Bolero of Stones and Dragons

by anxiousPhantom0

Summary:

The chaos continues.

Sharzad is not ready to die by meteorite. Unfortunately for her, Morax will probably launch one at her the second he sees her, so making a deal with the Archon of Geo is going to be a bit more complicated than she wants it to be.

Aether is wondering what the heck is going on with his life. There are so many confusing things about his traveling companion, and that mysterious (and very cute) Adeptus is not helping him decide whether to trust Sharzad or not. He hopes he can.

Meanwhile, Liyue's Archon Quest is two seconds from beginning and a certain ginger Harbinger has an extra mission now: find and kill the horned demon that ripped off La Signora's arm when she seized the Anemo Gnosis. Oh, and a certain Archon of Geo has a new contract to sign.

Notes:

Hi! This is technically the third fic in a long-form series, so I'd recommend reading the first one so you have some context for everything. Or don't, and stay for the chaos.

To everyone who's been reading so far, thank you so much for continuing along! There's a lot more fun coming now that we're at Liyue!

Updates every Saturday as of March 1 2025

Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Chapter II: Trail to Liyue

QUEST

Trail to Liyue

Make it to Wangshu Inn before sundown.

Sharzad hummed a little song in time with the beat of her footsteps. It was a crisp, clear morning, and despite the chill in the air and the clouds hiding the sun, she felt more energized than she had in days.

She, Aether, and Paimon had left Mondstadt early that morning, only stopping for breakfast and a farewell to the Knights of Favonius. Sharzad didn’t miss Kaeya and Diluc meeting at the edge of the crowd to watch them go. It seemed they really had talked it out. Good. Maybe when they came back to Mondstadt, they’d be friendlier with each other.

“If you need any help, Mondstadt will be here,” Jean promised. “Thank you again for your help, Honorary Knights.”

“Thank you for welcoming us and allowing us to help you,” Sharzad replied. “Send a message if there’s another dragon problem.”

“With hope, the Stormterror incident will not repeat itself for a few centuries.”

Sharzad smiled. “Then if stray gods come running through, or another Abyssal army threatens your doorstep, send out a message. I will be here. You have my word.”

“Hey! Don’t conveniently leave Paimon and Helios out!” Paimon put her hands on her hips, flying forward so she could look Sharzad in the eye. “You’re trying to be a hero all on your own!”

“Chill out, Paimon. I’m just giving you two the chance to opt out.”

“Well, Paimon doesn’t want to!”

Aether huffed. “Speak for yourself.” But he smiled nonetheless, so the message wasn’t nearly as aggressive as he might have wanted.

They received a few more goodbyes from the Knights. Amber promised to keep an eye out for Lumine if she ever showed up, but Sharzad didn’t think they’d receive any news about Aether’s sister. She was making a point to avoid her brother, after all.

For her part, Lisa advised them to stay away from Ley Lines and keep an eye out for any Akademiya scholars headed her way (so she could avoid them, of course). The other Knights had shorter, friendly goodbyes and thank-yous and, to Deshret’s chagrin, Venti watched them leave from the top of Mondstadt’s walls.

“That damn Archon should be down there with the rest of them rather than keeping that identity of his a secret.”

“It’s not in his nature to rule,” Nabu reminded her husband softly.

Deshret sighed, but nodded. There must have been some other comment that went unsaid, since, without another word, Deshret shrank down to the form of a jackal and leapt into Nabu’s arms. She stroked him gently as they crossed the bridge and began their journey westward.

They veered right past Springvale, taking the road through the cliffs of Windwail Highland. Tall stone walls stretched above, making Sharzad feel like she was trapped in a box with an open lid. The ground below her feet was a mix of light snow cover and fallen rocks. Wind whipped through the canyon, pushing her hair into her face and mouth and causing her to splutter.

Eventually, Sharzad caved to her discomfort and drew her hair behind her head, wrapping a ribbon around it to keep it away from her face. Once that was finished, she sighed and willed the air around her to warm, enough to cause the snow under her feet to melt.

Aether laughed at the sight. “Finally cold?”

She jabbed her finger at him in response. “You don’t get to talk, Mister I only wear this one crop-top.” Sighing, Sharzad turned to Paimon, who was shivering despite her new cloak. “Come closer, Paimon, you look like you’re about to freeze.”

“Oh, did you warm up the air?” The little pixie flew closer to Sharzad, a little shudder going through her body as she entered the bubble of warm air around Sharzad. “Ooooooo, Paimon feels much better! Thanks Sharzad.”

“No problem.”

Within two hours, they crossed the border into Liyue. Or, they probably did, seeing as the snow continued into the nation of Geo, preventing Sharzad from seeing the change in the colour of the grass. Had the background music been on, perhaps she’d have been able to tell, but Sharzad hadn’t turned it on in the name of some much needed peace and normal nature sounds.

Still, Nabu confirmed where they were when Sharzad asked about it. “We’re in Liyue.”

“You can tell?”

“I can sense the species of grass, yes.” The goddess blinked, brown eyes wide in realisation. “Oh. I must have not taught you that yet.”

“I’m supposed to tell?”

“Perhaps eventually. We’ll have to find time for that in your lessons.”

Sharzad winced. “I don’t know if we’ll have a lot of time for that. Deshret’s already been pushing me more since I asked him to–”

Deshret, still in jackal form, raised his head. “We can discuss it.”

He’d taken the accusations of him coddling Sharzad all too seriously, and for the last month or so had been determined to make it so that Sharzad never complained about being coddled again. This included lessons in her dreams that left her head spinning with information about Deshret’s former kingdom and power training that left what Nabu called her meridians sore. Sharzad’s body apparently interpreted meridians as muscles, and she’d even woken up a day after a particularly grueling session with an inability to walk.

Deshret, for his part, apologized for the last one.

“You have dedicated yourself to your studies for the past month. With the progress you have been making, perhaps it is not such a bad idea to adjust the schedule. Nabu has wanted to work with you as well for a while.”

“Adjust the whole schedule?” she asked. “Isn’t that a little excessive?”

Despite being a ghost, Nabu bumped Sharzad’s shoulder with hers in a reassuring kind of way. “You won’t be able to stop him. Don’t bother arguing with him.”

Sharzad sighed. “Fine.”

“What’s going on?” Paimon asked.

“Deshret stuff.” She sighed again. “No big deal.”

“Your training is quite important. A gargantuan deal, if that helps.”

What a good thing Sharzad had never taught him slang. She couldn’t imagine Deshret saying something like bruh, mood, or, gods forbid, yeet seriously.

The mental image of him seriously telling her to yeet that vagrant off the cliff, Sharzad, simultaneously made her cringe and laugh.

Hiding her smile with a hand, Sharzad shook her head. “Yeah, important.”

“What is?”

“My training.”

“Oh.” Paimon flew in front of her. “Do you think we could learn to see them some day? That way we can talk to them without you having to translate! Or get possessed—that stuff looks soooo creepy!”

Sharzad shrugged, because honestly, she had no idea. Maybe she’d test a few things out when she had time. You know, after the Liyue Archon Quest bullshit.

~~~

They made it to Wangshu Inn just as night began to fall, and that was where they met their first hurdle. The hurdle being a wooden sign posted in front of a staircase leading up the stone structure, at the top of which sat the inn they were supposed to be staying at.

Sharzad let out an ungodly screech at the sight of a rope barring their way forward. Sensing danger, Aether stepped back. The air around Sharzad fully sizzled with how hot it got, and at the same time, flowers sprouted from the ground in a six-foot radius around where she stood.

“The stairs are broken?!”

Aether stared at the rope-off hotel entrance. “I guess so.”

“What the actual fuck— come on. We’re going to take the elevator.”

There was an elevator here? Really? The people of Mondstadt used oil lamps and wax candles to light their way but Liyue had elevators?! Seriously—oh, it was meant for cargo. Not for people.

That made sense.

“Ooooh, we’re so high up!” Paimon exclaimed as the lift slowly brought them skyward.

“Don’t look down,” Aether advised.

Paimon let out a little whimper and flew closer to Aether. Yeah, they were high. Had the inn once served a more military purpose? Was safety really such a concern that they had to build it out of reach from anything on the ground?

Sharzad took care of their rooms within minutes. She shoved Aether’s room key into his hand as soon as she had it. “Rooms first,” she ordered. “Meet me on the terrace outside—I’ll get you two some dinner.”

“Are you sure?” Paimon asked. “We can help carry stuff!”

They received a look that clearly meant I’m done with this shit. “I’m sure. Go.”

Given the rather . . . annoyed state she’d been in ten minutes earlier, Aether made the smart decision and went to his room. Paimon would be sharing with Sharzad, apparently, but she came down with him anyway, rather than staying with the Sumerian scholar.

Once inside his room, he set his backpack on his bed with a sigh. The place was spartan, hosting nothing more than a small bed and a table with a lantern to light the place. Thankfully, there was also a small bathroom with a toilet, sink, and washbasin. He hoped their accommodations in Liyue Harbour would be slightly cosier than this.

“Is it just Paimon, or is Sharzad really frustrated today?” Paimon commented.

“She’s probably tired. The last few weeks have been rough for her.”

“That’s true! Paimon doesn’t understand how she isn’t falling asleep while standing up. Especially since she’s been training for hours every day!”

Aether had accompanied the scholar out on most days, doing commissions in the mornings before Sharzad started practicing with her abilities or her weapons. He’d only been roped into combat training once or twice, but most of the time, Sharzad worked alone in the wilds of Mondstadt. Whether she was slaying monsters, challenging domains, or doing something else entirely, she returned to the city with sweat-soaked clothing and barely enough energy to eat dinner.

His stomach rumbled at the thought, a reminder of what Sharzad was doing right now. Aether hoped Liyuean cuisine would taste good.

Paimon grabbed his hand and pulled him off the bed. “Come on, let’s go see what she’s up to!”

They climbed back up to the top floor of Wangshu Inn and wandered out to the balcony. By now, the sun had set, leaving a beautiful ceiling of stars overhead and a mostly-indiscernible view of Liyue, made dark save for a few spots lit by elemental manifestations and small villages (if you could even call five or six houses a village). After visiting worlds where light pollution blotted out all the stars in the sky, turning even night into perpetual day, he was glad for the sight of the stars and a sliver of moon.

Sharzad stood near the balcony’s railing, talking to someone Aether couldn’t quite make out. They were shorter than her by an inch or two, and had a somewhat jagged haircut, but Aether couldn’t make out much else.

“. . . I can guarantee you they’re nothing like the karma you have to accumulate. My body’s well-adjusted to the amounts of energy it has to conduct to manifest stuff. Don’t worry.”

Paimon spoke up as they walked closer. “Hey Sharzad! We’re back!”

The stranger tensed, turning around to meet Aether’s eyes with yellow ones that strangely reminded him of certain species of bird. From a closer viewpoint, Aether noticed spiked shoulder armor and the colourful tattoos stretching out across scarred skin. His face, too, was scarred, faded pink and white marks running jagged across his jaw, nose, and forehead. A purple diamond mark sat in the middle of his forehead, and an Anemo Vision was fixed to one of his gloves.

“Great. We’ll eat in a bit, just let me finish this conversation–” Sharzad stopped herself short. “–oh, by the way, this is Xiao. Xiao, these are Paimon and Helios, my travelling companions for the moment. They’re the ones looking for Morax.”

Paimon beamed. “Yep! We want to meet him at the Rite of Descension! Ae—the Traveler here has some questions for him!”

Aether forced himself to keep a neutral expression.

Close call. Especially since Sharzad already knew he wasn’t from Teyvat. Could she reasonably figure out he gave her a false name if Paimon slipped up enough?

“You know Rex Lapis?” Aether asked instead of worrying about Sharzad. This was more important—it could be a way to find the god faster. A way to find Lumine faster.

Xiao hesitated for a moment, lips slightly parted like he’d instinctively begun to speak before controlling himself. His gaze turned downwards, as if what he said next was a great shame to him. “I am one of his adepti.”

Aether frowned. Why would being one of Rex Lapis’ adepti be a bad thing? From what Lisa told him, the adepti were noble creatures, powerful beasts either born as immortals or ascended from simple existence to being higher life forms. She’d warned him to be polite and respectful around them—the adepti were intelligent, yes, but often proud creatures, easily offended by the slightest remarks.

But Xiao didn’t seem proud of being an adeptus at all. If anything, he seemed embarrassed or regretful to be one. Weird.

“For what question do you seek my master?” Xiao asked before Aether could ponder this further. “I know your friend here seeks power and a reunion.”

“A reunion?!” Paimon pointed accusingly at Sharzad. “You didn’t tell us you know Rex Lapis!”

Sharzad held her hands out. “Chill, Paimon, I don’t know the guy personally. Morax and Deshret are old acquaintances. Or something.”

Aether blinked. Something? Did she mean friends? Enemies? Lovers?!

Is Deshret the type to cheat on his wife? Or are the gods here allowed to do that kind of thing?

Sharzad held out a plate of something that looked like meat and mushrooms. Clearly, she’d already given one to Paimon, who was already eating hers several feet away. “By the way, here’s your food. Matsusake Meat Rolls.”

“Where did you get this?” Xiao asked, eyes narrowed.

“Smiley Yanxiao, at the restaurant,” Sharzad replied calmly.

The adeptus looked ready to start stabbing. “You know what I mean. Where did you store this food?”

Aether hurriedly took his plate from Sharzad and stepped back to eat his food and watch the chaos. Maybe he’d finally get answers about Sharzad’s mysterious food storage power. If Xiao found it weird, it definitely meant that Sharzad wasn’t normal.

Maybe the reason people in Mondstadt didn’t ask questions was because she was so strange that pulling fresh food out of thin air didn’t seem too far-fetched. As an immortal, Xiao must have had plenty of time to decide what was normal and what wasn’t. And clearly, the food stuff wasn’t normal.

One of the gods must have said something, because Xiao suddenly turned his glare on the empty air to Sharzad’s left. “That is not within your domain, god of flowers. Do not lie to protect her.”

Sharzad raised her head, straightening her posture as she did so. “I have a right to keep my secrets.”

So it was something private. Aether guessed as much when she’d deflected it early. It’s a function of what I am. Just another godly power. Don’t question it. And she’d told him that she wouldn’t pry if he didn’t, but part of him was just too curious about this. Too suspicious, too. What was she hiding? Could she really be a friend? What if she was tracking Lumine for nefarious purposes?

“Rex Lapis will ask you worse.” Glowering, Xiao crossed his arms. “And he will not give you his power.”

“I think I’ll let him speak for himself.”

Given how Xiao’s gaze travelled sideways again, one of the gods was probably talking. Given the frowns gracing both his and Sharzad’s faces, it was probably Deshret saying something slightly (or very) offensive.

Then, Sharzad groaned. “Let’s talk on our own, Nabu. Deshret.”

Patting Aether on the shoulder, she added a short, “I’ll be back soon,” before she summoned a series of plants to give her access to the roof. They crumbled to dust seconds after she stepped on them, leaving no easy path upwards.

“You’re travelling with her,” Xiao told him. Eyes narrowed, he tilted his head at Aether. “Why?”

Despite clearly not being the target of the question, Paimon answered anyway: “Paimon’s not entirely sure why since she just showed up one day, but Sharzad’s really strong and she can bring gods close to her, so she’s really helpful!”

“She met you in Mondstadt.”

“Uh-huh! There was this big dragon problem related to the Abyss, and she helped to defeat its army while we were busy.”

Xiao’s eyes were so narrowed, they might as well have been closed. Or maybe he’d closed them in exasperation. “Did you not find it strange that she just happened to be in Mondstadt?”

Aether shrugged. “Not really.”

“You fully believe she came to Mondstadt despite the dragon?”

“I think the dragon is why she went.”

“Then she seeks power.” Xiao glared at Sharzad’s shadowy silhouette, which was moving back and forth on the rooftop. “And that is a greed that will kill her. You humans are not meant for it.”

Well, Aether definitely wasn’t human, but he wasn’t about to tell Xiao that little tidbit. So he shrugged again. “I don’t think she’s as power-hungry as you think.”

Once again, Xiao turned his judgement upon Aether. “Then pay closer attention. She’s not as upfront as you believe.”

Before Aether could say anything else, the adeptus disappeared in a burst of ink-black energy and teal feathers.

“Wah! He just disappeared!”

Aether stared into his plate of Matsusake Meat Rolls like it would give him answers. Why was Xiao so distrustful of Sharzad? Why did he say Sharzad was power-hungry when she outright told Dvalin that she wasn’t actively seeking power? Was he meant to trust Sharzad? Xiao? Neither?

It wasn’t like he trusted Sharzad to the level Xiao seemed to be implying. As a companion, sure, or maybe a friend, but he certainly had some reservations. He couldn’t blame her for keeping secrets from him—after all, he also had his own—but she oscillated between blunt honesty and deeply hidden secrets at the flip of a coin. And there was something about her abilities . . .

Aether had learned that different worlds had different rules, but the people there tended to follow them, no matter how unconsciously. Magic, physics, biology, etc always worked in specific ways, never straying from their limits without dire consequences or interference from outside worlds. As far as Aether knew, Sharzad’s food-related abilities were rare, if not completely unseen anywhere else in Teyvat. He might blame it on her gods, but Xiao had been correct—where did cooked dishes fit in the domains of a desert god or a Goddess of Flowers? Where did healing?

And she told Dvalin that the gods came to her because of where she came from. What she was.

What does that even mean?

