes through the crowd. It’s been a while since Ningguang has been the one to come to him.

“Lord Rex Lapis,” she calls with a deep bow as the crowd parts for her. “You honor us with your presence once more.” Then— “And I see you have brought one of the noble adepti with you.”

Her stare is piercing. Aether muffles a cough into his sleeve. He’s never heard from Ningguang exactly how she sees him, though she knows full well that he is no mortal. Had she listened to the stories born from the night of Osial’s attack, or is she simply goading him?

“I had put my visit off for other matters long enough,” Zhongli says serenely. “If you would, Lady Ningguang, pay no heed to my presence today. I am not here for ceremony, but to serve the city as I am bound.”

“As you wish, Lord Rex Lapis,” Ningguang murmurs with another bow. “But if I might make a request…” Her gaze darts back to Aether.

“Yes, I would be happy to accompany you,” Aether finishes, dropping from Zhongli’s back with a little flourish, just because. “I think we have much to discuss as well.”

--

The Jade Chamber is as comfortingly muffled and austere as always, and Aether gives his formal report of the events of the war beyond Liyue Harbor as he serves the tea Ningguang had selected— a blend he’d designed himself almost two hundred years ago. The two others at the table— the boldly out-of-place Beidou, whom Aether has heard tell of, but never met himself, and a spymaster of Ningguang’s who had introduced herself as Yelan— also listen to his tale attentively. The only things he keeps vague are the matter of his departure from Teyvat and the exact nature of the force that had killed Saizhen in the end.

“I see…” Ningguang murmurs when he has finished. “We shall have to see about a reward of some sort for the Feiyun child… it is the least we can do in thanks.”

“A damn shame,” Beidou says, expression grave. “I’m never one not to praise heroics, but such a loss for someone so young…”

“I’ll check in with his family and take care of preparations now, then,” Yelan says, palms thumping on the table as she pushes herself to her feet. “And continue to keep an eye on anyone who might be planning to use the chaos of the city for more nefarious purposes… though with Lord Rex Lapis present, my job should be a little easier for today.”

“Thank you, Yelan,” Ningguang nods, and the woman clicks out of the office on her unreasonably high heels.

“Probably worth tossing in an offering for Rex Lapis and the adepti as well,” Beidou adds. “I’m no worshiper, but seeing as I feel I know one or two of ‘em personally, I’d like to thank them for protecting us.”

“Indeed,” Ningguang murmurs, and Aether suddenly finds two piercing gazes fixed upon him.

“I only did my part, just like everyone else,” Aether says, feeling strangely embarrassed.

Beidou snorts. “If everything you described in your report was even half true, you’re most of the reason we still have a nation left to restore. Just accept your dues, kid. You deserve it.” She, too, rises to her feet, then leans over to press a smacking kiss to Ningguang’s cheek. “Thanks for inviting me, treasure. But I’m sure you two have more political nonsense to discuss, so I’ll get out of your hair for now. Contact me anytime if you ever need a favor from the finest crew on the high seas!”

And with a careless wave back, she takes her leave.

Tearing his gaze away from the lipstick smudge over Ningguang’s otherwise perfect makeup, Aether watches her go, and when he turns back around—

“You.”

And Aether is engulfed in a sea of gold and fine brocade. Shocked as he is, it’s a long time before he remembers that he should probably wrap his arms around Ningguang in return.

“Do you know what I thought when Lady Ganyu refused to clearly tell me what had happened and where you had gone?”

“I’m sorry, Ningguang,” Aether says softly, and though Ningguang is much taller than him now, for a just moment, they are as they were twenty years ago once more, with Aether doing his best to shield her from an unkind world. “I’m here now. I’m here.”

 

--

 

Aether’s next stop is Bubu Pharmacy, just to make sure that Qiqi is alright, both for Xiao’s sake and his own. Walking up the (long since remodeled, but still familiar) stairs to the place where he had spent so long recovering and working all those years ago is unexpectedly painful— but seeing Qiqi’s little body peacefully curled up on the bed beside Baizhu’s workstation is not.

The pharmacist catches him spying, of course, and so does the snake about his shoulders, but all Aether receives is a tiny smile and a gesture for silence. Then the man returns to his medicine-making, and Aether quietly slips away too.

--

Xiangling, when Aether finds her at Wanmin Restaurant, is utterly inundated with both customers and friends as she flits around with huge platters and pots to feed a haggard crowd. A sign out front advertises ‘Free food for the hard worker!’, and besides Xiangling herself, Aether spots Xinyan, Yanfei, Yunjin, and a young girl with oversized bells in her hair all helping out as well.

