Chapter Text
The peak of the Flower Weaver’s festival drew near with the rescinding twilight, allowing the namesake stars of Vega and Altair to peek through the curtain of dusk and witness the celebration of their everlasting love. People of all sorts made their way across to the bridges, to the docks, to the closest body of water they could find-- where they would soon scatter flowers at the first sight of the Deneb star bridge, to honour the ancient fish adepti who had helped the Flower Weaver Vega reunite with her beloved Cow Herder Altair.
"Today we honour a tradition passed down from a time before the establishment of our golden harbour." The storyteller fanned away a stray Gingko leaf that fluttered towards him, before he closed said fan with a snap, pointing the tip towards the sunset dyed sky. "Legend speaks of a beautiful adepti named Flower Weaver, who had fallen in love with a cow herder for his kind soul and golden heart."
"However, the seeds of their love were sown amidst turbulent times." The storyteller warned with a hushed whisper, a hand gesturing to the sea beyond the harbour. "Osial, Overlord of the Vortex, had summoned the Deluge of Three Moons, ravaging the inhabitants of Dihua Marsh and the Guili Assembly. And the Cow Herder, a mere mortal as opposed to his divine lover, was feared to be alongside many who perished in the fray.”
“When the news reached the Flower Weaver, she was inconsolable, and even before she kowtowed upon the azurite floors of Rex Lapis’ floating palace to beg for aid, the Lord of Geo already knew of her plight, for all the flowers of Liyue had wilted, crying with her.
“But the Lord of Geo was already entrenched in warfare with Osial and his forces, protecting and guiding those who had managed to escape the storm towards the safe harbour we reside in today.” A snap, and the storyteller’s fan was opened once again, this time revealing a school of Dawncatcher fish painted with hues of silver and gold. “And so he called upon Tide Seeker, who had also been moved by Flower Weaver’s tale of persevering love, and thus called upon her fellow clan members to swim against the might of Osial’s rage, forming a bridge between the stranded inhabitants of the storm and the safety of the mainland.”
“It is said that Tide Seeker had personally guided a haggard but living Cow Herder back to Flower Weaver, who had cried with joy, all the flowers on the earth blossoming in tow. The two lovers then declared their eternal gratitude towards Tide Seeker and her clan, providing the most fragrant of flowers to their benefactors as thanks.”
“And we honour this act of gratitude even today, at the end of the monsoon season, where we will soon scatter flowers into the rivers and seas for the descendents of Tide Seeker to enjoy.” The storyteller finished his tale with a flourish, scattering sweet flower petals to the delight of the squealing children sitting in the front row. “While her children may not have the same awe-inspiring power that bested storms of old, some say they still retain the power to reunite lovers and bestow protection upon them, and that those who seek such blessings should speak their wishes into their most favourite flower before scattering them to the waters.”
I wonder how the people might react if I told them that there was never any Tide Seeker. Zhongli mused, his golden gaze ever watchful from his adeptal palace at the peaks of Jueyun Karst. He directed his adeptal scrying tool away from Liyue Harbour and towards Qingce village, where he smiled at how children merrily adorned each other with flower crowns, whilst the adults paraded around with flower bouquets, ready to toss them into the waters.
The truth of the matter was that the Flower Weaver’s festival was merely a scheme cooked up by a shrewd florist from Liyue Harbour to increase their profits, and the little lie had transformed into a full blown tradition after marinating itself in time. But Zhongli figured the festival-- while founded upon a lie-- wasn’t hurting anyone nor did it damage the wildlife, and was even helping the economy, so he had let it slide.
He would carry the truth, allowing him to perceive and prevent real threats to Liyue’s prosperous way of life. The balance between inciting societal progress and upholding ancient tradition was incredibly delicate, and he was one of the rare few who had the power and influence to correct these scales.
Ironically enough, just as he was about to ponder about those fitting into such a criteria, a member of the aforementioned few had just walked into his office.
“Are you not going to join them my lord?”