~~~

The roof tiles made strange noises under her feet. It was somewhere between crunching rocks and the clinking of ceramic pieces against one another.

Okay. Note to self: you cannot be stealthy on this damn roof.

Sighing, she turned to face Deshret and Nabu, who stood next to one another. “You need to control yourselves. I was going to handle that.”

Deshret crossed his arms. “If you think I was willing to step aside and let him speak to Nabu Malikata in that tone–”

“If Xiao reports this to Morax, I am done for.” Sharzad winced as her voice cracked. “I know you say he’s your friend or acquaintance or whatever, but I don’t think Morax will trust someone with powers that are obviously not from Teyvat. You realise that, right?”

“He will sense them anyway.”

“Then I’ve signed my own death warrant by stepping in Liyue. We’re lucky Venti is half as nice as he is, because otherwise, I would have died the second he heard that Dvalin made a deal with me. We’re lucky I’m not insane enough to ask every god I meet for a deal, because he would have killed me.” Wobbling slightly, Sharzad sat on the roof. She pulled a plate of Aaru mixed rice from her Inventory and started eating it. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Morax attacks me on sight.”

“I will speak to him if he does. He will not go that far.”

“You don’t know that, Deshret! You’ve been promising that for months, but that’s not a guarantee! People change over the millennia, and I—Morax could kill me.”

“He will listen if you make a contract.”

Sharzad nearly choked on her mouthful of rice. “We don’t have one ready!”

“We will have to negotiate anyway,” Nabu said. “But if we come prepared to offer a contract, I think Morax would be hard-pressed to kill you immediately. Although I doubt he will kill you in the first place. Even in the worst of the Archon War, Morax still had mercy to give.”

“I–” Sharzad sighed. “–I don’t think I can believe that. I mean, even you two– ” she pointed at Deshret. “–you were fine with letting me die when we first met! If that was normal at that time, I don’t see why Morax would be so different.”

Nabu sat next to her. “Morax works by contract. His word is solid as stone. But it is not how Amun works. It is not how I work. We made those deals with you for our own reasons, and I am certain Morax will hear you out for his own, too.”

For our own reasons.

That was true. That was true. The nature of deal-making was probably why Sharzad could remember the exact wording of both of those deals she made, but she could remember them. Yes, she’d promised to protect humanity. Yes, she’d promised to preserve Teyvat and seek out its hidden truths and secrets.

But she’d also promised Nabu vengeance. She’d promised Deshret that she would end the Heavenly Principles’ tyranny. That hadn’t aligned with Sharzad’s goals—it was the gods who wanted this. Their selfish desires. Their quests for vengeance for what they had lost millennia before.

And though it had slipped her mind over the years, she hadn’t forgotten the deals because she wasn’t allowed to. Their mercy— Deshret’s mercy especially—came at the cost of helping them with their end goals. Helping them rewrite the order of Teyvat, and take vengeance against those who had wronged them.

She just hadn’t been actively seeking to fulfill them until her more recent deal with Deshret. Until she’d been given a title and the promise of a kingdom in the future. Until what was but a distant future became something much more tangible. Until just a stray wish could summon sunbeams, turn weaponry to sand, or suck the very heat from the air around her.

“I’ve been unfair to you both, haven’t I?” she asked.

The Goddess of Flowers tilted her head. “In what way?”

“I promised you to—I promised you vengeance.” Her voice threatened to break, but she forced it to remain steady. “And instead I spent two years wallowing in self-pity. I didn’t train for months, and I only started because I had something tangible that would give me more power and authority. I haven’t been fulfilling the contracts.”

There was a moment of silence.

Then, Deshret started to laugh. “Vengeance,” he coughed out. “Vengeance. The amount of power you would need for vengeance is far greater than whatever Nabu or I could give you.”

“I haven’t been active–”

“It is better not to be.” Sharzad could have sworn she felt Nabu’s comforting hand on her forearm. “If you are to defeat them, you must keep your motivations a secret. Amun and I will rework the schedule and train you together. But unless you can amass more diverse powers, unless you can utilize more of ours with nothing more than the blink of an eye, you will not stand a chance against them. Do you understand?”

Sharzad swallowed, raising her head to stare at the false stars above them. “Yes. Rework the schedule, then. Teach me everything you know. Both of you.” Turning her head, she made eye contact with Nabu, still sitting besides her, and Deshret, standing a few feet away. “I want to be an heir you both can be proud of.”

Chapter 2: Chapter II: Old Friends Reunite

QUEST

Trail to Liyue

Explore Liyue Harbor

They left Wangshu Inn early the next morning and immediately met their first obstacle in the form of a Millelith outpost. One that Sharzad didn’t remember existing when she travelled through the region the first time.

When they lined up behind the merchants, travellers, adventurers, and others who had already arrived at the checkpoint, it became clear that this was an annual occurrence.

“Ugh, I seriously thought I was ahead of them! This time of year is always the worst!”

“I promise you, the only things in here are tea leaves! I’m from Chenyu Vale!”

“Hold up for the Rite of Descension, really? I have a meeting at Yanshang Teahouse in three hours!”

As it turned out, everyone was meant to be inspected for anything illegal, dangerous, or otherwise possibly harmful to the Rite of Descension agenda (kind of hilarious given what was going to happen this year). Thankfully, the ten or so Millelith assembled at the checkpoint eventually split the large group into two lines, where seven of them took care of the merchants and traders with carts or carriages and the other three inspected bags.

“Purpose of your travels?” one of the three soldiers asked as his comrades inspected their bags.

“He’s looking for his twin sister,” Paimon said. “Paimon and Sharzad are helping him.”

The soldier turned his attention to Aether. “Your sister?”

The Traveler stared at the ground. “She’s missing. I haven’t seen her in months.”

“Fill in a report at the Millelith headquarters when you arrive at Liyue Harbor, kid.” The soldier gave Aether two pats on the shoulder. “We’ll do our best to keep an eye out for someone that looks like you.”

The Millelith let them leave mere minutes later, and then they continued southward. They stopped every so often for a quick break, including at a Statue of the Seven. Sharzad touched it to activate it (only after Aether did, though, just to be careful), and then sat against a tree to watch Aether do something stupid.

“I am begging you, do not cause a rockslide.”

Aether lowered his arm by a fraction of an inch, but he still wore an absolutely maniacal grin as he levitated several chunks of solidified Geo in his palm. “All I’m doing is holding it.”

“And where is it going to go when you’re done?”

Somehow, Aether’s grin got wider. He tossed the Geo chunks into the air, caught them, and then chucked them at the ground barely a metre away from where Sharzad sat.

She leapt to her feet with a yelp as a massive, glowing chunk of stone and earth erupted from the ground, creating small tremors and sending snow flying in her direction.

“You little shit– ” 

Despite the light snow covering the ground, blackberry bushes (each branch loaded with several thorns) sprouted in a circle around Aether. Unfortunately, the Traveler seemed completely unfazed by this development.

“Paimon, fresh blackberries,” he deadpanned. “Sharzad lost control again.”

The little pixie flew towards the bushes, immediately reaching for the shiny berries growing in clusters. “Oooh!”

“Careful Paimon,” Sharzad warned. “There are thorns.”

Nodding, Paimon floated towards the brambles anyway, pulling out handfuls of the fresh berries with a grin on her face. Purple-red juice stained the corners of her mouth and her lips as she ate her way through the berries.

Meanwhile, Aether activated his Anemo powers and leapt over the bushes like they were merely puddles under his feet, landing a short distance from Sharzad. If only she had thought to surround him with brambles on all sides. Assuming he wouldn’t have just burrowed under them with his ridiculous new Geo powers.

“I didn’t lose control, you moron.” She smacked his face with a freshly-grown fern. 

“Ow!”

Glaring at Aether, she forced the fern to wither, leaving nothing but plant dust and the impressions of roots and leaves in the snow. “You deserve it.”

“I was teasing!”

“You threw rocks two feet away from me! How am I supposed to react?”

“With the dignity and maturity of a true queen.”

She pulled one of the desert king’s daggers from her belt, pointing the blade at her patron’s ghostly form. “Deshret, I will stab you.”

Crossing his arms, Deshret raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “This is highly immature of you.”

“I am sixteen! I am allowed to be immature! Especially when someone–” she turned to jab the dagger in Aether’s direction, but did not get it anywhere near his body. “–decides it’s a good idea to chuck his newly gained powers next to where I’m sitting!”

Aether stared at her for a few seconds, before narrowing his eyes. “Is this how you got Diluc to give you the wine?”

“What?! No! Why would you think that?!”

“Probably because there is a knife in your hand and you just threatened me with it, Sharzad.”

She tucked the dagger away, glaring at Deshret all the while. “Not helping, Deshret!”

~~~

Liyue Harbor smelled like the sea. And fish.

A lot of fish.

Which certainly explained why the inn they found (however cheap it was) equipped their rooms with bundles of incense sticks to burn. They weren’t out in the open, of course, but Sharzad found them while searching for shelves to store her clothes. Paimon inspected them while Sharzad exchanged her sweat-soaked traveling outfit for a set of lightweight, Sumeru-style clothing.

Paimon picked one of them up and sniffed it. “Sooooo, we’re supposed to burn these?”

“I guess? We probably don’t have to since we’re keeping the windows shut, but if you really want to . . . ”

“No no no! Paimon was just asking questions.” Tilting her head, Paimon floated closer to Sharzad. “You know, you cooled down really quickly, didn’t you? You wanted to stab Helios just two hours ago!”

“Can you even blame me, Paimon? He was two seconds away from blowing my torso wide open!”

Paimon flew back, hands leaping to cover her mouth. “Ah! Paimon didn’t even think about that!” Her voice lowered, sheepish now. “Maybe you were right after all.”

“Ha, maybe I was.” As she secured her outer jacket—a Mondstadt purchase that, thankfully, didn’t clash with her clothes from home—she gave Paimon a once-over. “We should try to see if someone could make you a jacket or a cloak so you can stay warmer.”

“Thaaaaat might be a good idea, actually. Paimon keeps having to ask you for warmth after all! That’s gotta be tiring.”

Sharzad glanced at her hands, opening and closing her palms. “Maybe not on a normal day, but since we’ve been travelling for two days straight, I’m extra exhausted.” She shook her head. “Enough of that. Let’s go explore the city!”

And so they joined Aether outside their rooms which, thankfully, were right next to each other. The Traveler, much like always, hadn’t changed his clothing at all. Which, honestly, how did he not smell terrible? Was his clothing enchanted or something? That would certainly explain the unnatural lack of bloodstains, or dirt stains, or other rips, tears, and blemishes that most clothes would have after sustained use (especially with the trouble adventuring brought).

Actually, did Aether even own pyjamas? Hmm. Sharzad wasn’t sure if she should just ask to satisfy her own curiosity. That would be impolite.

Their first stop once they were outside was the Ministry of Civil Affairs, where Sharzad sent off a short letter to her fathers to let them know what inn she was staying at. She trusted them to relay the message to Collei, Cyno, Tighnari, and Faruzan so their letters would also reach the correct location.

Afterwards, they wandered through Feiyun Slope, the merchant district that was home to multi-storied buildings with bridges and walkways criss-crossing the streets high above ground level. Sharzad made note of the streets, shops, and alleyways that didn’t exist in the game she once played. Liyue Harbor, like everything else, was much bigger than what Genshin Impact made it seem.

Which was probably why it took so long for her to receive the little notification that spelled her doom.

Skill Godsense , activated. Divine presence detected.

Shit.

On instinct, she looked up, just in case Zhongli had already summoned a meteorite. Maybe he’d hear the call and just go nope before petrifying her ass. Maybe he’d feel similar to Xiao and interpret her mere existence as a threat to Liyue. Unless she spoke to Morax first, she was definitely going to die soon.

“Don’t panic,” Nabu reassured her. “We’ll go find him.”

“Make it quick, or else I’m dead, Nabu.”

The goddess rolled her eyes fondly (if that was fond and not patronizing) before grabbing her husband’s wrist and dragging him down the street. They vanished somewhere within the crowd of Liyueans and foreign merchants and visitors.

“What’s going on?” Paimon asked. “Why are you so tense?”

“Morax is close.”

Aether snapped to attention, eyes wide. “What?”

“The Lord of Geo is somewhere nearby,” Sharzad whispered.

“Where?”

Sharzad floundered for an excuse. Nabu Malikata and Deshret needed time to talk to Morax before they could meet the Lord of Geo. Otherwise, Sharzad risked dying a very premature death and, honestly, she’d rather wait a bit before dying. She didn’t even have a will!

So, she shrugged. “Somewhere nearby? The whole sensing thing doesn’t tell me where gods are, only that they’re nearby. Besides, he’s probably undercover and he’d probably . . . well, probably kill me on sight.”

Paimon blinked. “Wait, why? We haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I exist, and that might honestly be enough. Remember how Dvalin was gunning for me the first time we met, Helios?”

He hummed in response. Sharzad sent a look in the direction where Nabu and Deshret vanished, silently praying that they would succeed at convincing Zhongli to make a contract with her.

~~~

“. . . quite an interesting performance, but I think you would have enjoyed it, Childe. Perhaps next time, you can accompany me to the opera. It would be a chance for you to experience more of Liyue’s culture, especially since you have not seen much of the arts.”

Childe smiled crookedly, scratching the back of his head. “Oh, well, I don’t know if I could really appreciate the arts—I’m more of a fighting person, y’know?”

This was not the first time they had this conversation. Zhongli had attempted to invite Childe to anything besides meals or walks where Childe bought him whatever he fancied, but the Fatuus always denied trips to the opera or musical performances, preferring the occasional foray into Liyue’s wilderness and demands to spar rather than trips of a more romantic nature. Although Zhongli’s more draconic side certainly appreciated the emphasis on strength and combat, he was quite sure humans preferred to relax in the company of a lover rather than fight to the death.

Hmm, perhaps Childe was simply playing hard to get. From what Zhongli knew, it was tradition in Snezhnaya for women to ignore the first few attempts at courting to test the honesty of the men courting them. Perhaps that was all Childe had been doing in the six or so months they’d known each other, no matter the interest Zhongli had shown.

“This opera is about a master of martial arts and combat,” Zhongli offered. “I am quite certain you would–” he broke off into a fit of coughing at the sudden feeling of something in his periphery calling him away.

He’d sensed it a few months prior, this strange pull at his very soul. An almost melodious, yet insistent, tugging in the back of his mind. It felt alien to him, unlike any prayer the people of Liyue offered to him daily. This was a direct call to him, a direct message—there was a contract to be signed.