Aether waves when Xiangling spots him, and the plates in her hands teeter precariously as she apparently tries to wave back.

“I’ll come back later!” Aether calls out, already satisfied to see her safe, and the last thing he catches before he leaves is Guoba waving a little paw in Xiangling’s stead.

--

Thanks to the mad chaos and city-wide scramble to put the harbor back together after two attacks essentially back-to-back, Aether is able to pass all the way through to the Feiyun Commerce Guild largely unnoticed.

There, he wanders the halls until he finds Xu, whose face is adorned by the largest, deepest pair of eyebags Aether has seen on any being, ever.

“Are you… alright, Xu?” he can’t help but ask.

Xu stares blearily up at him for a long time. “…Oh. Lord Aether, isn’t it? I’m afraid you’ve come at a bad time. In fact, you’d better leave before the master sees you. He’s not happy at all after the news about the young master.”

“Ah.” Right. Somehow Aether had forgotten about that. “I won’t stay long, then, don’t worry. I just wanted to stop by and give you authorization to use the funds in my account to support the Wanmin Restaurant volunteer effort and the rebuilding of homes in Chihu Rock.”

Xu’s eyes widen a little, but he’s not a prominent retainer of the extravagantly wealthy commerce family for nothing. “Of course, sir, I’ll take care of it as soon as possible. And… just Chihu Rock?”

Aether snorts a little. “Something tells me the merchants and nobles of Yunjing Terrace can take care of themselves. And I have no need to curry favor with them. Excuse me, then.”

Xu bows him out of the bustling hall— but of course it’s just Aether’s luck that the moment he steps out into the bright sunlight, he all but crashes into Xingqiu’s father, Qianfan.

One wild moment of shock later, the man is grabbing Aether’s shoulders in trembling, vice-like hands, and Aether absorbs the force of it without a fight. “Master Qianfan… it’s been some time.”

Qianfan completely ignores his greeting. “Aether, where have you been? Where is my son? Why will no one return him? Give me back my son!”

People in the courtyard are beginning to stare, and though Aether doesn’t really care, he imagines the dignified Qianfan will— once he regains his composure.

“Please, sir, calm down. I was… somewhat indisposed after the battles against the sealed gods, and I’ve only just been able to return. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I can promise you that, although he was indeed injured, Xingqiu is alive and well.” Aether shakes off Qianfan’s hold to bow deeply. “I am personally overseeing his recovery, and though I cannot explain everything now, you should know that I will be able to do more for him than even Lord Rex Lapis could.”

“You swear,” Qianfan says, a wild light still in his eyes. “You swear you will bring him back to me? I should never have let him leave the harbor that day—”

“I do swear it, sir,” Aether says quietly. “He is still somewhat weakened at the moment, so I cannot recommend moving him to the harbor, but that will change soon. You will be the first to know when he is ready to return. As for whether or not he should have joined the battle… I will leave it to him to explain his reasons himself when the time comes.”

Slowly, slowly, Qianfan sags back into himself. “I… I…. My apologies, Lord Aether. No one would give me a clear report as to Xingqiu’s wellbeing and I could not stand the thought my last words to him being nothing more than a scolding—”

“I understand,” is all Aether says. He doesn’t add that the reason no one had given Qianfan proper answers before was likely because no one had been sure Xingqiu would live at all, let alone recover. “You should go inside, Master Qianfan. Perhaps have a cup of tea.”

“That… yes, I’ll do that.” Looking somewhat dazed, Qianfan turns away and trudges into the shadows of the Guild hall. Aether sighs and chases off the remaining stares in the courtyard with a few sharp glances of his own.

Just two stops left.

--

It’s a literal breath of fresh air to leave the walls of the city behind and head up the mountain path toward where Aether knows Childe’s family lives.

From this vantage point, it’s easier to see the wider toll the war had taken on the harbor. In particular, the precious docks have been decimated by wave and fire, and Aether can already imagine the economic crises Ningguang will have to navigate in the near future.

…Possibly with his help. He should prepare himself for letters demanding an audience.

Somewhat surprisingly, in contrast with the city center, the houses here are largely untouched. Perhaps because the people within them had fled before the demons arrived, and so the houses themselves had been of little interest to the enemy. In any case, it’s promising for the wellbeing of Childe’s family, and Aether approaches their front door to knock with slight trepidation.