“And you would have me toss flowers into the river, risking further indignation from an already irate Cloud Retainer?” Zhongli looked from the scryer to find Madame Ping entering his office chambers with her own flower crown, undoubtedly a gift from the children of Liyue Harbour. She had always been a troublemaker, even in her youth, and to see her still causing chaos till this day elicited a small grin of his own. “Have you no self-preservation?”
“The mortals venturing near her abode to pick Qingxin flowers this time of year have little to do with the silk flowers upon my crown. She is not one to berate me on baseless accusations.” Madame Ping laughed airily, her hands then gesturing at the scryer, bringing his attention back to the tool once more. “Again, my lord, do you not wish to join them? Surely the experience is better than looking through a water mirror-- it is less lonely, for one."
Zhongli blinked owlishly, his brows then furrowed as he directed a confused stare at his old friend. "I am unsure if you speak with impudence towards my authority, or with worry towards my well-being."
"A bit of both, as usual. But more of the latter-- someone reminded me that you were basically a princess trapped in a tower like the Mondstadt fairytales of old, which raises some cause for concern."
He balked. What in the world? "I am far from such a thing. We adepti are protectors-- akin to living in watchtowers as deity guardians as opposed to prisoners-"
"But you have been doing it for so long that you have accidentally trapped yourself in your own duties." Madame Ping had the gall to chuckle, taking a single silk flower from her crown and placing it on Zhongli's table. "For you, my lord. From a concerned little girl who has yet to be instilled with awe of your achievements, and so dares to worry that the great Rex Lapis could suffer from loneliness."
There was a tense silence-- a second passed, then another, before Zhongli let out an exasperated groan, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. "I assume you yourself are the little girl in question?"
"Hah! Your sense of humour is as wondrous as ever my lord. But alas, this flower truly is from a child of three, not three thousand." Madame Ping let out another laugh as she watched Zhongli gingerly pick up the silk flower, its pale petals seemingly golden in the last light of the setting sun. “Little Ling had politely asked me whether Rex Lapis was going to enjoy the fragrance of the flowers, borne of the earth that he had so dutifully nurtured.”
“Speak your mind-- without the pretense, I implore you. ” Zhongli let out a sigh for the nth time, setting the silk down as his eyes narrowed at the ever present grin on Madame Ping’s features. “I am in no mood for riddles. Surely I have garnered enough respect for that.”
“I will, when my lord respects his subjects enough to stop dodging their questions." The sparkle in Madame Ping's eyes betrayed the wizened facade she adopted. “Again, I will ask-- isn’t it lonely to watch your people enjoy the festivities from an isolated distance?”
Zhongli hummed, contemplative. This high up, he figured he was closer to the stars than his people down below, their bodies like colourful specks of dust, the city lantern lights like guiding fireflies, the sounds of their hustling and bustling deafened by the sound of strong winds. As Rex Lapis, he was undoubtedly proud of his domain, of how it flourished and thrived.
As Zhongli, well --
Such a beautiful view, and he secretly lamented how few he could share it with-- it was unbecoming of Rex Lapis to summon his illustrious adepti on such a petty whim. The worth of their time was beyond that of such a mundane request, and an unfair trade was blasphemous in the land of contracts, especially from the mouth of its archon.
Thankfully, he was still immortal at the core, so he knew that these unwanted feelings, like most other things, will fade with time. Thus, he elected to ignore it.
“Loneliness is… beneath me.” He ended up responding with a curt tone, his arms firmly set behind his back as he gazed back into the water mirror, the images of a colourful flower parade shimmering back to life. “I am confident that my place is here.”
Madame Ping, however, didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. In fact, she even dared to tut at him as she placed her hands on the edge of the water mirror, overriding his command to change its view to that of the clear waters between Stone Gate and Dihua Marsh.
“My esteemed lord, you have yet to answer my question.” This time, it was her turn to sigh. “I see where Alatus gets his stubbornness from-- like master, like servant. Moving mountains would have been easier.”
“This level of disrespect is truly--” A flash of pale white interrupted his train of thought.