And yet, somehow, there was something even more foreign about this sensation. The call almost sparked with a foreign energy similar to how his Gnosis felt. Foreign in the way things from beyond Teyvat’s skies felt.

A Descender—or at least, the remains of one given how faintly that particular energy shone—had entered his city once again. An entity demanding a contract with him.

“Um, Zhongli -xiansheng?” Childe reached over the table and gave his forearm a light tap. “Are you okay?”

He coughed once more into his fist, before straightening his posture and doing his best to ignore that persistent tug. “Yes. But I am sorry, Childe, we will have to cut this meeting short. There is something important I must attend to.”

The Fatuus’ dull blue eyes widened. Zhongli understood why this came as a surprise—he was rarely one to cancel their meetings, or leave early, for that matter. But there was something here in Liyue, something that had stopped for barely a few hours the last time he’d noticed it, and he had to catch it this time. Had to find this being, whatever it was, to see whether it posed a threat to Liyue and ask what this demand for a contract was about.

He would have to be quick about it, too. The plan to fake his death, once set in motion in a week’s time, required careful attention from all its participants. That included Morax, who would have to dedicate his energy to preparing an adequate Rite of Parting for himself and then meet with one of the Fatui Harbingers to hand over his Gnosis.

After standing, Zhongli cast a forlorn glance at his bowl of black-perch stew, already regretting the waste of such a well-prepared meal. Still, the tug continued, and that meant–

He froze, mouth half-open in what was supposed to be a goodbye to Childe, at the sight of two figures standing on the other side of the busy street. Just the figures alone would have killed him, had his body not been impervious to heart attacks.

Time seemed to stall as Morax (because he had only ever been Morax to these two) took in the sight of distinctively Sumerian attire, of a white-haired god wearing black and gold with his blue-clad queen by his side. Flowers adorned the horns sprouting from the queen’s head, while her husband’s black helmet gleamed in the sunlight, its single golden eye seemingly piercing through Morax’s very soul.

He had not seen either in centuries, yet there they were, people so familiar to him—yet so very dead— that he must have developed some sort of Erosion. He must be hallucinating them, broken memories of past friendships lost a thousand years earlier.

Was he truly going to succumb to Erosion so soon? To confuse past and present so terribly that the only way out would be death? Would he truly perish so close to his own retirement? When he had finally begun choosing himself for a change? When he had finally opened his heart to the idea of Childe?

Perhaps my death will not be so false after all.

The two figures shared a look, before crossing the street without a care for the passers-by walking through them. Morax watched, stricken with fear, as they approached. Nabu Malikata’s brown eyes were just as friendly as he remembered, while Amun’s gold and blue ones remained sharp and calculating. Imperious.

Even after centuries of fading memories, it seemed Morax’s mind could still conjure them perfectly.

“. . . Zhongli!”

Childe’s panicked voice jolted him from the ghosts of his past. Suddenly hyper aware of the ginger-haired man’s frantic shaking of his shoulders (when had he gotten up?), Zhongli did his best to calm his racing heart, to draw his mind away from the fear of Erosion to the present moment.

“Rest assured, I am alright,” he said, giving Childe a comforting pat on the shoulder in the process.

The Harbinger evidently disagreed. “You got so pale out of nowhere—I would’ve thought you were staring death in the face!”

Well, not Death. Zhongli had never met Ronova.

But perhaps Erosion would bring him to her soon enough, wouldn’t it? The death of his mind would force all of Liyue to bring him down, lest Zhongli end himself first. It would certainly be an honorable death, to sacrifice himself for the good of the nation he helped to build–

“Morax, I would advise you against plotting anything rash.”

His neck cracked audibly as he turned to stare at Amun’s ghost. Amun’s ghost, who stared at him, arms crossed and expression altogether far too audacious for someone nearly a foot shorter than Morax was.

The god-king scoffed. “Don’t look so shocked, now. You have the same plotting face you always did—and you didn’t even bother changing your face this time.”

It was Amun’s ghost, whose energy Morax could feel on a deeper level than any hallucination, the same with Nabu’s. Meaning this wasn’t Erosion. This was real. They were here.

What was this sudden relief he felt? This sudden, overbearing joy that his friends had returned, however temporarily? A joy that he might have the chance to share a true, final goodbye with them rather than hearing of their deaths through messages that Sumeru’s desert—that the Sands of Al-Ahmar—had fallen to ruin after its rulers’ tragic and untimely demise.

“I am alright, Childe,” Zhongli repeated after another rough shake to his shoulder. “I will see you tomorrow.”

He turned away and began walking down the street, fighting against his instincts to just speak with the two gods at his side.

“We cannot go far,” Nabu told him softly. “Is there somewhere in the harbor where we may speak freely?”

Nodding (to anyone else, it would have looked like he was nodding to himself), Morax led Nabu Malikata and Amun to the funeral parlor. He didn’t stop until his office’s door was locked shut.

“Thank you, Morax.” Nabu’s smile was just as warm as he remembered. Approaching him, she carefully took in his appearance, reaching out to brush ghostly fingers over his jacket. “This is truly a beautiful piece of craftsmanship.”

“It’s Menogias’ work—one of the Guardian Yakshas.”

A life lost too soon, much like the rest of his compatriots. The sight of his and Bonanus’ bodies, speared through by each others’ weapons, had haunted Morax’s nightmares for the following century. And even now, Morax refused to forget any of the yaksha—nor any of the others who assisted him during and after the Archon War.

Nabu hummed, eyes widening with recognition. “Like that boy at Wangshu Inn. Xiao, wasn’t it? I don’t remember meeting him.”

“A former master of his harmed him to a serious degree during his youth. As I recall, his energy had barely stabilized when the Archon War ended, and your last visit was soon after . . .” he shook his head, offering the two a smile. “But it is not the time for such sorrowful tales. I am glad to see you both, old friends.”

The strange call from earlier, which had been persistently pulling him this entire time, momentarily grew stronger. Morax winced at the feeling, barely resisting the urge to clutch at his head as a migraine threatened to cleave his skull in two.

“Ah.” Amun said monotonously. “It’s happening.”

A slap echoed through the room. Ah, Nabu had summoned a large fern and whacked her husband over the head with it—she truly hadn’t changed. “Have some sympathy, Amun! Having a physical body must make it so much more painful to endure, especially for a god of contracts!”

Morax stared at them both, realization dawning on him. “You are familiar with this.”

Amun crossed his arms. “Unfortunately. That sensation you are currently feeling comes from my heir, and you will be unable to silence it unless you make a pact with her.”

Heir?

“Since when do you have an heir, Amun? You did not have any children, as far as I know.”

These two had never wanted children. The concerns of the Archon War had always been too great, and from what he remembered, Nabu’s status as one of the Seelie meant that any offspring they could have might instantly be annihilated by the Heavenly Principles. They never wanted to risk harming their children.

“And after what I have endured with this one, I am quite thankful for that.” Smiling fondly now, Amun chuckled softly. “She is quite the trouble, our little mortal.”

Morax nodded slowly in understanding. “Ah, so you have adopted a human.” It must not be too different from his relationship with Xiao or the other Yaksha. “I was unaware they could see you.”

“They cannot,” Nabu agreed. “This one is different. She is a contractee. We are her benefactors, if you will. But she is the source of the call you feel, as it is woven into her bones.”

Morax waited to see if they would offer up any other information. He was not disappointed.

“We have come to ask you for a contract on her behalf.”

Oh? Had this human sent the pair on her behalf? Even if Morax knew little about how Amun ran his kingdom, he knew that the sand deity wasn’t the kind to be ordered around by mortals, no matter their closeness to him. Did that mean the two gods came on their own? Had Nabu dragged her stubborn husband over like she tended to do?

“Why is she not here herself?”

“Various reasons,” Nabu told him. “But she will meet with you soon.”

Huffing, Amun rolled his eyes. “Yes. As soon as she is certain you will not, and I quote ‘crush her to death with a meteorite.’”

Morax raised an eyebrow. Meteorite? What had given the human that particular impression? “Ah, did you tell her about our duels?”

“No, not in detail. She is simply under the impression that her mere presence constitutes a danger to your nation.” Instead of looking at him, Amun curiously inspected the shelf of knicknacks displayed in the office. Most of the pieces had been collected over millennia, taken from his abode to be displayed rather than collecting dust. “And although I told her you would be willing to negotiate, she seems quite certain you would annihilate her on sight.”

Morax did not admit how that had been his initial thought the first time he sensed this mortal’s presence (between the strange call for a contract and the faint aura of a Descender, the situation had been too dangerous for his liking). It had only been the immediate danger to his harbour and its residents that prevented him from doing so the first time.

“Since you vouch for her, I am more than willing to negotiate a contract with . . . ah, you did not tell me her name.”

“It is Sharzad.”

“Sharzad. That is a personal name.” Morax frowned. “Has she not chosen her formal names yet? Or have you simply neglected to give her one, Amun?”

“She is not aware that she will require one. I have considered a few for her, of course—Maatkare, Neferure, Seshat—but we have not yet discussed such formalities given how recently she accepted her title.” Turning from the shelf of knicknacks, Amun narrowed his eyes at Morax. “It took two years to get her to accept that title. You’d better not fuck this up for me, Morax.”

Notes:

Hi everyone! A slightly earlier chapter this week because I'm going to be busy all day with a fundraiser, so here are the notes!

1) Liyue canonically has trade checkpoints run by the Millelith, but I figured that since the Rite of Descension is such a big deal, they'd probably increase security measures to make sure Rex Lapis isn't in danger

2) Most of the named locations in Liyue Harbor are canonical, although I'll start adding in my own soon to make everything seem a little more alive. Liyue Harbor is definitely bigger than our game version, much like Sumeru City and the City of Mondstadt

3) Childe and Zhongli interacting, wooo! We'll see a lot more of them (and their POVs) in the future, as I'm sure you know from the tags

4) Erosion is a phenomenon that appears in some lore but also in Zhongli's second SQ, since Azhdaha succumbed to it. It's also implied to be part of why Zhongli stepped down from the role of Archon

5) The name thing at the end is a fun little detail that will come back! Since Ancient Egyptian Pharaohs had 5 names total (a Horus name, Nebty name, Horus of Gold, throne name, and personal name), I decided to do something similar, though on a smaller scale, with Deshret and Sharzad. Amun is Deshret's personal name, with "Deshret" being his more formal throne name and Al-Ahmar serving a similar purpose. With Sharzad, she will eventually have a throne name, too (but I haven't decided what it is yet).

Maatkare was Hatshepsut's throne name, Neferure means "beauty of Ra" (although in this context, it's more "beauty of the sun" since Ra also means sun in Middle Egyptian), and Seshat is a deity of wisdom and knowledge often depicted as a scribe who is related to several disciplines (including sciences, architecture, astronomy, astrology, and mathematics).

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated :)

Chapter 3: Chapter II: Rite of Descension

QUEST

Rite of Descension

Attend the Rite of Descension

When Nabu told her that they’d secured a deal (and a way for Sharzad to speak to Zhongli uninterrupted), she choked on her mouthful of shrimp.

Paimon, naturally, panicked. “Sharzad, are you okay?! Oh, please don’t die right now!”

The fear made sense, seeing as Paimon couldn’t see the deities bound to Sharzad’s soul, and nothing out of the ordinary transpired near them or the food stall where they’d bought dinner.

Making a fist, Sharzad hit her chest a few times, coughing all the while. “I’m fine,” she rasped before picking up her water and taking a large gulp. She then turned to Nabu and Deshret, both of whom were laughing at her.

Well, Deshret wasn’t laughing, laughing, but rather letting out a few dignified chuckles. That still constituted laughing for him, though, so Sharzad felt justified when she glowered at him.

“Stop laughing.”

Deshret raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I simply find it amusing that your faith in Nabu and me was so weak.”

She huffed. “You being a god doesn’t force me to have faith in you.”

“No, but I had expected our shared history to cultivate some trust between us.”

Laughter fading, Nabu patted her husband’s arm. “In her defense, we were speaking with Morax. Though he may be your friend, Amun, he is stubborn as stone most of the time.” She poked his shoulder. “Take off this armor, will you? I’m feeling sleepy.”

“We are ghosts, my lily. We do not sleep.”

Nabu widened her eyes dramatically, their brown depths seemingly gleaming with tears. Those puppy-dog eyes were terrifyingly effective against Deshret, and Sharzad had seen them absolutely obliterate the sand god’s resolve several times since she made her deals two years earlier.

A few seconds later, Deshret sighed and substituted his royal armour for a kilt similar to what Cyno usually wore. His muscled arms were bare, though, which Nabu took full advantage of by fully draping herself across them. Adorably, Deshret immediately picked his wife in a bridal carry, resting her head against his forearm.

The Goddess of Flowers smiled, wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck. Leaning upwards, she kissed Deshret on the lips. “Thank you, my sun.”

Sharzad gagged. “Eugh. Sometimes, you two are so adorable that I’m afraid my teeth might rot.”

“Oooh, did they kiss?” Aether asked with a teasing smile.

“Yes. They also neglected to show up and tell me that I’ve got a deal to make.”

Paimon fumbled with her food. “They spoke to Rex Lapis?! What did he say?”

“He will meet with you after he fakes his death,” Nabu said, turning her head to look at Sharzad. The movement almost caused her horns to whack Deshret in the face. “He might trust the two of us, but he wants you to prove yourself, Sharzad. If you interfere with the Rite of Descension, the deal is off.”

Instead of relaying this information to Aether and Paimon, Sharzad groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately not. He seemed quite insistent about the Rite going off without a hitch. But afterwards, he would be willing to meet you, provided you are willing to help him organize his own funeral.”

Given Deshret’s facial expression, he clearly thought this was as absurd as Sharzad thought it was. At least (if she remembered correctly) she would have been doing that gathering stuff anyway, so it wasn’t much of a deviation from her plans. Now, Aether and Paimon would simply have a friend to assist with the Rite of Passing bullshit.

Sharzad swallowed her mouthful of food. “I hope you said yes.”

“You truly think we would deny you this opportunity?”

“Course not. You’re too nice for that.”

Deshret’s lips curled in distaste. “I can guarantee you—I am not nice.”

He certainly hadn’t been for the first two years, given his former penchant for insulting Sharzad every time she breathed. But ever since they’d broken through her . . . distaste for Deshret’s throne and Deshret started respecting her a little more, he’d been a little more kind and a little less rough around the edges.

They could certainly get along now, at minimum.

Sharzad smirked at him. “Sure thing, grandpa.”