Even with Childe’s letter of, presumably, explanation and apology for his absence to pass on, if his family asks any further questions, what can Aether say? That their precious son and brother has become a dragon and the new god of Liyue? Absolutely not.

Before he can work himself into any actual panic, the door creaks open to reveal Childe’s mother, dressed in an ash-stained apron and looking somewhat thinner and more strained than the last time Aether had seen her.

“Hello?” she says. “May I help you?” Then her eyes widen. “Oh… it’s you!”

“Ah… good afternoon, ma’am,” Aether says, and how is it that a being as old and experienced as him can still be this awkward? He can feel Lumine laughing at him from within. “I suppose you saw me on the city wall the day Ch— uh, Ajax went to meet up with you. My name is Aether, and I’ve just come to check on you and your family on his behalf.”

The spoon in her hand clatters to the ground. “Ajax? You’ve seen him? Is he alright?”

Whether wealthy businessman or hardworking housewife, it seems all parents are united in fear for their children.

“I have, and he’s just fine. He put a lot on the line to help us win the final battle, but he’s recovered now. I have a letter from him here, actually.”

Aether holds said letter out, and Childe’s mother snatches it out of his hands to tear it open, gaze skipping across the pages. The longer she reads, the further her expression collapses, and she eventually slips down the door frame to the ground, grip crumpling the papers in her hands.

“So he’s one of the Geo Archon’s servants now… no, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Why else would we have been provided for so bountifully? I only wish…” her face twists painfully. “If he truly is happy, I have no right to interfere. Not after being the one to send him away in the first place.”

At last, she looks up. “Goodness. I’m sorry, dear, to make you see me like this. My name is Motya. I’m afraid we’re still in the middle of tidying up, but why don’t you come inside? There’s fresh-baked bread.”

“No, rather, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. And I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“Nonsense. I’m sure you had to come out of your way to deliver this.” Motya flaps the pages of the letter with one hand and shoos him inside with the other. “Are you also one of the Geo Archon’s servants? A… oh, what did Yury say they were called… an adeptus, perhaps?”

Aether tilts his head with a wry huff. “Well… close enough, I suppose. My role is different from Ajax’s, but I do act on Rex Lapis’s orders, so…”

Motya studies him for a moment. “It seems I’ve invited a rather important person into our humble home. I hope a bit of dark rye isn’t too unrefined for your tastes?”

“Not at all, ma’am. I used to be a normal laborer in Liyue Harbor, so if anything, homemade bread is quite a luxury,” Aether tries to smile reassuringly at her.

“Oh, just call me Motya, dear. Bread will be out in a moment.”

As he takes a seat at the scuffed wooden table, two faces poke out from the doorway beside the kitchen— one woman and one young girl.

“Tonia, Alyona, come introduce yourselves and have some bread,” Motya calls. Then— “Aether, these are my daughters. Their brothers are either out working or taking a nap. I don’t suppose Ajax has spoken of us already? Girls, this is Aether, the boy who was watching over us from the wall that day. He’s brought news from Ajax.”

“From brother?” Tonia gasps, and she darts straight to Motya and the letter in her hands. Alyona comes at a more sedate pace, curtseying politely to Aether, but ultimately aiming for the letter as well.

Motya sighs. “Please excuse them, Aether. They’ve been awfully worried about their brother, and I never quite knew how to reassure them.”

“Not at all,” Aether murmurs again, and gratefully sinks his teeth into the slice of soft, warm rye she places before of him. Truthfully, he’s perfectly fine being of least concern to the children. Without Childe there to lead the interaction, he’s not quite sure what to say to them.

That does not, however, stop him from quietly tracing a blessing of his own into the doorframe on his way out of the house. It’s probably unnecessary, given how thickly Zhongli’s protections still smother this place, but it’s the least Aether can do.

--

A different rural path leads Aether’s steps back toward the harbor, and almost without thinking, he wanders his way down to the village where his old house is nestled and comes to stand before the door.

His little three-room home looks so small compared to the luxury of Zhongli’s palace. It’s almost hard to believe how long he’d lived here, slowly wasting away without Xiao in his life.

A Feiyun Commerce Guild ownership seal has been placed at the entrance, but Aether brushes past it to push open the unlocked door.

Everything is exactly as he’d left it on that desperate night. Aether trails a finger through the film of dust on his kitchen table, spends a while simply staring at the jinzi tea set still on display on its little stand, and mindlessly straightens out the rumpled sheets on his long-unused bed.