Within the water mirror, hundreds upon hundreds of cecilia flowers floated down the river, the astonished crowd gathered at the nearby boardwalks gasping at the sight, some in awe, but a good majority looked confused, mumbling with regards to how they somehow managed to pop out of nowhere .
Cecilias were also notoriously known for being exclusively found amongst the harsh winds of Starsnatch Cliff, far from the reaches of the people residing near Stone Gate.
Which meant that whatever this was, was his fault.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear . Barbatos somehow always managed to be simultaneously discreet yet glaringly inconspicuous, and this time, Zhongli managed to spot him in the form of an emerald finch with subtle anemo markings, his tiny body comfortably nestled in one of the cecilia flower crowns bobbing merrily down the river.
The accompanying wind sang in the language of old, indecipherable to mortal ears but clear as a summer’s day to his adeptal self. Its lyrics were sickeningly saccharine like the sweet flowers abundant between both Liyue and Mondstadt, lavishing the most tender of affections towards its intended recipient. Of course Barbatos would be so disgraceful as to use his archon powers for such insipid actions.
Zhongli found it distasteful beyond belief, the way Barbatos kept mocking the Vigilant Yaksha with his drunken caterwauling. “This transgression towards Alatus will not go unpunished--”
“ Transgression ? My lord, surely you see this as a serenade?”
“Serenade? For Alatus? Preposterous .” Zhongli huffed, the essence of his Vortex Vanquisher manifesting in the palm of his hand. There was an urge for a meteor, but such a construct would ruin the festivities, and rationality came before his ire for that drunken bard. Such inconveniences needed to be dealt with in person.
“I’ll hurl that menace back into the taverns whence he came.”
“He's already done this much-- at least let the flowers reach Wangshu Inn before they disappear."
"You knew about this ." A rising temper warmed his blood, eyes narrowing. Silly of him for thinking that Madame Ping would visit him on her own accord, to even think that--
Wait. That was not the point.
"Barbatos." Yes. That was the point. That sad excuse for an archon. "He roped you into his schemes."
"You would have struck him down before he could even explain, and so I volunteered to be the mediator. But fear not my lord, there are benefits to Liyue as a result of his scheme-- particularly for one of its most dutiful protectors." Both of them watched Barbatos starting to warble along with the tune. Despite the comical scene, her lips were a thin line, brows furrowed for just a split second. "Alatus, he... has not been well, especially with the recent infestation at Wuwang-- but this is perhaps not news to you."
“It isn’t.” And it was sobering to admit that he was unsure of the solution to this dilemma. He had tried providing the best of medicine to stave off the evil karma, but his dear loyal Alatus had kept to his contract even to this day, continually taking on the burden of karmic debt for the sake of Liyue. Medicine could only help so much before it too, became poison.
An amendment to the contract, while seemingly the most reasonable solution, was in fact the least feasible-- it would be a grave insult to Alatus. Moreover, with Bosacius missing for two centuries and counting, it was likely that he was the last of his ranks, and thus it was ever the more vital that Alatus tended to his duties. As much as he held a great degree of concern with Alatus, Liyue will always come first.
He hoped that one day, the lingering hatred that plagued the land would finally fade, and the illuminated garuda could finally don his mask not for battle, but for song and dance amongst the flowers. But until then, he must endure.
Surely having Barbatos tempt him in such a way must be infuriating.
But when the flowers reached their destination, Alatus was already there waiting, a lone figure silhouetted against the night sky, on the roof of Wangshu Inn. Golden raptor eyes widened at the arrival of cecilia flowers, a stark contrast against the other familiar Liyuen foliage floating on the river.
Whispers of the wind seemed to caress Alatus' entire being, his hair fluttering aside to reveal reddened cheeks and a dumbstruck expression. Even with the recent intake of karmic debt leaving grotesque wounds across his features, there was somehow a simple innocence that persisted, something Zhongli thought had been thoroughly destroyed by his previous master.
Cecilia, tell him how much I love him so. The wind sang sweetly, its last note sounding more like a coo. For often he forgets his heart is of rarest gold.