The outraged gasp Deshret let out was lost to the sound of Nabu laughing so hard she fell from her husband’s arms.

~~~

Yujing Terrace was absolutely packed with spectators. The crowd gathered mostly around the central altar—a massive stone slab absolutely loaded with offerings like fragrant perfumes, traditional Liyuean dishes, and plants of all kinds. Sharzad briefly considered standing on one of the rooftops so she could actually see what was going on, before settling on hovering at the back of the crowd instead.

This was, of course, after she and the others stopped to make a wish at one of the censers scattered around the perimeter of the large stone terrace first. A Snezhnayan merchant standing by one of the censers recognized them as outlanders and then provided them with several minutes’ worth of exposition about Rex Lapis and the Adepti. This was part of the reason they settled at the edge of the crowd, where they had been standing for the past few minutes.

Nabu sighed, smiling wistfully at the gathered crowd. Many of the attendees whispered among themselves about Rex Lapis’ predictions for the year, discussing hopes for good fortune, for good harvest and good pay. “Sometimes, it is difficult to remember the strength of our worshippers’ faith. I hope Morax appreciates it as much as I once did.”

“People still worship you, Nabu,” Sharzad commented.

It was a testament to her friendship with Aether and Paimon that neither interrupted her or looked at her weirdly. All she received was a glance from Aether, before he tapped Paimon’s arm and pointed at something in the mountain overlooking Liyue Harbour to give Sharzad a tiny bit more privacy.

“Not at the scale they used to, especially before the Archon War. Even in its earlier days, it was much easier to harness the elemental powers of this world. In places like the Great Red Sand, where elemental energy overflowed from the Celestial Nail’s impact, it was especially easy. My priests and priestesses would dedicate their lives to understanding the energies and harnessing the powers of Dendro and Hydro in order to create and maintain magnificent gardens and oases in my temples. Amun’s sages, too, harnessed elemental power, as did some of his soldiers.” Looking defeated, Nabu sighed again. “Nowadays, the spirits of our deceased devotees are used by Eremites seeking power.”

“And Cyno, right? Since Hermanubis was one of Deshret’s sages.”

“His is but a fragment, but yes. At least with Hermanubis, the transfer of Ba fragments is somewhat consensual, and that general does not desire power.” Given how Deshret grimaced, whatever he was going to say next would probably be horrifying. “For the rest of our followers, whatever remains of their souls and power was left undisturbed so long that they either faded away or became mindless elemental beasts. The latter are now called Spirits of Omen, and they are enslaved by Eremites seeking new strength.” He sighed. “There are very few Eremite groups that condone such practices for fear of angering desert spirits or triggering ancient curses. Thus, the Spirits of Omen are typically enslaved by the most vicious, power-hungry humans. It is a cruel existence.”

Sharzad swallowed. “So the half-robotic animals with Eremites . . . ?” she drifted off, unsure how to put it into words.

Deshret did it for her. “Are the fragmented souls of our most devoted followers, warped beyond human imagination into half-divine monsters.”

There were definitely tears in Nabu’s eyes, and Deshret looked sadder than she’d ever seen him, eyes downcast and sparkling with grief for his people, for his followers—his friends, even. Sharzad couldn’t even begin to picture such a half-life, being warped into a mindless beast and then, to rub salt in the wound, being enslaved by a maniac seeking power.

It wasn’t just horrifying. It was downright barbaric.

“Would . . . would there be any way to free them?”

“To end their misery by taking their lives,” Nabu whispered. “There is no way to sanctify their spirits now—they are too far gone.”

Sharzad opened and closed her mouth for a few seconds, before sighing. Her throat tightened. “I—for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. It’s tragic for them, of course, but they were your devotees, people you knew.” Wincing at the tremble in her voice, she crossed her arms over her chest. “To see them suffer for a thousand years . . .”

“Suffer for a thousand years? What are you even talking about?!” Ah, so Paimon had started to pay attention to what she was saying. “Oh no, you’re crying!”

“Am I?” Reaching for her eyes, Sharzad discovered that, yes, tears had coalesced at the corners of her eyes and were threatening to fall. “Oh. Um, well–” she stuttered a laugh. “–I wouldn’t call it nothing, but it’s something they’ve never told me, and I–I . . . it’s just really depressing–”

The crowd grew quiet as she was speaking, signalling the start of the Rite of Descension. Wiping her tears with her sleeve, Sharzad watched as something on the other side of the crowd summoned golden Geo energy. It merged with the censer at the centre of the stone altar, immediately sending a beam of energy skyward.

Stormclouds materialized, creating a spiral of clouds that gradually darkened from a light gray to a stormy, dangerous black. All the while, music—which Sharzad had almost forgotten about since it had been so long since she lived through a cutscene—played, first triumphant and major before transitioning to an ominous minor key as a chocolate-coloured dragon with a golden mane plummeted from the sky.

The impact of the Exuvia crashing into the altar sent a cloud of dust billowing outwards and caused the crowd to step several feet back. This gave the three outlanders a perfect view as Ningguang—that was her, with the white hair and golden clothing—stepped towards the false corpse and, after a moment, raised her head.

“Rex Lapis has been killed!” She exclaimed, voice clearly resonating over the deadly silent terrace. Even the music had stopped. “Seal the exits!”

A short burst of music followed as dozens of Millelith soldiers raced into the area, standing guard at balconies, pathways, and even around the dragon in groups of two and three. Others began approaching people at random, mostly those who had been closest to the altar.

Paimon, as the most talkative among them, immediately turned to stare at them both. “What’s going on?! Did she just . . . she said that . . . the Geo Archon is dead?! And what was that music just now? You heard it too, right? Oooh, Paimon’s freaking out!”

Paimon heard the music? Does that mean the cutscenes affect others?

“I heard the music,” Aether agreed. He can hear the music too?! “But the Archon . . .” he turned to look at Sharzad. “Is that really him?”

Sharzad scoffed. “Pshh, what makes you ask that?”

She earned an unimpressed eyebrow raise for her troubles. “You’re a shit liar.”

“Fantastic compliment. And there’s an agent coming our way.”

Indeed, there was. The soldier wore a stern expression, marching forward with his polearm already in hand.

“You three, give me your names, titles, and reasons for being here. Now!”

At least this request was one Sharzad could easily fulfill. “I’m Sharzad Athari Taftazani, Dastur of the Vahumana at the Sumeru Akademiya and member of the Adventurers’ Guild.” She chose the two titles that seemed a) plausible and b) were easy to verify. “This is Helios, also a Guild member, and our travelling companion Paimon. We were here for the Rite, and to ask Rex Lapis a few questions if he had time.”

“What kinds of questions?”

“She’s an archaeologist,” Paimon said excitedly. “And Helios here is looking for his missing sister. Of course, Helios is more important but Sharzad’s always looking for new sites to explore!”

“Excavate,” Sharzad corrected.

The soldier eyed her warily. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen. Which is part of why I have this guy with me.” She poked Aether’s arm. “You know, to fend off unwanted creeps or monsters that get in my way—I might be decent with a sword but at the end of the day, I’m still a feeble scholar.”

~~~

They were let off without a hitch.

The Millelith soldier asked a few more questions about their travels and what they were doing in Liyue. He made a note of where they were staying, their names, and then brought them to one of the exits, where they could simply walk free.

The feeble scholar line works magic. I’m going to have to thank Papa for that one.

Once they left Yujing Terrace and entered the harbor itself, Aether grabbed her wrist and dragged her into an alleyway. She struggled to catch up, finally breaking into a short sprint in order to keep from falling over. A few rats skittered past as they ran down, pursued by a cat searching for its next meal.

She stumbled to a stop, rubbing her wrist. “What—what are you doing?”

“Rex Lapis.” Aether turned to make eye contact with her. “Is he dead?”

The intensity in his gaze left her no room for lying. Sharzad stepped back against the grimy alley wall, sensing that Aether already knew the answer to his question.

“I–I don’t know if I’m allowed to answer that.”

“So he’s not dead.”

“I–” she ran a hand through her hair. “Again, I can’t answer that.”

Aether’s eyes widened. He took a step closer to her. “Sharzad, please, this is important. My sister–”

“Incoming!” Deshret hissed. “Something reeks of the Abyss!”

What?!

Movement at the corner of her eye drew her attention immediately. A feeling of wrongness, though mercifully not as powerful as Dvalin’s tears, filled the alleyway. Bile rose in her throat as her muscles instinctively tensed, coiled to spring and attack whatever had arrived. Her heartbeat increased to the point she could hear her blood pumping. It was like her body decided to yell INTRUDER ALERT at her before immediately activating all emergency protocols.

Sharzad forced herself to remain calm, half-praying for her horns to stay hidden and any potentially new divine traits to wait before revealing themselves. This wasn’t the time to start manifesting eldritch traits, no matter how much her body wanted her to.

A glimpse of ginger hair and a scarlet scarf told her everything she needed to know about the newcomer. “Woah there, buddy. No need to threaten an innocent kid, is there?”

She internally seethed. Kid?! This bullshit again? From this guy? Didn’t he join the Fatui at fourteen or something?

“I’m not threatening her,” Aether said, taking a step back in the process.

Childe took a few steps forward. “Sure looks like it. So how about you back off the kid and scram–”

“He’s my friend,” Sharzad snapped, her unease turning to annoyance as she spoke. “Wasn’t threatening me.”

“Really?” How was it possible for someone as battle-hardened and experienced as the Harbinger Tartaglia to just . . . blink in bemusement? “It looked like it, kid.”

“I’m sixteen. Hardly a kid.”

“Since you’re six years younger than me, I think it qualifies.”

So he was only twenty-two. Interesting . . . Kaveh seemed a lot more mature than Childe when he was that age, although maybe it was because Sharzad had been ten, terrified of her new existence, and not filled with the hormones of her second run through puberty. Her perceptions of both men were probably warped to some extent by her experiences at the time. Or maybe it was the age difference.

“All of you adults are the same,” she grumbled. “Specifically in that age range.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? Didn’t your parents teach you to respect your elders?”

Deshret barked out a laugh so loud that Sharzad worried the others heard it.

“I respect my elders, but only when they deserve it.” Peeling herself off the wall, she hummed. “Although I guess trying to save a damsel in distress is certainly a good point for you. Whether that puts you in the positives . . . which Harbinger do you work for, Fatuus?”

“He’s Fatui?!” Paimon shrieked. Aether grabbed her ankle and went to clap his hand over her mouth, probably in the hopes of not pissing off Childe.

“Haha, you’re good.” Childe smiled at Sharzad, simultaneously seeming like he was doting on a child and assessing a potential threat. “What gave me away?”

She eyed the man’s attire—the silvers and grays she remembered from the game, the red accents, the patch of exposed skin directly above his Snezhnayan Vision–and then his face, a picture of one in their early twenties, save his dull blue eyes. A smattering of freckles graced his face, along with tiny smatterings—acne scars considerably more innocent-looking than the larger slashes she could see on his neck.

Now, she couldn’t admit where she knew him from originally, but she could certainly invoke information about his attire rather than seeming too mysterious.

“The Snezhnayan Vision frame,” she decided after a moment. “And how several elements of your attire are clearly standard-issue Fatui gear.” She didn’t mention the mask in his hair, or the Abyssal energy clinging to his entire body.

Nabu stepped into her field of vision, showing off how she’d manifested horns, several pairs of dark-feathered wings, and dozens of eyes on her limbs at just the whiff of energy coming from Childe. Sharzad contemplated knocking herself out to stop picturing how horrifying seeing that many eyes was.

There was even a pair on her hands! Her hands! Eyes bulging out of her skin like warts that decided it was time to develop photoreceptors and see the world for themselves.

“Nope,” she mumbled to herself.

“What’s going on?” Childe put his hand over his heart, looking surprisingly concerned for her well-being. “I know the Fatui get a bad rep, but I’m not one of the truly evil ones, promise. Most I’ll do is fight you, if you’re looking for a challenge. Call me Childe.”

“Childe?” Paimon frowned. “But you were just saying you’re an adult!”

“No. Childe. Means ‘young nobleman.’”

“Oooooooh,” Sharzad said. “A nobleman. So you’re a Harbinger, then. Good. I don’t have to stab you yet.”

Even Aether’s eyes widened at this bit, and Sharzad was pretty sure that the threat to stab wasn’t the issue here. That couldn’t possibly have surprised him after their trek over, or the reveal that Childe was a Fatuus. Meaning it was the Harbinger thing that took him aback.

Childe blinked at her. “Stab me? Well, this is getting interesting.”

“Considering how one of your colleagues tortured my friend to the point where she can barely hug people anymore, I think I’m justified.”

The Harbinger’s face froze, realization clearly dawning on him. “Ah, Dottore got to her. I’d apologize on his behalf but, unfortunately, your friend is not the only one who has found themselves at the receiving end of one of his scalpels.” I hate that monster as much as you do, was left unsaid.

Oh. So Childe was another of Dottore’s victims. How wonderful—another excuse to stab the man. It was one of the things she and Collei had discussed. Or, rather, it was one of the first things Sharzad declared when her friend recounted (vaguely, of course) what she had been through. The scars on Collei’s body—what little of her skin Sharzad had seen when they swam in the rivers together—were gruesome things that would probably require decades to fade away. Dottore caused them, and Sharzad immediately wanted to pay him back in kind.

Besides, even before reincarnating in Teyvat, she still wanted to stab Dottore. Psychopaths like him didn’t deserve to live without a little stabbing, and between what he’d done to Collei, Wanderer, several children of the House of the Hearth, the people at some hospital in Sumeru, people in Inazuma, people in Snezhnaya . . . yeah, no. It was a stab on sight kind of deal.

And Sharzad had knives now. Lots of them. She deserved to get a little stabby sometimes, as a treat.

What am I even thinking?!

“Um, Paimon’s confused. Who’s Dodo-ray? Besides being someone Sharzad wants to stab?”

“One of my fellow Harbingers,” Childe said. “I’m number Eleven, but he’s number Two, also known as The Doctor.”

Doctor Who?

Sharzad would have burst into giggles at the thought had Aether not been staring at her. Given his narrowed eyes and crossed arms, he had recovered from the Harbinger reveal and began judging her deeply for the whole stabbing thing.

She eyed him right back. “Before you ask: trust me, Helios, he deserves it.”

The look she received clearly meant ‘does he?’  Thankfully, he didn’t ask her to elaborate further. She wasn’t entirely sure how she could even do so without revealing where she came from or spilling some of Collei’s very personal secrets.

Meanwhile, Childe watched her curiously, giving off the energy of someone who wanted a fight. With her specifically. Probably a no-holds-barred fight, with his Delusion and Foul Legacy added on for extra bloodshed.

Oh gods no. I’m not ready for that.

“You’re not an Eremite, are you?” he asked in interest. “I’ve rarely met a Sumerian with such . . . bloody tendencies.”

She shook her head. “I’m a scholar, actually. I was only born in the desert.”

And I’m its future ruler, but we’re not talking about that.

“Oh? Are you here for the Rite of Descension, then?”

“Well, we were. ” She shrugged, trying to look as natural as possible. “And I’m also meant to be meeting an old friend of my mentor’s.”

“What a lie,” Deshret commented. His voice sounded strangely warped, as if each syllable carried the risk of transforming into a hawk’s shriek.

A glance sideways betrayed how his fingers had sharpened into pointed talons and his eyes had changed to those of a falcon’s (which still retained their colouring). Obstructing most of the space behind him was a pair of large, feathery wings sprouting from his back, their pale plumage matched by the feathers sprouting from several places on Deshret’s body, including his arms and shoulders.

Chicken god. My predecessor as ruler of Sumeru’s desert is a chicken god.

As if sensing her thoughts, Deshret turned to glare at her. Sharzad did her best not to glare back—Childe was still watching her, after all.

“A friend of a Sumerian scholar,” he mused. “I’ve never met someone like that here.”

“Your first mistake is assuming that my mentor is a scholar.” She paused. “Well, technically he’s a scholar, but he didn’t study at the Akademiya.”

“Because it didn’t exist yet. Obviously.”