His melancholy must’ve been stronger than he’d thought, because a pulse of worry drifts in from Xiao’s end of the bond. Aether soothes it on reflex. This is something he wants to face alone, at least for now.

He no longer needs this place, nor everything it represents. Yet neither does it feel right to simply leave it here to rot.

A tug at the edge of his awareness makes him look up from his stupor, and Aether retraces his steps back to the door in time to see Zhongli, still in full draconic magnificence, appear on the path and land with a resounding crash.

“Aether,” he greets warmly. “My work in the harbor is finished. Would you prefer to return with me, or on your own?”

Aether looks around. Somehow, the horizon had already begun to stain a vivid orange without him even realizing it.

“I’ll go with you,” he says quietly. “Just— give me a moment.”

Hurrying back inside, he gathers his jinzi tea set into a spare box, as well as a few old tomes that might be worth adding to Zhongli’s collection, and the half-empty mora chest still untouched beneath his bed.

There’s not much else to take, really.

“Old memories?” Zhongli asks gently when he steps outside again.

“This wasn’t exactly a happy place. But… there are some things worth keeping.”

Zhongli sniffs at the box in his arms. “I see. Would you perhaps like me to burn what is left?”

Aether blinks up at him. “Can you?”

“I may be the Archon of Geo, but raw power is more than enough for kindling. Stand back.”

So Aether does, glancing around at the scattered, curious crowd that has begun to form as Zhongli sinks his claws into the earth beside the house. A spark flickers, and in the next moment, the entire structure is engulfed in white hot flame. Aether steps back a little more as the heat washes over his skin.

It doesn’t take long at all for the fire to burn out, and when it’s done, all that’s left is ash and the pile of heat-washed stones that had formed his altar to Xiao. It’s… fitting, somehow. A tiny monument to the past.

Zhongli gives a satisfied nod. “Let us return.”

Aether scrambles up Zhongli’s flank, tangling his fingers in the welcoming softness of his mane, and they fly off without looking back.

 

-*-

 

Upon their return to the palace, Xiao slips back into place at Aether’s side as if he’d never left, and stays that way all throughout a quiet dinner and the return of the inhabitants of the palace to their respective rooms to rest. Then, as they together crawl into cool sheets of their bed, Xiao opens his arms without prompting so Aether may curl up between them, warm and safe and far from the loneliest past he had ever known.

Aether nuzzles into Xiao’s chest for a while, just because he can, and just as he’s drifting off, a sleepy thought occurs to him.

“Xiao?”

“Mm?”

“You know I did something today that I’ve been wanting to do for a while now.” He glances blearily up at the jinzi tea set now lovingly arranged by Xiao atop one of their dressers.

“Mm.”

“So I think I’ll have a good dream tonight.”

“Mm.”

“If I do… I want you to eat it.”

Xiao’s grip abruptly tightens around him. “…What do you mean?”

“I told you once, didn’t I?” Aether slurs, closing his eyes again. “When we had the chance, I wanted you to try a good dream.”

“…No. I cannot risk it.”

Aether rubs his cheek against Xiao’s collarbone. “There is no risk. Especially not now that I have my true power back. Please, Xiao? You deserve it.”

It is proof of how much Xiao wants that he wavers at all.

“…It is unnecessary.”

“Maybe,” Aether counters. “But so is what we’re doing right now, and you wanted to give me that, right? Let me do the same for you.”

Xiao is silent.

“I promise… everything will be fine.”

With Xiao’s hand gently stroking back his hair, Aether falls asleep.

 

--

 

Dreaming, as a being of boundless consciousness willingly tethered to a finite mortal body, is strange.

Aether steps out into a sea of blue flowers, the starry void soaring above his head. There, across the field, stands Xiao, his face tipped up to the sky, and Aether runs to him with light steps.

“Hi,” Aether whispers, and Xiao reaches for him, steady.

“Hello.”

Suddenly, they’re together in the beyond, petals tossing around them. It’s pitch dark and perfectly bright at the same time, just as it always is among the stars. Moving is effortless, not quite flying and not quite walking, and Aether takes full advantage to grasp Xiao’s arms and swing him about.

“Aether,” Xiao says, and the stars are still reflected in his eyes even as he looks down. There are blue flowers in his hair and twined about his horns. A soft, true smile adorns his face.

Aether reaches out to kiss him, and the world fades away.