"I…" Alatus took a tentative step forward, wounded hands gingerly outstretched to seemingly caress the wind back-- an impossible feat, but the young adepti tried it nonetheless. "Lord Barbatos?"
Barbatos was silent amongst the cecilia flowers, watching with rapt attention as Alatus made his way down to the river, hands tenderly cupping one of the cecilia flowers into his palms. His mouth moved, uttering the smallest of whispers to the flower before placing it back upon the water, letting it float amongst the others.
But no matter how soft, how quiet– Zhongli would always hear his subject's words, their calls, their wishes .
Lord Barbatos you– I mean– thank you for your comfort through flowers and songs, but– and I hold nothing but deepest gratitude to you, and maybe even– no, this affection… I cannot. My duty… and you are another archon while I am bound to my esteemed lord. Please forgive me. I am honoured but I am truly sorry.
An uncomfortable swell of emotion rose from Zhongli's chest to throat as he watched a dark melancholy encapture Alatus' lonely figure, the yaksha bowing to nothing before swiftly disappearing back into the darkness of the night. The mirror images wavered back into the crystal clear waters after, leaving Barbatos’ fate unknown. A sobering few seconds of silence festered between Zhongli and Madame Ping before the latter broke it.
“That’s… strange. This was not the order of events we had discussed.”
“Barbatos has always been fickle.” But what was once annoyance and irritation faded into something more worrying, especially when the scrying tool did not revert back to Barbatos’ figure upon Zhongli’s command. “I shall greet our guest before he wanders into more trouble.”
“My Lord–” Madame Ping’s words warped out of earshot before she could finish, the golden walls of the Imperial palace fading into the backdrop of Wangshu Inn as he teleported to its bridge in the form of a golden hawk. The cecilias were even lovelier in person, their ivory petals reflecting pale yellow in the light of the lanterns. Swarms of people were now gathered at the waterside, enjoying how the flowers twirled and danced upon the smooth river currents, thankfully making his abrupt entrance from the air less conspicuous.
As expected, Barbatos was still floating in his cecilia flower crown, barely conscious as his vessel was starting to enter the waters of Yaoguang shoal.
What a foolish excuse of an Archon. Zhongli picked Barbatos up with ease, flying them to the top of a mountain nearby, far from the curious gaze of mortals. There, he returned to his mortal form and brought Barbatos to the palm of his hand, where the finch began to stir, his eyes barely opening before he let out an indignant chirp, tiny eyes immediately closed shut again.
“I guess I got petrified before I could enjoy the festivities. Boo hoo.”
“Would you rather be ash? I hear the Raiden Shogun is particularly good with her lightning bolts– your vehicle was bound for Inazuman waters prior to my intervention.” Zhongli hissed, eyes narrowed. But a singsong reply never came, only laboured breathing from the tiny finch before him.
A sigh left him, a mixture of pity and worry settling weirdly at his core. Thousands of years had passed and he had yet to fully comprehend the enigma that was the inner workings of his old friend.
“Why do you do such asinine things when you know you are approaching your limit? And to be so bold in your actions before cowardly disappearing for Celestia knows when.”
“But Alatus liked it, didn't he? Hehe.” Barbatos’ words came out in pained wheezes, the sound tugging at something in his chest. “You and I both know he could never let himself reciprocate, so–”
“Your fondness is a burden to him.”
“His duty is a burden to him. I'm just reminding him that he's allowed to be happy. And before you call me an irresponsible lout and toss me back across the border–” Zhongli huffed, indignant at how well Barbatos knew him sometimes, the beginnings of a geo pillar indeed manifesting beneath Barbatos’ place. “--I know it can’t be helped, when your contracts have been dealt. But just so you know! I think they totally blow! They are literally the antithesis of my entire being! The total opposite of freeing!”
“Your stanza is failing. You must truly be ailing.” Zhongli countered back. But Barbatos, chaotic? Definitely. Irresponsible? Far from it . Barbatos had his begrudging respect because he would lay down his life for his nation and it showed. He did not like the way Barbatos operated, unpredictable with haphazardous plans and no failsafe whatsoever, but it did not mean that he did not acknowledge Barbatos as an archon who loved his people.