Yeah, obviously. But Childe didn’t know that.

~~~

Childe could clearly remember the day Signora lost her arm. Now, this wasn’t because he cared about that psychopathic woman. Rather, it was the day he received a particularly interesting bonus mission (one that satisfied his ever-present need for a good fight).

Since he had been in Liyue for around nine months or so, Childe returned to Snezhnaya for a report to Tsaritsa and, unfortunately, a medical check-up with Dottore to ensure that his Abyssal energy hadn’t risen to dangerous levels.

The throne room in Zapolyarny Palace always seemed to freeze his bones, no matter how used he was to the frigid Snezhnayan weather. His Harbinger cloak and wool-line attire kept him mercifully warm, but put him in painful contrast with the Tsaritsa. From her elevated throne, she gazed down at him, her dress glimmering with delicate shards of ice. Her black hair was tied in an elegant knot at the base of her neck, fully revealing her cold eyes and the tiara sparkling on her head. Opera gloves created the illusion of femininity and frailty, yet Childe knew that, if she wanted, his queen could turn his blood to ice with scarcely a blink.

She stared down at him from atop her throne, scrutinizing every word of his report.

For his part, Childe put up his Tartaglia facade, keeping his back straight and expression neutral. “. . . I have personally taken care of several of these debts, since some of the Liyuean folk can be quite slippery. But rest assured, Your Majesty, they are being taken care of.”

“Do not spend too much of your time dealing with trivial pursuits, my Eleventh. As much as I know you adore battle, you have tasks of greater importance–”

The doors to the throne room burst open, letting in a burst of scorching air. Such a strange phenomenon for the inner sections of Zapolyarny (let alone the entirety of Snezhnaya) caused Tartaglia to summon his Hydro blades in an instant. He was the Tsaritsa’s Vanguard—if she was attacked, he was the first line of defense.

Oh, wait–

He lowered his weapons at the sight of a red, white, and red dress and pale blonde hair. It was Signora of all people which—wasn’t she supposed to be in Mondstadt for an assignment?

Tartaglia eyed the advancing Harbinger carefully, considering whether to climb the steps to stand on the top of the dais, next to his queen. As she approached, he noticed something glowing teal in her right fist and, strangely, her gait was unbalanced, as if she was–

His eyes widened. Wait. She’s missing an arm.

Indeed, her left arm had vanished, replaced by flesh still coloured pink. She’d seen a healer, clearly, but it had been a recent occurrence. The arm loss had been a recent occurrence. Perhaps she rushed to Snezhnaya as soon as she stopped bleeding out.

“Signora.”

The woman fell to one knee in supplication. “Your Majesty. There was a complication in Mondstadt. More than we were expecting.”

“Clearly,” Childe said before he could stop himself. “Did Barbatos bring an axe or something?”

Whatever made that wound, he wanted to fight it. He’d barely sparred with any of the higher ranked Harbingers, save Scaramouche, and that was only because Scaramouche was actually willing to raise a weapon and fight. Was it too much to ask to fight something on his level? How was he expected to fight someone like Rex Lapis if he could blow through spars with a dozen Fatui soldiers within minutes?! Maybe whatever hurt Signora would be down for a rematch. If it wasn’t already dead.

He could feel the Tsaritsa’s gaze on his back. “Tartaglia, behave yourself.”

Face heating— why did you say that, stupid?— Childe took a step back, barely stopping himself from bowing his head in shame. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Now, Signora. What caused this? You are my Eighth.” Ah, the weight of their queen’s expectations. How lovely. “Whatever harmed you must have been quite powerful.”

Tartaglia watched Signora’s face carefully, noting her lips curling in displeasure at the memory of whatever harmed her. “A demon, or some Abyssal creature. I did not get a good glimpse of it besides its curled horns and pink-coloured energy—it was hiding in the shadows for most of the encounter.”

“Is it still alive?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Though my blood may be flame, Your Majesty, I still risked losing most of my energy.” Signora walked forward, holding out the teal object—a Gnosis, Tartaglia realised—to the Tsaritsa. “Whatever this creature is, it seems it is working to protect the Archons and their Gnoses. It will no doubt resurface when the time comes to take the next Gnosis.”

The Tsaritsa fell silent for a moment. “Tartaglia!” she called.

He turned to face her. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Return to Liyue at once. I wish for you to continue your mission, but with an added task. Find that demon and, if it cannot be convinced to abandon its mission or join our side, kill it.”

So he was going to fight it after all! It took all his willpower not to jump for joy at the news. Finally, a worthy opponent! Their battle would be legendary! Maybe the storytellers in Liyue Harbor would even tell his tale to enraptured audiences (and Zhongli) in the future!

Tartaglia grinned at his queen, taking a short bow. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Notes:

A very diverse chapter this week, filled to the brim with shorter scenes! I was originally going to have Sharzad meet Zhongli here, but I decided against it because it's so much more hilarious to see her and Zhongli try to hide the Morax thing from Aether, Paimon, and Childe!

1) The quest name is the same as the Archon Quest. Since it made no sense to change it or make up a new name, I kept the in-game name. Same for the Rite of Descension scene and setting, which is also directly from the game. The cutscene music Sharzad (and Paimon and Aether) hears is the same from the game, too!

2) Some lore about the Spirits of Omen! Since we don't know much about them, I thought it would be interesting for the Spirits of Omen to be similar manifestations as the Ba fragments talked about in Cyno's Story Quest II. Also, the idea of priests and priestesses studying for years to understand and harness elemental energy is similar to how in the medieval period, certain scholars would dedicate their lives to understanding alchemical and astrological principles so they could perform magic (I'm writing a paper on this right now actually, lol).

3) I hate Dottore. Can you tell? Also, glimpses at more of the gods' divine forms!

4) I took some time to decide how to portray the Tsaritsa since we don't know much about her. Part of me wanted to go with a more pale-haired ice queen, but I'm a sucker for dark hair as contrast to the paleness of snow, so the Tsaritsa I envision has black hair and wears shades of blue, purple, and pink, like her clothes are made from auroras (i.e. Northern/Southern lights).

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and Kudos are appreciated :)

Chapter 4: Chapter II: Well Met, Archaic Lord

QUEST

Well Met, Archaic Lord

Meet the man who calls himself Zhongli by Wangsheng Funeral Parlor

When Sharzad woke up the next morning, a certain notification was staring her in the face. Between the shock of waking up to a bright blue screen three inches from her eyeballs combined with the absurd text written on it, Sharzad felt entirely justified when she lurched back.

Her lips curled in disgust. “Really?! A joke title?!”

Paimon gave a little jump, rolling over in bed so she could blink sleepily at Sharzad. “Wha-?”

“Nothing, Paimon. Go back to sleep.”

Her only answer was a snore, meaning the pixie had fallen asleep before Sharzad could even tell her to.

Ignoring her week-long question of how Paimon could lie down on something (given that, seemingly, her only form of movement was flying), Sharzad dragged herself out of bed. Her joints cracked as she stretched her arms above her head, before folding her body in half to stretch her legs and back.

Fighting back a groan for Paimon’s sake, Sharzad collected her clothes and the small bag of toiletries, before ducking into the bathroom to wash. Nabu and Deshret usually left her in peace and quiet during this part of the day, giving her time to revel in the peace and quiet of her morning routine. The only noises she could hear were her clothes rustling as she pulled them on and the splashing of water as she cleaned her face.

It was a rare kind of silence, and it never lasted long.

Deshret appeared just as she prepared to draw on her kohl. “We need to speak about protocol before you meet with Morax.”

“Thank you for appearing before I put on the makeup.” She readjusted her grip on the thin brush and dipped it in her container of the dark powder. “Couldn’t you talk to me in a dream last night, Deshret?”

“I wanted you to sleep well. Besides, this is not a lengthy lesson, simply a few notes about how you are meant to address him. Especially in his mortal form.”

“By his mortal name, right? He’ll want to stay undercover, I’m sure of it.”

“Indeed. But you must take care not to act too wary of him, either. I know the mysteries of his past disturb you, but you cannot show fear. Nor can you speak to him as you did with Barbatos.” Even if Deshret didn’t have a reflection, she could feel him watching her as she applied the kohl around her eyes. “Morax is, as he puts it, an old friend. I would rather you treat him with respect, no matter how little of it you afford me.”

Had she not been applying makeup, Sharzad would have frowned. “I respect you.”

Deshret snorted. “Certainly not in the manner befitting any Sumerian, though perhaps I should not blame you given your origins. At least you have avoided calling me by my personal name as of late.”

She blinked, turning away from her inspection of her makeup to face Deshret. “Personal name?”

“Much like any deific ruler, I have several names—that much you know, already. But like any of them, I took on a few other names as I began to rule. For me, much like with most of the Archons, addressing me by my personal name, Amun, is considered meeting as close acquaintances or as equals.”

“So those times during the first year–” her face felt like it was on fire. “–oh. Shit.”

Deshret smiled in amusement. “That is not counting the times you have referred to me by more crass terms. Had this been my time, even neglecting to call me ‘Your Majesty’ when addressing me would be enough to constitute disrespect.”

Oooooooh. That was bad, to say the least. Sharzad certainly hadn’t considered how even insults in moments of annoyance could constitute disrespect, although perhaps that was because she reacted to Deshret’s comments (if his former tendency to insult her could be simplified to comments) with the same attitude he gave her. So, yeah, she definitely had been disrespectful.

All the times he called me an insolent mortal make sense now.

She winced. “Yeah, okay . . . sorry, Deshret.”

To her surprise, all he did was reach over and pat her head (not that she could feel it). “I have long gotten used to your brand of address, Sharzad. While shocking at first, your—for lack of a better word—insolence became quite refreshing once I became accustomed to it. I do not mind it anymore.”

It took Sharzad several seconds of blinking to even attempt to process that.

Deshret, for his part, simply eyed her makeup. “Turn around and do the other eye. I have yet to explain how you will address Morax.”

And because she had literally no other way to process anything, she did as he asked.

“Now, you will be polite with him, but I counsel you against deferring to him.” She could hear the amused smile in his voice. “You may not be a deity yourself, but as my successor, you have enough authority to meet him on . . . a more even playing field. I still expect you to be respectful, but you are free to negotiate as you see fit.”

“Yes, me. The mortal with the authority of a god.”

Deshret hummed. “The human with the authority of a queen.”

“That’s terrifying, you know that?” Satisfied with her makeup, Sharzad began adjusting her clothes, ensuring that she hadn’t accidentally tucked her shirt into her pants and that her accessories were arranged in a way that was aesthetically pleasing. “I know you said that my official title is ‘Crown Princess’ two months ago, but I haven’t been addressed that way nearly enough to get used to it.”

The person she saw in the mirror certainly didn’t look like her mental image of a crown princess. Although, perhaps that was because she was missing, you know, a crown.

To satisfy this sudden urge to look more . . . royal, she conjured a flower crown, but the Sumeru roses in her hair seemed too unwieldy for a day look. So she withered them and tried again.

“You will. But perhaps this is a sign that I should follow Morax’s advice and give you your formal name sooner rather than later . . .”

She froze.

Wait wait wait—she would be getting a formal name? Really? Forget introducing herself to Morax with even a semblance of equal standing— this would be the thing that killed her. Juggling different names, or even identities, would be a million times worse than being a queen. Did Deshret mean that she should keep her true identity and rule in anonymity? Or was the formal name thing more of a courtesy—a sign of respect—as he called it minutes earlier?

“I get a formal name?”

“It would be, among other things, safer for you. People will find it difficult to reconcile the Queen of the Great Red Sand with the adventuring scholar from Sumeru.”

“So you have ideas for it, don’t you?” Sharzad sighed, withering another attempt at a crown. “Hey, Nabu, mind helping me?”

The goddess appeared, took one look at her outfit—mostly in shades of yellow and white—and simply said: “Qingxins.”

After conjuring the flowers, Sharzad smiled in satisfaction. “You’re a genius.” Turning away from the mirror, she focused on Deshret. “Now about those names, what were you thinking?”

The Sand King stepped back. “It is not an urgent matter, Sharzad. Especially since you are uncomfortable with the notion.”

“Look, I’m not going to lie and say I’m not: you can sense that I’m uncomfortable with the idea of having more than one name. But I promised you both that I’d be an heir you could be proud of. That includes all the fanfare, protocol, and lessons that make me uncomfortable.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t want you to teach me about a sugar coated version of your kingdom, Deshret. I want the real thing, dark side included.”

~~~

Skill Godsense , activated. Divine presence detected.

Clouds hid the sun from the rest of the world. The looming peak of Mount Tianheng coloured part of the sky a darker shade of gray. From the ocean came a breeze that carried the scent of salt and incoming rain.

And under the copper-tiled awning at the front of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Sharzad found herself the victim of Aether’s judgement.

“A funeral parlor?”

“Trust me.”

“You lied to me yesterday.”

Her face burned. “I . . . it was justified! And it was a lie of omission!”

The double doors to the funeral parlor burst open, and out stepped a girl probably a year or so older than Sharzad. Her clothes were various shades of brown, with pops of reds and golds creating a little more contrast, much like her red eyes did. Rings gleamed on her fingers, and in her hat sat a branch of red plum blossoms.

Hu Tao frowned at the three of them. “Now, why might you be looking for me, hm?” When the trio’s expressions morphed into ones of confusion, she added, “Oh, you didn't know? I'm the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Hu Tao. Though by the looks of you . . .” walking forward, she inspected each of them in turn. “Radiant glow, healthy posture . . . not you, though.” She stopped in front of Sharzad, head tilted and a faraway look in her eyes. “Strange, with the spiritual energy clinging to you, I’d have guessed you were a ghost.”

Well, Sharzad technically died a few years earlier, so technically, she could be classified as some sort of undead (hello new existential crisis, she thought immediately after the former part). Maybe Hu Tao wasn’t as far off as she thought.

“Interesting—she can sense us.”

Hu Tao even shifted her gaze to stare directly at Deshret. “Strange spirits . . . you don’t need an exorcism, do you?”

“No.”

“Really? No strange happenings, sightings, objects moving when you’re not close to them? I know a great exorcist I can get you.”

The doors to the parlor opened again as Hu Tao finished speaking. “Director, I can assure you, she does not require an exorcism. Sharzad has simply had dealings with spirits in the past, as is the case for many archaeologists working with ancient artefacts.”

Sharzad’s first thought at the sight of Morax was the word tall. He had to be about Kaveh’s height, if not a few centimetres taller. Then, her eyes were drawn to the golden scale-like patterns on his brown jacket, and, at his neck, the piece of amber pinning his white tie. From the front, his hair looked deceptively short, though Sharzad knew that if she stepped sideways, she would catch a glimpse of a long ponytail.

But amidst these momentary judgements, the thing she noticed most clearly were the amber eyes that found her almost instantly. The red line beneath Morax’s eyes only accentuated their amber hue. They narrowed almost imperceptibly at the sight of her.

Oh, good, Sharzad thought. He’s judging me already.

“Good morning, Morax,” Nabu greeted, offering the Archon a short nod. “As promised, our mortal.”

Somehow, Hu Tao turned her gaze to Nabu. “Hmm? That’s strange . . .” She swiftly redirected her confusion to Zhongli, though now there was a playful gleam in her eye. “I didn’t know you had friends in Sumeru, Zhongli.”

“I do. Sharzad happens to be the scion of a couple of dear friends of mine. They are quite accomplished scholars. As is she, I am told.”

How in the ever-loving fuck could a gaze hold so much expectation? What did Deshret and Nabu tell Morax for him to look at her like she was about to walk on water or perform some other miracle? He clearly wanted her to do something, but what exactly was beyond her.

Sharzad took a breath to ground herself before stepping forward. “We haven’t met in person, Mister Zhongli. It’s a pleasure.”

“Indeed. And these are—your friends?”

“Oh, right.” Pivoting slightly so she could see the two others, Sharzad gestured at the space between them and Zhongli. “Paimon and Helios, meet Zhongli. He’s the old friend of my mentor’s I mentioned yesterday.”

“When we met Childe?” Aether asked. He had to know Zhongli’s true identity by now.

“Ah, so you have already met him.” Whether Zhongli thought this was a good thing or a bad thing, Sharzad couldn’t tell. “I hope he did not cause you any trouble.”

She shrugged. “We ran into him in an alleyway. He’s surprisingly nice for a Fatui Harbinger. The last time we encountered one . . . it wasn’t great.”

Nabu hummed. “The Harbinger in question stole Barbatos’ Gnosis.”

“Sharzad ripped off the coward’s arm,” Deshret added. Was that pride in his tone, or just pure glee?

Zhongli’s eyes narrowed again, and he raised his hand to thoughtfully stroke his chin. “I see. Childe is certainly on the more . . . honorable side of his associates. I hope you do not mind if we meet him later today.”

“Oh, he’s helping you with the Rite of Parting too?” Paimon asked. “What do the Fatui know about that kind of stuff?”

“Childe has the burden of acting as Zhongli’s wallet.” Hu Tao’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Which I am grateful for because, otherwise, our dear consultant would drain me of all my funds. I have bills to pay, you know!” She patted Sharzad’s shoulder. “I hope your mentor warned you about spending on him, because I promise you—you won’t have any Mora by the end of the day!”

Considering the sheer amount of Mora in her Inventory, Sharzad thought this was unlikely. It’d be considerably worse if she was made to spend her Primogems, but even then, she’d been carefully saving up for a guaranteed win on a future weapon banner. There was no point in spending willy-nilly when she had a decent arsenal and only two possible weapon types she could actually level up and use.