 

--

 

When Aether wakes, his mind is as peaceful and clear as the still waters of Luhua. Even Lumine is luxuriating in the silence.

Slowly rising and pushing off the blankets tucked over his body, Aether looks to the side.

Xiao is fast asleep, his fingers curled in Aether’s tunic and long hair spilling out across the pillows and over the far side of the bed. The same soft smile Aether had seen in the dream renders his face innocent and untouched by the eons.

“Sweet dreams, Xiao,” Aether whispers.

 

-*-

 

Daybreak sees Xingqiu able to safely sit up for the first time since he was wounded, and Xiao assists Chongyun in gently lifting the boy in a chair specially reconstructed for his comfort. In that way, Lord Rex is finally able to host a meal at a full table in the grand hall— attended not only those who had already been in the palace yesterday, but also the guardian adepti in their rarely used mortal forms, Streetward Rambler, and even the Anemo Archon.

“One is pleased to see you well,” Cloud Retainer says, looking down at Xiao from her place to his left.

Xiao nods his gratitude.

“Despite everything,” she finishes with a cutting look at Aether, who, though he had been facing the entirely opposite direction to speak with Ganyu, flinches.

“Do not speak ill of Aether,” Xiao says shortly. “Both I and Lord Rex have forgiven him, so it would be meaningless to pursue a grudge.”

“Hmph.”

It is perhaps all the acquiescence Xiao will ever receive from her.

Across the table, Lord Rex and Childe are eating together, hand-and-gnosis-in-hand to keep Childe in his human form, Shenhe is listening blankly to some joint lecture by Streetward Rambler and Mountain Shaper, Aether is indulgently limp in Barbatos’s grasp as the Archon yells in his face and sobs on his shoulder by turns, and Chongyun and Xingqiu are… eating in stiff silence, never looking each other in the eyes.

It is so strange and starkly different from just the day before, that, as soon as the meal is over and the dishes are tidied away, Xiao follows the two young humans out of the hall.

Chongyun is pushing Xingqiu’s chair without complaint, but even in private they do not speak, and so Xiao continues his hunt all the way out to one of the balconies overlooking the spires of Jueyun Karst. The fog has burned away in the late morning light, and the sky is far too vibrant a blue for the disaster which had taken place mere days before.

The two humans settle side-by-side at the railing to look out at the view, and Xiao lingers in the shadows of the doorway to observe both.

“I’m glad we could eat with everyone today,” Chongyun says.

“It was a most refreshing change of scenery,” Xingqiu agrees.

Silence.

“Will you go back to Liyue Harbor as soon as you can walk again? Aether did say your father isn’t angry…” Chongyun says.

“I haven’t quite decided yet. I do miss my family, but once I return, I wonder how long it will be before I will be allowed to leave the manor again.” Xingqiu replies.

More silence.

“There’s no need to think too much on what I said, you know,” Xingqiu says quietly.

“I can’t help it now!” Chongyun yelps. “Just…”

“I understand if you don’t want to be with someone like me.” Despite Xingqiu’s apathetic tone, the words come unsteady, and his splinted arm shifts in place.

“No! No, that’s not it…”

So, this trouble is to do with Xingqiu’s final words before his sacrifice against the Chi. Xiao turns to leave— but like a fatal blow on the battlefield, all it takes is one small misfortune to spell his end.

As he takes his next step, the floorboards creak, loudly, and the two humans behind him startle.

“Huh— Xiao?!”

Xiao falls still, frozen and hunted. “…Apologies. I should not have pried. Your words will remain private.”

“No, it— it’s fine!” Chongyun stammers. “We weren’t exactly hiding.”

Slowly, Xiao turns back to face them.

“…Perhaps it is not my place. But I do not understand why you fight.”

“We’re not fighting!” Both humans exclaim.

“I am only being selfish, loving without anything to offer in return,” Xingqiu continues.

“I just don’t understand why he wants me!” Chongyun yelps, almost at the same time.

At once, they stop, jerking about to stare at each other.

Xiao truly does not understand why he is still here. Surely his presence will only stir up the shadows of conflict further?

“…What are you talking about?” Xingqiu asks first, and though he does not have the hands to reach out, his eyes are beseeching enough. “Chongyun— how could anyone not want you? Just look at you— and your skills— and how kind you are even when no one deserves it—!”

It is odd to hear Xingqiu speak as freely as Chongyun and the others who live among human society.