And, this fondness included one of his own subjects, it seemed. The revelation was confusing, but intriguing.
However, he could see that Barbatos was in no shape to retort nor answer to his musings, the tiny finch now glowing with anemo energy, undoubtedly returning to his original form to conserve his energy. A sigh left his lips. “How long will you sleep this time?”
“Maybe… a hundred years, five hundred… who knows?” The glow of his being grew brighter and brighter until he was naught but a glowing ball and his words a faint whisper. “Hey now, don’t grow too lonely, old friend. Time is like the wind, you know? Lifts the light and leaves the heavy– you can’t keep clinging on to the past.”
Shameless and a hypocrite. Barbatos still clinged onto the same mortal form time and time again. He was in no position to advise him on the matters of guilt and grief. But arguing with him now was a waste of effort, for the anemo archon was now a sleeping wind wisp of pure anemo energy, floating in the palm of his hand.
Barbatos then dispersed himself into tiny little Dandelion seeds, swiftly crossing the border between Mingyun and Vindagnyr, undoubtedly heading towards the land of gentle breeze and verdant pastures.
Sleep well, old friend. And there went one less companion, with no timeline as to when he would return– if he would return.
"Happy Flower Weaver festival indeed." Zhongli murmured, feeling the fatigue in his bones, his heart heavy as he looked across the ocean from his place upon the top of the mountain, past the calm waters of Yaoguang shoal. In his mind, he argued that the loneliness Barbatos insisted was not the same as solitude, which he felt pertained more to his circumstances. But, well–
The image of Alatus releasing the cecilia flower into the water haunted him, the scene undoubtedly a lonely sight to behold.
How different was it, juxtaposed to his distanced gaze from his palace beyond the clouds? Was this what Madame Ping saw?
Celestia help him– lonely? Yearning? Him? Surely not.
Blockhead! The immediate chastising retort in his head sounded like a mix of Guizhong and Barbatos, to which he scoffed, shaking his head at the thought. Rock did not wither like flowers, nor were they sporadic like the wind. The Geo archon would weather it all, steadfast and steady.
But perhaps… if his subjects saw issues with his solitude and expended unnecessary energy worrying for him, perhaps this would be a good opportunity to raise morale. Hmm, perhaps the economy even.
It’s settled then . Zhongli hummed in contemplation. Time for him to make up a new tradition for the populace.
—
—
“This was not what I meant when I told him that he should do something about his lone rock status. It was more of a ‘stop being so dang uptight so people would be less scared to be your friend!’ but noooooo. He just goes off the deep end! Ugh! Curse his blockheadedness I just– I can’t believe how the first thing I hear after my super short twenty year nap is someone asking for my blessings to win Morax’s stupid challenge! For his hand in marriage! Can you believe it?”
“Technically, the terms of his contract state that the reward was merely permission to court him.”
“That’s basically marriage and two kids with that traditionalist! I’m telling you he’s finally lost it, Dvalin! The old man’s gone off his rocker!”
“You’re barely a hundred years younger than the Geo Archon, Barbatos. Such similarity in age, actually, has posed a problem.”
“Huh?”
“There are those who think the anemo archon is similarly looking for a bride. A considerable number of challengers have asked Andrius and I for your hand in marriage. As you would expect, the former is very unhappy with this, and I would suggest clearing this up via a dream to the Knights of Favonius post haste, lest the wolves of Wolvedom take matters into their own hands.
“What? You mean I have to clean up after Morax’s mess this time? Forget this. I’m going back to sleep after telling the Grandmaster my heart belongs only to wine and song-”
“Also. That young adeptus that you were so fond of– he was quite upset at the rumours despite my insistence that they were false.”
“No. You’re joking. You have got to be joking– nooooooo it took me three hundred years to even get him to talk to me— damn you Morax! You oafish buffoon you–”