Zhongli raised his hand to cover his mouth, and though he did not physically shrink backwards, it certainly felt like he did. “Director.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you be.” Hu Tao opened the funeral parlor’s door, but before entering, she turned to Sharzad. “The offer for an exorcism still stands.”

The doors shut behind her, leaving their motley crew of ghosts, gods, and other not-entirely-human entities to their own devices (oh, that internal comment about being undead clearly set her off).

“Soooooo, what’s first on the list for this Rite of Parting?” Paimon asked.

Zhongli didn’t even pause to think about it. “Noctilucous Jade worthy of a deity. It is a rich ore known for its ability to glow in the dark. There are several merchants in Liyue who sell such a product, and we are lucky that a few sell their raw ore in the harbor. Come, let us be off.”

~~~

Miraculously, neither Paimon nor Aether asked about Zhongli’s true identity for the first tasks. Although perhaps this was because they remained in the center of Liyue Harbor, where yelling about Zhongli’s true identity would certainly cause pandemonium.

After acquiring the Noctilucous Jade—a task that had them boiling tiny slivers of the rock in order to test their quality (Sharzad had no idea why Zhongli couldn’t just do that with his Geo powers. He had a fake Vision, after all)—and dropping it at a jewelsmith for processing, their next item to acquire was silk flowers.

“Flowers?” Sharzad immediately cupped her palms and created one of the pink blossoms, holding it out to Morax. “Here. How many do we need?”

Zhongli took the flower from her grasp, holding it up to inspect it. “Impressive. Are you able to create the various varieties of silk flower? If not, then I am afraid we still must purchase them.”

“Varieties?” She frowned. “I mean, I’ve done that with roses before, so it can’t be too difficult.”

“She’ll be able to,” Deshret confirmed.

Well, thanks for the vote of confidence. At least someone believes in me.

Apparently, Deshret’s endorsement was enough for Morax. Absolutely terrifying knowledge. “In that case, could you create two of the Golden House Maiden, Valley Weaver, and Fate's Yearning varieties?”

Could she do that? She’d never heard of those before, let alone of silk flowers having varieties. The only reason those names sounded vaguely familiar was because of the bullshit god powers Nabu Malikata gave her, but at this point, the whole plant-identification thing was normal.

Nabu offered Zhongli a nod. “I will aid her, Morax. Give us a few minutes.”

And then she not-so-gently coaxed Sharzad a few steps sideways and into an alleyway. Deshret stayed with Zhongli instead of joining them, leaving Sharzad and Nabu to hide in the shadows alone.

“Looks like this is going to be a trend now,” she sighed.

“What is?”

“Alleyways.”

Nabu chuckled. “It’s only because Liyue Harbor has so many alleyways. We will have different hideaways in every place we travel to. Perhaps your palace will have an inner garden sanctum so you can be private somewhere beautiful.”

“Riiiiiight. My palace.” Instead of letting those particular thoughts take over, Sharzad shoved her anxieties down. “We can add that to the list of queen bullshit I have to get to and talk about it more when we get closer to me taking the throne. Now tell me–” she clapped her hands together and pointed them at Nabu. “–how am I supposed to create these flowers? I don’t do varieties. I do colours.”

“I could always possess you. That may be the easiest thing.”

Sharzad blinked. “You know what? Sure. But you’ll teach me later?”

“When we have more time,” the goddess promised her. “In a dream, perhaps.”

Two minutes later, Sharzad walked out of the alleyway with six stems of fresh silk flowers in hand. She presented them to Zhongli, who took them without hesitation.

“These are perfect. Most silk flowers these days are grown by horticulturalists, as the species has all but disappeared from the wild. Fresh flowers like these are much more suited to the Rite of Parting.” He thumbed through the flowers, separating them by variety. “Just look at the abundant foliage here. And these stamens, glamorous as a maiden of the Golden House. This strain is an evergreen, and mostly grows under complex hydrological conditions.”

Sharzad could only think nerd at him as he continued. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Nabu’s appreciative gaze, while Deshret shook his head in some semblance of exasperation.

“By contrast, this variety thrives in any dark, damp location, often in large clusters. Morphologically, it is distinguished by the profusion of petals and densely packed stamens, though its powerful scent gives it away just as easily.” He held the last variety to his nose to smell it. “Lastly, this strain is quite the recluse. Unlike its exuberant cousins, flowers and foliage are minimal, and when in season, it has a subtle yet enduring scent. It was first discovered by the ancients when they scaled the mountains in search of the adepti.”

“Wow! You know a lot about flowers, Mister Zhongli!” Paimon turned to Sharzad. “Did you know all that?”

She shrugged. “Nope.” Not consciously, anyway.

Zhongli handed the flowers to Aether. “I leave these to you and Miss Paimon. They will need to be made into perfumes that we offer to a Statue of the Seven. As is tradition, Rex Lapis will choose from the scents the one he wants for the Rite of Parting.”

Aether frowned. “What about Sharzad?”

“She will stay with me, and we will meet you at the Statue of the Seven to the north of the harbor.”

“I think I saw a perfume shop in the area where the Adventurers’ Guild is,” Sharzad said in an effort to help out. “You could probably ask around there for some help.”

“Hold on! You’re just going to leave us?!”

Sharzad nodded at Paimon. “Yep.”

~~~

It took three minutes for Paimon’s indignant screeching to fade into the background. Sharzad understood, given her hatred of fetch quests, but she also knew that opportunities to speak with Zhongli would be quite hard to come by, and she wanted every chance she could get.

Besides, she’d heard enough of that strange perfume lady (Ying’er, wasn’t it?) in her old life to know that if she was present for any variation of that dialogue she would either a) burst out laughing or b) combust on the spot from sheer embarrassment. Needless to say, that wasn’t happening.

The path out of Liyue Harbor was mostly mud by now, the surrounding grass covered in such a thin sheen of snow that, in certain patches of tall grass, you couldn’t even tell there was snow on the ground. It would have certainly been a warmer day than those of Mondstadt, except the wind from the sea brought cold air that swirled around and between the surrounding mountains.

Zhongli waited until they were out of the harbor to speak. “Liyue Harbor is a prosperous city, but it is most unfortunate that we must travel elsewhere to avoid being overheard.”

“You must still be proud of it, right? You are its founder, after all.”

He hummed. “It is true that I seldom grow tired of its people. There is always something new to see, whether it is a recent opera or a rediscovered collection of ancient pottery. Its original settlement does not even compare to what arose after the end of the Archon War, and I am certain neither Amun nor Nabu ever saw it at its most prosperous.”

Deshret, who at this point decided it would be more fun to perch on Sharzad’s shoulder as a ghostly hawk, opened his beak. “Being dead prevents one from travelling, Morax, particularly when the extant fragments of your soul are bound to the most sacred parts of your lands.”

“And yet here you are.” The Archon of Geo smiled. “Time may march on, but I still have the joy of meeting with old friends. It is most fortunate.”

Sharzad sighed. “Gods, do all of you ancient deities sound like you walked out of a Jane Austen novel?”

Zhongli turned to look at her. Unfortunately, he had to look down, which made it seem a little condescending when he asked: “Is this Jane Austen a new author from Mondstadt?”

“She’s from my world, not this one.”

Perhaps satisfied by her reply, Zhongli turned his gaze forward again. They walked a few paces in silence before he spoke again. “You are . . . quite forthcoming about your origins.”

“Well, gods like you can tell, can’t you? That’s what Neuvillette told me.”

“Who?”

“She means the Hydro Sovereign.”

Zhongli stopped in his tracks, eyes widening. After coughing and adjusting his jacket, he started to walk again. “Ah. He has been reborn after all.”

So he is afraid of him. With actual human(oid) facial expressions and body language, Sharzad could perceive a lot more about peoples’ feelings than Genshin Impact’s animated medium ever allowed. And here, she could see the surprise and nervousness flashing across Morax’s features. No surprises there, of course.

She hummed. “It’s the circle of life. But I don’t think he’ll be leaving Fontaine anytime soon, if that’s any consolation. They have a prophecy to deal with over there.”

“A problem for your future self, I suppose.”

“Unfortunately. Which is why I’d rather talk about this potential deal between us sooner rather than later, Morax.” Instead of stopping for dramatic effect, she kept walking, keeping her tone as conversational as possible. “What would you want from me, and what might you give me in exchange?”

She phrased it as bluntly as possible. There was no room for flowery language here: she needed an answer. After the dream negotiation she had with Deshret for her second deal, she didn’t want to spend another six hours getting an itemized list of potential powers from an ancient god.

It’d also be kind of weird if it happened twice.

However, it seemed that Morax wanted nothing to do with simplicity. “If we are to negotiate a contract, Sharzad, I wish to know what you would like. It is not fair if there is only one party at the bargaining table.”

“That’s how it went with Dvalin back in Mondstadt. Same with Deshret and Nabu.”

Zhongli shot both his friends a disapproving look.

“She was dying the first time we made a deal. We did not have time to negotiate.”

Sharzad nodded. “And, to be honest, I don’t know enough about your abilities to ask for something in particular. See, I’d rather it be specific than anything too broad because the last time I took powers without being careful, I almost died for a second time in about an hour.”

Zhongli slowly nodded. “Ah. That is quite troublesome. Though I suppose you have not yet developed the constitution to truly withstand your full power. That will come with time.”

She winced. “I have . . . regrettably, not trained these abilities much since I received them.”

“Amun mentioned that it took you two years to accept to become his heir. I suppose that nearly dying could certainly spook a mortal into avoiding power at all cost.” He gestured ahead at a beam of blue light shooting into the sky. “The statue is close. We can settle there and speak about this while awaiting your friend. It will be a complex matter, but I am not opposed to lending you some of my power—provided this is a fair exchange.”

“I know that expression. You have an idea, don’t you, Morax?”

“I certainly have an idea for Sharzad’s end of the bargain. But I would like to hear your story first. Tell me how you came across my old friends, and how you came to accompany a Descender on his quest around Teyvat.”

Notes:

We finally get to see some Zhongli and Sharzad interactions, wooo!! Although next week (should) be more focused on the two conversing, so that will be fun!

I'll be honest, I wasn't sure I was going to finish this chapter on time. With the end of the semester coming up, I have about a hundred different projects to do and some more things to set up for the summer as well (I'm going to be starting my own YouTube channel, so there's a lot of prep work there with finding mics, designing banners, planning videos, etc). But I did!

This does mean that I probably won't get any bonus chapters done until mid-April at least, so the RagBros reconciliation and the Haikaveh-centered fic are going to have to wait, unfortunately.

1) The quest name is taken from the real Archon Quest "Farewell, Archaic Lord," which is the second act of Chapter I

2) Aether has a lot of questions for Sharzad. I think I'll add a POV for him in the next chapter, because I want to show off more of his thoughts and thought process for this arc. There's a lot underlying their friendship right now, and this fic is also meant to have some Xiaoaether stuff, so that's fun!

3) Hu Tao appears! I'll be adding her to the tags since I think she's such a complex character, and I think she and Sharzad can have an interesting relationship, especially with the ghost gods and Sharzad having died before

4) The Noctilucous Jade is taken directly from the quest "Moonfinger," only I got rid of the thing where they run to Dadaupa Gorge to use the cauldron because, in this universe, only Aether/Descenders and Sharzad can teleport using the Waypoints. The Silk Flower thing is from the perfume quest, but if I had to write Ying'er's dialogue, I would explode, so Aether has to deal with that alone

5) I don't know if we as players are going to see Neuvillette judge the Archons for their crimes, and so I'm leaving this purposefully vague since Sharzad is supposedly from the future, when Genshin ends/is close to ending. A lot of the earlier stuff in Whirling of Leaves and Petals will have to be edited since I got things about Natlan wrong, so that's another thing that will happen. I'll try to let you guys know in an Author's note when the entire fic is updated

Next week: Zhongli gets to hear Sharzad's backstory, and they talk through a potential deal

Also, I got so many comments last week and I want to say: I really appreciate it! Y'all are so nice and it's part of why I love Saturdays so much, since I get to reply to all of your comments at once!

Chapter 5: Chapter II: (Back)Story Time

QUEST

(Back)Story Time

Tell Morax your backstory

They sat at the base of the Statue of the Seven, leaning against the column as if it wasn’t an object sacred to the Archons. Morax knew that many Liyueans would be appalled at such disregard for one of his statues, but he could never bring himself to understand that particular piece of culture. After all, the statues only existed to secure the Ley Lines.

Besides, it was his statue, and although he was technically deceased, it was not as if he stopped being in charge of it. He was certainly not about to force Amun and Nabu’s little heir to sit in the cold snow instead.

And, she truly was little. Not frail, of course—Morax could tell that there was muscle beneath the long, loose sleeves of her shirt—but she was little. Small. The top of her head just barely reached the height of his shoulders, though the curls of her hair gave her a little extra height. She was young, too, but Morax had long since learned that youth was not necessarily a good measure of wisdom, and given this was Amun and Nabu’s heir, she had to be quite intelligent.

In the background, the ever-persistent pull he’d been feeling intermittently for the past week continued to nag him. It grew in intensity every few minutes, as if insisting they get on with making the deal rather than wasting time.

But Morax wanted to know his old friends’ heir a little better so he might discern what would work best for their deal. Perhaps some control over Geo would be nice, but he did not want this blessing of his to overrule anything Amun, Nabu, or some other benefactor already cast. He also needed her to accept the terms of her own accord, to understand what he was offering and negotiate rather than simply signing a contract out of desperation.

After a moment to get comfortable, Sharzad took a breath and began her tale.

“I was reborn in Sumeru’s desert. I don’t know the specifics of it, but I just woke up, half-buried in the sand and with barely any memories to my name. Stuff happened, I had a run-in with Eremites who . . . I don’t know, tried to traffic me or something? I couldn’t understand their language, either—all I could speak was Primordial. Or Abyssal, I guess.”

So she knew the tongue of the Angels. Morax only had passing familiarity with it—they had been on the verge of their demise when he hatched, and by the time he was old enough to meet them, most had been felled. He was much more familiar with a form of Draconic, one of the sole remnants of his own heritage, especially with his ancestors lost to the conflict against Celestia. Besides Azhdaha, Dvalin, and the Hydro Sovereign, the only remaining dragons were the Saurians in Natlan (if those weakened, diminutive forms could even be called dragons) and the few species of vishap that survived the ancient war.

Oblivious to his train of thought, Sharzad continued. “Anyway, people from the Akademiya arrived and freed me, and that’s how I met Cyno. He’s the General Mahamatra, and the reason I met my fathers. Papa’s a linguist, and he taught me Teyvan and Sumerian while I lived with him. Again, stuff happened in the meantime, but I eventually attended the Akademiya as a Vahumana student.”

Ah, a student of history. That certainly explained how she could have stumbled upon Amun and Nabu’s spirits. Perhaps it had been an excavation of some kind, and an accident led to them making those . . . foolish, unfair deals with her?

“Because of my advanced studies at a young age, one of my professors—well, two, technically–” here, her voice shook. “–thought, hey, she could be Deshret’s reincarnation, and they had me kidnapped when I was fourteen. Well, thirteen, but my birthday was like a month away, so . . .”

Her voice trembled again, and she balled her hands into fists. Red flowers snaked around her arms, blooming the colour of blood as she swallowed in a clear attempt to continue. Amun, who had taken the form of a hawk, quickly jumped off her shoulder and shifted to his human guise. His gaze gleamed with concern Morax had rarely seen on him, but it was an expression he recognized after years of living with humans.

That was not a normal concern. It was the concern shown by parents watching their children, by grandparents fussing over whether their grandchildren had enough to eat or were happy enough.

“Would you like one of us to tell him the next part, Sharzad?” Nabu asked. “Amun and I can handle it from here.”

“I–” the girl clearly hesitated. Clearly she hadn’t escaped the depth of her trauma just yet, its aftershocks still occurring years after the initial seismic event. “–maybe?”

“Breathe with me, alright? Amun will continue.”