“There’s— there’s no way! I’m the one who has nothing to offer! With your family, and money of your own, and perfect control over your Vision, you—”

“But I’m ruined!” Xingqiu sobs, tears spilling over. “Even if Aether heals me, it won’t be all the way. And I’m grateful, I am! But I’ll need help with things for the rest of my life, and I can’t put that on you. And my family… I had everything because I was the perfect son for them. Now…”

Xiao can feel Aether plucking worriedly away at the bond, feeling his way down Xiao’s helpless panic.

“You can’t decide that for me!” Chongyun cries, his own eyes now shining. “I was already going to take care of you forever if it meant I could stay with you. And if your family won’t take you back, I will. I told you that!”

“But why, when you said you were glad to be free from all old connections to your— to the clan?”

Chongyun gives Xingqiu a horror-struck gaze. “Free from— Xingqiu, you’re not a connection to them! You— you’re the only reason I didn’t just give up, way before we met Aether. You were the one thing that made me think maybe it was worth it to stay alive, despite everything!”

The fervor between them fades in an instant.

“…Yunyun…” Xingqiu whispers.

Tears dripping from his chin, Chongyun whirls to face Xiao. “Please, tell him he’s wrong. Tell him he— he’s being selfish!”

Then there are two pairs of eyes fixed upon him, and Xiao has never felt more keenly the call of the shadows, promising to whisk him away.

“…You each have exactly that which you desire within your grasp,” he says eventually. “I do not understand why you refuse to take the final step. Aether waited thousands of years for me, though I could have gone to him at any moment. It is one of my greatest regrets.”

The humans stare at him for a moment longer. Look at each other.

“…I suppose it would be foolish to ignore the wisdom of a yaksha,” Xingqiu muses aloud.

“Yeah,” Chongyun sniffs.

“Then…”

“Then?”

“Won’t you give me a kiss?”

“What?! Chongyun shrieks, ear-splittingly high. His pale skin, from forehead to ear to neck, flashes a violent crimson.

“That is the typical flow of things in these sorts of scenes, is it not?” A grin curls across Xingqiu’s bandaged face. “The warrior completes some incredible feat, and at his last moments, professes his love and receives a kiss from the maiden?”

Chongyun only splutters further. “Maid— no, first of all, what do you mean, typical?”

 

Xiao at last gives in to his urges and dives into the peaceful, indifferent sea of shadows.

 

--

 

Though Aether gathers Xiao into his arms just as gently and soothingly as always, upon hearing Xiao’s plight, his response is nothing more than a deep amusement.

“It was about time,” he murmurs once Xiao has finished his tale. “I suppose I’ll talk to them later myself, just to make sure everything is alright. But look at you, Xiao, staying to set them on the right track, no matter how hard it was. I’m so proud.”

“I may only have stirred more conflict,” Xiao says uncertainly, but Aether shh’s him.

“Not a chance. If anything, your advice is exactly what they needed.” Aether smiles fondly at him. “Sometimes, simplicity is best.”

Xiao hums doubtfully, but… Aether would not tell Xiao something he himself did not believe. It is not worth thinking on further. Instead, he says, “You… were speaking with Lord Barbatos. Was there perhaps some trouble?”

“Ah, yes. Of a sort. Apparently that Knight captain we met the night we went to offer assistance to the Mondstadt forces was affected by my cleansing power… not unexpected, I suppose. His curse felt much like Childe’s.” Aether squints a little. “In any case, Venti asked if there was anything I could do to stabilize him, so I bottled up some of my power for him to take back. If that doesn’t help, I’ll go myself, but with any luck, it won’t come to that.”

“Hm.” Xiao remembers hearing of the matter at Wangshu Inn, but it had become an issue of vanishing importance in the wake of Aether’s return. Still… it is not a bad thing to hear the human will be healed.

Satisfied enough, he burrows further into Aether’s chest, drinking in the soft laughter that vibrates through the body beneath him as they both tip over on the floor of the tearoom where Aether had been relaxing. The muted scent of jasmine wafts from the cup on the table, and Xiao revels in the knowledge that such smells no longer trouble him at all.

Everything he has ever wanted in this world is his to hold, now.

 

-*-

 

For all the time she’d spent building up her strength, Lumine’s first step back into Teyvat is wildly anticlimactic.

I’m ready, she says one night just as Aether is climbing into Zhongli’s nest to join the pile of others, and her power pushes against the inside of his ribcage.

“Are you sure?” he asks out loud, prompting several curious gazes to fix upon him.