After ensuring that his wife had begun walking the girl through some breathing exercises meant to soothe anxieties, Amun turned his gaze to Morax. “Those fools took her to my mausoleum.” Ah, he was angry now. Perhaps, if he still had his power, the soil around him would have transformed into sand, but instead, all that changed was the intensity of his gaze, and the flickering of his true form overlaying his humanoid guise. Feathers, wings, and talons appeared and disappeared with each angry syllable. “I have no idea how they decided that sacrificing my ‘reincarnation’ would restore its power, but they were delusional enough to lock her in a sarcophagus.”

Morax, being the intelligent, six-thousand year old deity he was, responded intelligently to the sound of something so traumatic happening to the child sitting next to him. “Ah.”

Perhaps that was one of the reasons Hu Tao seemed so concerned with Sharzad’s well-being. Being resurrected could warp portions of one’s spiritual energy, and while he certainly wasn’t as naturally attuned to it as Hu Tao was, if he reached out hard enough, he could sense the cracks where Sharzad’s energy had broken before remodelling itself. How horrifying.

“It was there, as she was dying, that Nabu and I made those deals with her. In fact, I almost refused to do so.”

“Yet you followed her anyway.”

He could barely recall memories where the two weren’t together in some capacity, whether it was as friends the first few times they met to spar, or as a couple in their later centuries of friendship. Morax had been at their wedding, too—though admittedly quite drunk off his ass by the end of the night, so the memories that remained were even fuzzier than they should have been.

“Nabu is my wife. Where she goes, I go. You felt the same way about Guizhong, didn’t you?”

Morax smiled softly at the memory of gray-blue hair and the subtle-sweet perfume of glaze lilies. “Love is a fickle thing, and it makes fools out of us all.”

“Perhaps. But I see you have managed to move on.” There was a hint of the younger Amun, a teasing glint in his eye as if he was reporting important gossip he’d either overheard or discovered with his abilities. “With a Harbinger, no less.”

“Childe is but a friend at the moment, however unfortunate that may be.”

“Have you fought him yet?”

Amun was well-acquainted with draconic courtship rituals, but something in his tone told Morax that the Sand King also knew of Childe’s more violent tendencies.

Morax shook his head. “I have tried to avoid it, but he is rather insistent. I do not know how much longer I can deny him.”

“Then perhaps you have done yourself a disservice. He certainly seems like a good combatant beyond the Abyssal energy tainting him. Certainly worthy to wed a dragon.”

“He does not know my true identity, and though I wish to tell him the truth, I am bound to silence until my Gnosis is in the Tsaritsa’s hands.”

“A shame.” Amun’s eyes narrowed. “This plan of yours, how can you be so certain it will work?”

“I have faith in the people of Liyue. Did you not have faith in your heir when you made that foolish deal two years ago?”

“No.”

How terribly blunt of him.

Well, Amun had certainly never been the type to easily trust others, a consequence of his early years in the newly formed desert. Morax certainly couldn’t blame him, for Amun’s first centuries of life had been filled with struggles to survive amidst older monsters determined to root out all life and the unstable remnants of poison that survived the Celestial Nail. From what he knew, Amun began his task of taking the desert under his wing mere days after meeting Nabu, and by the time he met the desert’s deities, Amun was a king.

Four centuries younger than Morax, and a king by the time he reached eight hundred years. He had been a powerhouse, a deity so worshipped and respected that the thousands of years after his death meant nothing to his followers. It was why Celestia sought to make him Sumeru’s Archon, but he’d staunchly refused.

“Deep in thought, are we? Surely you do not disapprove of our original contracts that much?”

“You may be intelligent, Amun, but your contracts clearly need work. Did you even write them on paper?” He chuckled at Amun’s silence. “I take it you did not. Truly foolish of you.”

“You seem rather enthused by the prospect of enraging me.”

“Haha. I will not lie—I have not felt the thrill of a good fight in a while. There are few left alive who could challenge me, let alone defeat me as you did.”

“With a little more training, I have no doubts that Sharzad–”

The sound of her name caught the little mortal’s attention. She pointed accusingly at Deshret, ignoring the tear stains on her face in favour of speaking. “Don’t you fucking dare, Deshret. You of all people should know that I’m not even close to ready to fight a god.”

There was a moment of silence.

Morax couldn’t help his chuckle. “I see what you meant by her being quite the trouble.”

“Certainly one of the boldest mortals we have ever met,” Nabu agreed. “She staunchly refused Amun’s crown for years and only relented recently! No one else would be so stubborn with him.”

Groaning, Sharzad buried her face in her hands. “Not you too!”

“I’m only being honest, Sharzad.”

“I–you know what? No. You’re right. I doubt that a lot of people would tell either of you to shut up.” She sighed, wiped the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve, and then turned to Morax again. “Is there anything else you’d like to hear? Past what happened in the Mausoleum, it kind of gets boring.”

“Why did you finally accept Amun’s offer? What moved you to become his heir?”

Was it power? Did she, like so many mortals before her, fall victim to the desire—the need for more power? Had it been something else? Fear holding her back, perhaps? Amun could be relentless when he desired something. He doubtless pushed his agenda every chance he got. To hold on for two years before finally capitulating . . .

“My reasons vary,” is what Sharzad eventually said. “The main one was that I had to—I fought an Abyss Herald, and the only reason I didn’t lose was because Deshret was there to lend me his power for a short moment.”

Morax didn’t focus on the Abyss Herald part, but on what she said afterwards. “I didn’t lose.” That wasn’t an admission of victory; it was an admission of survival. She’d taken on an Abyss Herald, that was certain (Morax doubted that she would lie to him, not with Amun and Nabu at her side), but whatever transpired during the battle likely incapacitated her in some way.

And so it had. “I had to recharge my energy, anyway, so Deshret and I talked about it in a dream. I had–I’d thought about it for weeks earlier since I knew that stuff was only going to get harder after Mondstadt, especially since the Fatui showed up. Reworking my deal with Deshret and becoming his heir was the best solution we came up with.”

At the sound of a second deal, Morax turned to Amun, one eyebrow raised. “I hope you actually made a two-sided exchange this time, rather than dictating everything.”

“Trust me, he explained everything.” Sharzad reached up as if she was going to run a hand through her hair, but when her fingertips met her crown of woven qingxins, she lowered her hand to rest it on her lap. “His powers in detail, his birth and Nabu’s arrival in the desert, the dragons, et cetera . . . and then I got to choose. With advice, obviously, otherwise I’d probably be stuck as a bird right now. Because, y’know, shapeshifting.”

“That would certainly be troublesome.” Morax nodded his approval to Amun. “But overall much better than the first of your deals, no matter what they were.”

The Statue of the Seven pulsed brighter for a moment, but since he didn’t sense anything wrong with the Ley Lines, Morax didn’t bother finding the glowing’s origin at the moment. Then, a presence appeared in his periphery—two presences, actually—just as Sharzad asked her next question.

“Aren’t you a god of contracts?” Sharzad asked. “Shouldn’t you— Helios?!”

The blond Descender and his floating companion stepped in front of them, glaring accusingly in Morax’s direction. “I knew it!”

Well, this was quite an unfortunate development.

~~~

Sharzad winced at Aether’s tone, especially when he turned his attention from Zhongli to her. Even if he hadn’t been staring into her soul, she would have known he was pissed just by the sound of his voice.

“So he is still alive!”

Feeling horrendously guilty at his reaction, Sharzad avoided his gaze and stared into her lap instead. Her hands had already started trembling. “I–I never said he wasn’t!”

“Some might say that a lie by omission is a lie nonetheless,” Nabu commented before pulling her husband’s head into her lap and running a hand through Deshret’s hair. Sharzad thought it was a rather unfitting display for what was clearly a tense situation.

“You were willing to let us believe it!” Aether snapped. “Right, Paimon?”

The pixie nodded, but her anger didn’t really land considering her overall size and stature. “Yeah! First you did that, and then you abandoned us so you could sneak a talk with Rex Lapis without us!”

After steadying herself with a breath, Sharzad spoke, keeping her tone as neutral as possible. “I have a deal to make, Paimon.”

“You could have least told us he’s alive! The Traveler has questions for him!”

Yeah right, and I would die when Morax inevitably found out I’m the one who spilled the tea.

“I would be more than willing to answer your questions at a later date,” Zhongli said calmly. Sharzad made a mental note to ask how he managed it—her whole body still shook imperceptibly. “Provided you keep my true identity a secret.”

Paimon held her hands out, palms facing upwards. “Why later? Couldn’t you answer our questions now?”

When the dark-haired god stood, he seemed to shed his mortal guise in favour of a divine one. “There are too many plans at play, Miss Paimon, and this particular exchange is simple enough that I may deal with it later. Your friend here, on the other hand, will be subject to a . . . more complex, but fairer exchange.”

Fairer exchange? What the heck did that mean? Sharzad wasn’t against it, but did Morax mean that he’d thought of what her end of the deal might be? What did that mean for his end? She hadn’t even chosen anything yet!

“Once, of course, she tells me how she met you, Descender.”

Aether blinked. “A what?”

“A being from beyond Teyvat’s stars,” Sharzad explained. “You know, like Albedo said.”

“You can see that stuff with your god powers?!” Paimon exclaimed. “Does that mean Venti knows, too?”

She shrugged. “Probably.” Turning to Morax, she added, “To answer your question: I met him when Dvalin attacked the City of Mondstadt this one time. It’s a long story involving Abyssal contamination and the Abyss Order plotting something weird.”

Deshret sighed, putting a hand on his temple. “By ‘something weird,’ she means a full-scale invasion of Mondstadt. That is why she impulsively fought an Abyss Herald.”

“Hmm. That is quite a reckless decision, if you were honest about your training. I suppose that your power is why she survived, Amun?”

“Yes. My full power.” To say Deshret looked displeased would be an understatement. Even from his position—with his head in Nabu’s lap—he radiated an energy as if he was thinking the bar was so low and yet you somehow managed to limbo dance with the devil. “We are lucky she did not die a second time.”

“Who’s Amun?” Paimon asked at the same time.

It took Sharzad a second to realise that the white-haired pixie said anything. “Oh. It’s Deshret.”

“But why ‘Amun’?”

“It’s his personal name, but you’re not allowed to call him that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s disrespectful.”

“Good,” Deshret said. “You’re learning.”

The contented smile on his face did not match his tone, but Sharzad figured that it was because Nabu was still running her hands through his hair. If he was a cat god, he’d probably have been purring. But since Deshret took the form of a chicken (ahem, a falcon, but whatever), he was incapable of purring. Probably.

Nabu leaned over to kiss her husband’s forehead, whispering something that didn’t reach Sharzad’s ears (to be honest, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear it, either). Deshret told her something in return, prompting Nabu to lift her head again.

“What is your plan, Morax? Do you intend on waiting for your contract or will you discuss it soon?”

“I would prefer to wait for a more . . . private setting,” Morax said (Sharzad shot both Paimon and Aether unimpressed looks). “However, if I may, I would like to ask you to do something, Sharzad. This will inform you about my abilities more than any history book or legend can.”

Confused by the turn of events, Sharzad frowned. “What?”

Instead of replying right away, Morax clasped his hands together. Golden light shone through the spaces between his gloved fingertips, radiating fragments of energy exceedingly similar to Aether’s newest Geo powers (no surprises there, to be honest). And when he finally drew his hands apart, he held a yellow paper talisman covered in Liyuean writing. It shimmered in the muted daylight.

When Sharzad’s thoughts accidentally wandered to how the talisman would look in the sun, a beam of golden light pierced through the clouds.

“Oops.”

Morax, who really should have stopped surprising her at this point, only smiled. “That is quite normal for any young deity. The control will come with time.”

Normal for any young deity.

Somehow, Sharzad managed to frown harder. “I’m not a god, though.”

“Yet you have the power of not one, but two of them. Soon to be three, when we finalize your next contract.” He held sigil out to her, waiting until she took it from his hands. “That is a Sigil of Permission. It will allow you to enter any of the adepti’s territory safely.”

“Why?”

“I would like you to ask them about me. What they know of my abilities and of my past.” He brought his arms behind his back, straightening his posture as he did so. “When you feel you have collected enough information, seek me out in the harbor. Forming our contract will be a considerably swifter process if you understand what powers I can offer you.”

Since it looked like Morax was about to leave, Sharzad spoke up. “What about the Rite of Parting?”

“You are more than welcome to join me, especially since you would no doubt appreciate the learning opportunity.” He glanced at Paimon and Aether, who looked on with curious expressions. Well, curious for Paimon. Aether looked strangely like he was plotting a murder. “Your friends are also welcome, provided they keep my identity a secret.”

A moment of silence was punctuated by the sound of the wind rushing by.

“Will you answer my questions?” Aether finally asked.

“When my plans have been completed. And I assure you, my word is as solid as stone.”

Sharzad tilted her head. “Can you even suffer the Wrath of the Rock if you’re the Rock in question?”

Morax didn’t even hesitate before replying. “I am beholden to a contract as much as any other, otherwise I would be a hypocrite. No deity is above their own law.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Paimon blinked. “But . . . you’re not a god, right? You just said so!”

Morax answered before Sharzad had the chance to. “The lessons of godhood serve more than just the divine.” He stared at Aether, who moved backwards slightly, eyes wide at the fact that he was being spoken to. “You would do well to learn from the deities you encounter during your journey, Descender.”

Deshret pulled himself out of Nabu’s lap, but he didn’t stand, only adjusting his posture and summoning his falcon helmet. “Rather blunt, aren’t you, Morax?”

Without missing a beat, the Goddess of Flowers poked her husband’s shoulder. “He hasn’t changed, and neither have you, Amun. Your control over Geo energies certainly lends itself to bluntness and stubbornness, and that is true for both of you. It certainly did not lend itself to diplomatic relations in your youth.”

Fighting back a snort of laughter, Sharzad watched Deshret avoid his wife’s gaze out of sheer embarrassment. “Must you always remind me of those first encounters?”

“Of course. And I certainly miss seeing you in battle.” Morax frowned slightly when Nabu nodded at him. “You too, Morax. Your spearmanship is quite unmatched these days, isn’t it?”

That drew a chuckle. “I rarely find time to spar with anyone anymore. Much less an equal who may stand a chance at defeating me. Amun was one of the last to do so.”

“You eventually improved.”

“You sound like grandparents reminiscing,” Sharzad mumbled, interrupting the conversation in the process.

“We are thousands of years old, dear. Just because we look young does not mean we are.” Nabu smiled at her, amusement sparkling in her gaze. “And I do believe you called Amun ‘grandpa’ a week ago.”

Her face immediately seared. “It was a joke!”

Annoyingly, all three gods laughed.

~~~

It was a cold, dark night, and Aether was walking through the wilds of Liyue rather than doing the intelligent thing and falling asleep in his bed at the inn.

The moon and stars, clearly visible in the unpolluted sky, gave him enough light to see by, especially once his eyes adjusted to the lack of street lamps and lanterns in Guili Plains. Only the Teleport Waypoint and hilichurl camps gave off light, but they barely left a mark compared to what shone overhead.

There were times he’d forgotten what stars looked like, after months or years living in dystopian or magical worlds where stars either didn’t exist or had been blocked out by pollution, natural disasters, or supernatural forces of all kinds. Sometimes he forgot that not all star systems were the same, that constellations varied and so did their power (if they had any at all). In some worlds, stars could even descend and turn into people, which sometimes led him to stare up at the sky and contemplate the personalities of the stars above.

But tonight wasn’t one of those nights. He needed a clear head and an empty space to think.

Sharzad knew who Morax was. She’d kept his identity and continued existence a secret, all for a deal she hadn’t even made yet. Not to mention—she’d looked like she had cried when he and Paimon rejoined her and Zhongli at the Statue of the Seven. She looked like she’d sobbed enough to leave tear tracks on her face and smudge the dark makeup she’d oh-so-precisely applied around her eyes in the morning.

What did Morax tell her? Why is she cooperating with him even without a deal? What conversations am I missing from her other two gods—the invisible ones? What else is she hiding?

The funeral parlor girl, Hu Tao, sensed a spiritual energy on her, but Aether was certain that there was more behind it than the gods, even if Morax himself covered for Sharzad.