I want to join too, she pouts, so Aether stops on an empty patch of blanket and opens his arms.

“Alright.”

They are both starlight, but while Aether is the long blaze, Lumine has always been the dark void, and it shows in her appearance.

The air between Aether’s hands collapses to nothingness, then shapeless form, then all of a sudden, existence. Lumine’s simple tunic flutters down around her, and she opens golden eyes beneath golden hair to meet his gaze.

Gasps rise around them, but Aether can barely hear them. Launching himself forward, he throws his arms around his sister.

“Long time no see, brother,” Lumine says carelessly, but in the next moment, she clings back just as tightly.

It’s strange. They’ve been reunited for some time now, bound together in soul, as close as two beings could possibly be— and yet it feels different, somehow, meeting her in this human body.

Lumine sinks to the bed first, taking Aether down with her, and Aether holds her ever closer when she hides her face in his shoulder. She’s trembling, just slightly. Of course Lumine had shared with him the blind terror of her underground prison, burned her memories of endless agony into the stars as Aether struggled to return her strength… but now, with the separation of their minds, Aether is able to steady her, rather than shake to pieces right alongside.

“Lumine,” he whispers, and she sighs in response, slowly relaxing.

The others give them a moment together before Zhongli speaks up.

“Forgive my interruption, but… might I presume you are Aether’s long-sought sister?”

“That’s right.” Lumine releases her death grip on Aether to give Zhongli a little bow. “I’ve been looking forward to properly meeting you as well. Thank you for taking care of my brother.”

A little wide-eyed, Zhongli’s great head sways back and forth. “No, I only regret that I was unable to do more for him— and you. If I had perhaps been more thorough in maintaining the various seals…”

Lumine smiles, but it is sad. “Some things just can’t be helped. The threads of Fate can be awfully hard to cut, after all.”

“Even so…”

Lumine turns to Xiao next, greets him with a gentle clasping of their hands. Aether knows his fondness for Xiao has long-since bled into her consciousness as well, but there’s really nothing he can do about it. The things they share have been both blessing and curse over the eons.

Although Xiao’s expression doesn’t change much— it rarely does— he takes Lumine’s hands in return, and Aether can feel his quiet curiosity though the bond.

“…Your appearance is very similar to Aether’s.”

Lumine laughs softly. “We are siblings, after all, and I thought it would be best to match your world’s expectations of family. Besides, if my brother is loved in this world in the form he chose, why experiment with something completely different when I already know what works?”

Xiao appears to ponder that for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, he turns to Aether. “You chose your own body when coming to this world.”

“…In a way.” Aether frowns to himself. “It’s true that I designed this form, but my choices weren’t random. This body is still a true expression of my self. Just… limited by the laws of Teyvat.” Now that he says it out loud, it sounds uncomfortably like he’s somehow been lying to Xiao just by existing… even if he’d had no way of changing his form until very, very recently.

Xiao only blinks at him placidly. “It does not matter to me.” I would love you anyway, Aether hears.

“You worry too much, Aether,” Lumine quips, because she knows him all too well. “You should have seen your beloved in your starscape. I mean, you did, but… you could have looked like a speck of spacedust for all he cared.”

Aether had seen it. He’d felt Xiao’s fearlessness in the face of his vastness and tasted the sweetness of Xiao’s soul embracing the tendrils of his own, but it still helps to hear it out loud.

Mortal reassurance for a mortal body.

Lumine reaches for Chongyun and Xingqiu next, her entire bearing softening as she greets them though a lens of affection built by Aether’s years of watching them grow.

“It—it’s nice to meet you, Miss Lumine,” Chongyun responds shyly, and with a strong undercurrent of awe— just as he’d had upon meeting Aether for the first time. “Aether’s been looking for you for a long time…”

Lumine smiles at him. “It’s nice to meet you as well. Aether had quite a lot to say about you and your friend when we finally reunited.”

 

The others don’t quite seem to know how to welcome Lumine, not when they’ve known of her for so long without the hope of ever meeting her in person. Aether isn’t too worried, though. They have all the time in the world to work on it.

In the end, they simply settle down for another nest night as always, just with one extra person in their midst.

Aether curls up in the spoon of Xiao’s body, Lumine’s hand in his, Childe’s silvery tail draped over his legs, and the protective barrier around Xingqiu’s fragile body warm in his senses.

Sleep has never come easier.

 

--*--

 

The morning dawns bright and cool and quiet.

There is no war. No shadowy karma to battle back. There is no work left in the city of humans, nothing more to restore in the lofty mountains of the gods. Lord Rex curls around his beloved in their nest and Ganyu sleeps peacefully in the shade of a flowering tree while Lumine, Shenhe, and Cloud Retainer gleefully test their blades against each other mere paces away. Chongyun and Xingqiu sit on the banks of the stream that runs through Lord Rex’s garden, fingers shyly intertwined and shoulders touching.

As for Xiao, he is allowed to stand at the border of earth and air, watching as his love spreads wings of glorious light and takes freely to the sky. Aether spirals as he ascends, a star in the blue, and then—

“Xiao!” he calls, joyful, hand outstretched unconditionally, and Xiao wastes not a second in leaping up after him.

The winds sweep him along, just as eager, and when he tumbles into Aether’s arms, the breeze flickers along their skin, full of adoration for those who those who adore it in return, never mind that Aether no longer bears a Heart of anemo.

“Finally,” Aether breathes, his wings— beautiful and free, everything Xiao had once imagined and more— beating eddies into the sky. “Please, Xiao— fly with me?”

Aether’s lips are soft when Xiao kisses them, and his fingertips are stars where they press into Xiao’s nape.

“Lead the way,” Xiao says, breathless, and Aether does.

 

-*-

 

The adeptus is born of the longest, darkest night of the year, in the harsh of a storm and beneath the earth-shaking crash of lightning, but his future is bathed in warm light, streaming rain, and dancing gales.

No longer is he uncertain. No longer is the world unknown. With bleeding fingers he has dragged himself through endless time and fathomless pain, and in warm, patient hands he has found love and true belonging.

Once, he had waited through the storm— but there is no need to wait, not anymore, because he has been found, over and over again, by those who had never stopped trying to reach him.

The ancient adeptus is full, full, full; beloved of humans, gods, adepti, and the universe all alike. The strings of Fate might have slipped, but such a mistake was never the end. A certain star would never have allowed it.

And when that star passes by, extending an open hand to a well-worn and time-forged ancient spirit?

Xiao knows exactly how to take it.

Notes:

And so it ends.

 

I cannot believe it has been over three years since I started writing this monstrosity, and it's even crazier to me that it has become easily my most popular work, kudosed and bookmarked enough to get it pretty dang high on the pages of Ao3. At this point, this fic is just a pillar of my life, and I don't even know what to do now that it's gone lol. I've gone through a lot (LOT) of life changes throughout the course of writing this, and honestly I wonder if that can be seen in my writing. At the very least, I hope my skill has improved, even just a little!

Thank you so much to everyone who read, kudosed, commented, visited me on tumblr, and did everything else to cheer me on! They say don't write for the validation, but boy does that little inbox notification sure help for motivation lol. I've said it before, but I'll say it again: you guys are the reason this fic has kept going for so long, the reason I could keep adding fresh ideas and plot points, and for SURE the reason I committed all the way to the finish. I know there are a lot of things in this story that aren't completely wrapped up, and I have vague ideas for short afterstories, but frankly I don't want to get anyone's hopes up. If they happen, they happen, but I'm also ready to move on to other, even more self-indulgent projects!

If you've read this far, double thank-you! Although I plan to work on Six for Gold and Hiraeth for a while, I also have some new plots cooking... so let's have a vote! Assuming you enjoyed my works and would be willing to read something else from me, what would you prefer to see?:
1) A Kaeya-centric Khaenri'ahan Kingdom isekai harem AU in which Kaeya takes the place of evil Kaeya to rehabilitate the men of his harem and whoops, they fell in love?
or
2) An Aether and possibly Albedo-centric ANGST FEST in which both are taken captive for human experimentation, followed by the hurt/comfort of their recovery?
I'd enjoy either one >:)

To my incredibly dedicated betas Dragon and Wizard, thank you so much for all your help over the years despite your packed real-life schedules! I hereby release you from my service lmao. You guys were the reason I got into not just fanfic, but the fanfic community, so I thank you even more for that!

FINALLY, as is my tradition with every long fic, I will be responding to EVERY SINGLE comment on this final chapter! I'm sorry I suck at replying to comments otherwise, it takes a lot of time and brainpower out of my poor single braincell, but I want to show my appreciation for you all as well, even if just this little bit!

If you like, keep an eye on my tumblr to see what I'm up to next, and I hope to see you all on another fic!!
~Winter

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Speak My Name