“Strange, with the spiritual energy clinging to you, I’d have guessed you were a ghost.”

But Sharzad was alive, of course. A living, breathing human(?) who was keeping secrets from him and everyone else. Secrets about her existence and her role in Teyvat, whatever that role might be.

Who goes around making pacts with deities? Especially with deities who have the names of demons–

“It is late. You should not be out here.”

Aether jumped, sword at the ready to attack whatever was—oh. It was that adeptus, Xiao, the one with the spiky shoulder armour and the kind-of-really-cool tattoos (Aether once wanted a tattoo, but those could get tricky really fast depending on where and when he was, so he’d abandoned the dream a few centuries after it first came). His pupils reflected the light from above, eerie pinpricks in otherwise dark surroundings. The expression painting his face—furrowed brows and downturned lips—seemed . . . different, somehow, from the night they’d first met.

Something had changed.

“Why not?”

With his arms crossed and pale skin, Xiao looked like a strangely angry marble statue in the starlight. “Liyue is dangerous after dark.”

“I can defend myself.”

“You humans need sleep, do you not?”

Aether chose not to comment on how he technically wasn’t human, at least not by the standards of Teyvat (or many other worlds, for that matter). Did he need sleep? To an extent. Was he able to sleep right now? Absolutely not.

“What about you? Don’t you need sleep?”

“I see you have learned from your traveling companion: you have no respect for the ways of the adepti.”

“Sharzad respects the adepti.” I think.

Xiao fell silent for a moment, before completely ignoring Aether’s point. “She knows too much and hides even more. Tell me, Traveler, how often has she lied since you arrived here?”

I’m not sure.

The grass rustled under Xiao’s feet as he stepped closer to Aether. Up close, he noticed that Xiao was just barely shorter than him, even with his fluffy hair giving him an extra centimetre or so.

“You have noticed, Traveler.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Do you still trust her? Even now, after she has lied to you? Even now that her quest for power has led to the death of my Archon–”

Xiao looked pained. Lost, even. His stoic facade cracked just enough for Aether to understand why Xiao looked different tonight. He’d lost Rex Lapis—or he thought he had, anyway.

“Rex Lapis is still alive,” he blurted, before immediately clamping a hand over his mouth.

“What?”

“He’s still alive, that’s all I can—I need answers. He promised me that if I keep his new identity secret, he would–” his throat seized, realisation dawning. “–Sharzad was under contract. That’s why she couldn’t tell me the truth. He promised her a deal before the Rite of Descension.”

“My master is . . . still alive?” Xiao frowned. “Why would he—why would he pretend to be dead? Why would he not show himself to Liyue? Rex Lapis is immensely powerful, it would take a lot to kill him.”

Aether swallowed, a strange sensation of foreboding washing over him. “I don’t know.”

Notes:

On this week's chapter: more lore proves to me that I have to make a lore document to keep all of this in order.

1) I'm 100% a Zhongchi/Chili shipper, but I also love the idea that Morax and Guizhong were a thing/Zhongli had past loves, so we're going to get to see more of that as this fic goes on. My Nabu and Guizhong were also friends, so we'll get to see Nabu shine during those chapters (I feel like I've been neglecting her lately)

2) Some dragon courtship rituals include tests to prove one's own strength. Battle/duels is one way to do so (I will likely not elaborate too much on this just yet)

3) In the Archon Quest, Childe is the one to give the Traveler a Sigil of Permission (which were created by Morax), but I thought it would make more sense for Zhongli to give Sharzad one directly. And there is a secret hidden reason why Morax wants her to go talk to the Adepti, so I invite you to theorize in the comments :)

4) I may or may not write a mini fic about Morax and Amun's first encounters with one another. They include Amun accidentally entering Morax's territory, several duels, and Amun coming out on top more often than not. I also have a headcanon that the younger Morax was an impulsive and reclusive dumbass and only mellowed out thanks to several people (including Guizhong) forcing him to socialize and adapt to a world where most dragons were extinct

That's all for notes (I think). Exam season is about to start for me so writing has been difficult to manage, but I want to keep this schedule consistent for you guys (plus it helps me relax). That does mean that an update or two might come a day late, but hopefully nothing worse than that, and we'll have waaaay more stuff on the other side! I've had ideas for a Wriolette fic with bonus dragon baby Freminet (can you tell that I love kidfics/accidental baby acquisition?) and I also maybe want to start being active on Tumblr again, but I only want to work on that once I have the university stuff out of the way so we'll see :)

Hope you enjoyed, and comments and Kudos are appreciated!

Chapter 6: Chapter II: The Realm Within

QUEST

The Realm Within

Talk to Madame Ping

It was a nice day.

Early that morning, Childe managed to collect another debt for the bank without getting blood all over his clothes (meaning he wouldn’t have to stop by his apartment to change), and since he’d finished his paperwork the night before, Ekaterina wouldn’t object to him spending the day with Zhongli (not that she really could since he was a Harbinger).

So, as he had often done the past few months, Childe sent a short note to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor asking if Zhongli would join him for lunch at Liuli Pavilion. However, the note was clearly unnecessary, as he found the handsome consultant strolling through Liyue Harbor without a care in the world rather than cooped up in his office like he usually was.

“Zhongli- xiansheng!”

Stay calm stay calm stay calm. Just the man’s eyes threatened to bring a blush to his face, their color richer than any gemstone Childe had seen on Pantalone. Not to mention how just making eye contact gave Childe the impression that Zhongli was always reading him, searching for answers beneath Childe’s facade. Studying him like he was a fortress awaiting to be breached.

Just like my a–

Oblivious to his thoughts, Zhongli offered him a serene, albeit welcoming, smile. He was angled in a way that if Childe let his gaze lower slightly too far, he would get a perfect view of the man’s ass . . . ets. Assets. “Good morning, Childe.”

He shoved his thoughts away, forcing his gaze to stay on Zhongli’s face. “Yeah, hi. It’s early for you to be out, isn’t it? No consultant business to take care of?”

Childe couldn’t help but feel honoured when Zhongli abandoned his task of inspecting a merchant’s wares in favour of walking with him. Usually, nothing could stop the Funeral Consultant’s pursuit of shiny things or antiques. Sometimes, Childe couldn’t help but internally joke about how Zhongli was like a dragon—hoarding wealth in his home, wherever it was.

“Not personally, no. A few associates of mine have a task to complete. There are still materials to gather for the Rite of Parting, after all.”

Childe hummed to show that he’d heard.

The Rite of Parting was the important part of this whole plan, the moment Childe would steal the Gnosis off Rex Lapis’ corpse and present it to the Tsaritsa. He just had to be right there, maybe a few minutes early, or with a distraction good enough to conceal his movements. Worst case, there was fighting his way to the Gnosis and out of the harbor, but Childe hated involving bystanders in his affairs. Besides, if he did something so overt, the Fatui would be driven from Liyue, and he couldn’t do that to the employees at Northland Bank, many of whom were more comfortable in the land of Geo than back in Snezhnaya (honestly, when faced with Zhongli, Childe couldn’t blame his subordinates for feeling that way).

“So what do I have to purchase today?” he asked, half-teasing, half-serious. “I’m prepared with Mora, this time, especially if you’ve already used up the funds I gave you!”

Surprisingly, Zhongli shook his head. “Haha, there is no need. One of my associates has paid for everything, as she has the wealth of a kingdom at her fingertips.”

“What, you know a god or something, xiansheng?”

“This particular associate is not a god. Only burdened with the power of some of my oldest friends.”

Childe seriously couldn’t tell if Zhongli was being honest or not. It didn’t sound like a joke, but there was no way that Zhongli knew a god, let alone two. Maybe he knew some of the adepti, but that didn’t compare to actual gods. He would know—he was the Tsaritsa’s vanguard, after all.

He scrambled to catch up to Zhongli as he began walking down the street. “So this new associate is taking my place, is she?”

“I would be hard-pressed to find a suitable replacement for you, Childe.”

Fuck. Yep, definitely blushing now. He could feel his entire face burning, and turned it away in the hope of hiding it from Zhongli. The pallor of his skin made it all too easy for blushes to be visible—a negative side of his Snezhnayan heritage, especially when unreasonably hot people were concerned.

They stopped at a stall for several handmade kites, which Zhongli handily paid with the funds Childe gave him earlier that week. It was certainly a strange experience to see Zhongli having Mora for once.

“My associates should finish their task rather soon,” Zhongli commented after they dropped off the kites at the same place the failed Rite of Descension took place. The altar at Yujing Terrace was already covered in items gathered earlier in the week. Childe would have asked Zhongli about them (if only to hear his gorgeous voice for a while), but unfortunately, Zhongli had other plans. He lowered his voice slightly, hand on his chin. “And while Sharzad has an extra task, it should not take too long . . .”

“Wait, Sharzad?” Childe stared at Zhongli. “You don’t mean a stab-happy Eremite girl, do you?”

“Sharzad is no Eremite. Not in the modern cultural sense, anyway. Although she does come from the desert . . .” Brows furrowed, Zhongli blinked at him. “Whatever do you mean by ‘stab-happy’?” His arms crossed, amber gaze the perfect picture of disappointment. “Tell me you did not attack her, Childe.”

“What?! No! She’s a kid, why would I– she threatened to stab me the second she found out I’m a Harbinger!”

It wasn’t like he hid his status—Childe was proud of his rank, proud that he’d earned it, proud that he was the youngest Harbinger in history, surpassing even Arlecchino. But that girl had taken one good look at him, deduced he was Fatui, and then, two seconds later, knew that he was a Harbinger by virtue of his alias. His codename. The damn thing supposed to give him anonymity.

And then, to add insult to injury , she proclaimed that since he wasn’t Dottore, he didn’t deserve to be stabbed. The sheer audacity. Childe was a Harbinger! Most people would kill on sight because the Fatui weren’t a trusted organization around most of Teyvat. In fact, he welcomed an unexpected battle! The best kinds of spars were the ones he didn’t see coming, because the environment wasn’t controlled like it would be in a training room. She should have stabbed him!

“Hm. Amun failed to mention that.” First off, who the heck was Amun? Second, Zhongli’s expression shifted to one of concern, and he inspected Childe’s clothing as if it would give him answers. “She did not injure you, did she?”

“I mean, technically she didn’t even threaten me. She only threatened to assassinate Dottore.” Childe patted Zhongli’s shoulder. “I’m not dying just yet. Besides, do you really think a stab-happy kid will be enough to kill me?”

Zhongli opened his mouth to speak, but a high-pitched voice cut across anything he was about to say.

“We’re back, Mister Zhongli! Oh, hi Childe!”

Childe plastered a friendly smile on his face at the sight of the flying fairy-thing, the blond kid with the braid, and the stab-happy girl he’d met in that alleyway the day of the Rite of Descension. “Hey. So you’re Zhongli- xiansheng’s associates, huh?”

“And you’re his wallet, if I take Hu Tao seriously,” the Sumerian girl shot back as the blond kid (Helios, wasn’t it?) handed Zhongli a black metal bell covered in ornate golden markings and several inlaid gemstones.

“Thank you for fetching this,” Zhongli said, taking the bell with a nod. He then fixed his gaze on Sharzad. Childe thought he looked rather like a disappointed grandfather, similar to how Pulcinella scolded him in his early days as Tartaglia (Pulcinella still scolded him in this manner, but Childe preferred to ignore that part). “Did you threaten to stab Childe, Sharzad?” Zhongli asked calmly.

She crossed her arms. “No. I threatened to stab Dottore. The–” she let out a string of (probably curse) words in another language. “–tortured one of my friends. If there’s anyone who deserves the end of one of Deshret’s knives, it’s that guy.”

Zhongli waited slightly too long before answering. “Please do not sully the ritual daggers with the blood of humanity’s worst.”

Well, it was certainly reassuring to know that Zhongli also thought Dottore deserved a little stabbing. But, wait— ritual daggers? What did Zhongli know about Sharzad that Childe didn’t? Who was this Deshret person who owned a bunch of knives? He sounded strong. Could Childe fight him?

“I wouldn’t worry about that—I catalogued everything already. Everything I found in his cache, anyway. Did you know he hid Nabu’s weapons in the Orchard of Pairidaeza? Her claymores, her scepters, and everything else.” She crossed her arms, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “And now I’m going to have to go trekking through the desert to get those back.”

Zhongli hummed. “That is a task best left for another day, but I am certain that your connections will give you the ability to survive in the sands no matter what. Besides its material wealth, Amun’s kingdom had no shortage of knowledge or survival tools. His library no doubt contains everything you require.”

Childe blinked. “Kingdom? Hold on, am I missing something here?”

“She’s a princess,” Helios said, completely deadpan.

“What?”

Even Zhongli looked completely serious. What?!

“I wear a crown, you know.” Sharzad pointed at the circlet of golden flowers in her hair. “I’m not exactly subtle about it. Same deal as you with your Harbinger identity.”

What?!

“Your Majesty.” Childe offered her a playful bow, the kind he would give Tonia at home. “Princess of what, exactly?”

“Your Highness is the correct form of address, but whatever, Tartaglia. I’m not really in the mood to care about formalities.” After letting out the tiniest sigh, Sharzad reached to adjust her long sleeves, face neutral as she declared: “But my official title is Crown Princess of the Great Red Sand.”

He frowned. “Isn’t that what Sumeru’s desert is called?”

Not that he’d been there, but Dottore’s labs were so disorganized that Childe could easily spot the maps of Sumeru covered in scribbled notes when he went there for his required Abyssal energy checkups. It wasn’t like The Doctor hid them or anything—the maps were just there, lying among medical papers and missives from his subordinates in Nod Krai. He’d been plotting stuff in Sumeru far longer than Childe had been alive.

“Yep.” Then, with a polite nod in Zhongli’s direction, she turned around. “I have stuff to get to. See ya.”

Paimon flew past Childe’s head at the speed of lightning. “Sharzad! Wait for us!”

Helios simply offered him a sigh, but he, too, bid them goodbye.

“Sooooo,” Childe said into the ensuing silence. “Lunch at Liuli Pavillion?”

~~~

Two hours earlier, Sharzad, Aether, and Paimon approached a certain old adeptus because Zhongli had given them a new task: fetch a Cleansing Bell from said adeptus. However, he did not tell them that Ping was an adeptus, which might become a problem when Aether found out and inevitably accused Sharzad of lying to him. Again.

Nabu let out a squeal the moment she caught sight of the, frankly, ancient woman standing by a table at the edge of Yujing Terrace. The woman, who wore a deep green dress in traditional Liyuean style and a shawl on top of it, continued pouring her tea as if she hadn’t heard anything.

Paimon was the first one to speak. “Excuse us—are you Madame Ping?”

“Mm? Youngsters, are you here to admire the flowers?” The woman turned, and her gaze almost immediately fell on Nabu. Despite the lines around her eyes, they were a bright shade of turquoise, and they widened considerably at the sight of the Goddess of Flowers. “It is only a shame . . .” she drifted off. To anyone else, she’d look like she was staring into space, but Sharzad knew that Ping was staring sadly at the Goddess of Flowers.

“Ping!” Nabu leapt forward in her excitement, pausing only after trying and failing to hug the old woman. “It’s good to see you!”

Sharzad couldn’t hold back her smile—Nabu’s joy was always infectious, and she seemed particularly happy to reunite with the adeptus in front of them. “Hello, Madame Ping. What is so shameful about admiring the flowers?”

“Only that the glaze lilies have disappeared as of late. So few bloom during the winter months, but even then . . .” she sighed, still staring at Nabu. “Back in my day, people said that glaze lilies could read human hearts. If they heard beautiful sounds like laughter and singing, they would also bloom joyfully. But if they heard too much wild gossip or slander, they would quickly wither away.”

“They were Guizhong’s favourites, do you remember?”

Swallowing, Sharzad held her hand out, forming one of the blue and white flowers between her fingertips. She rubbed a petal between two of her fingers. “I take it they’re reacting to what’s going on in Liyue?”

Ping turned to stare at the flower, but she didn’t comment on it. “Yes, the rumors of Rex Lapis' death are no small matter. They are everywhere.”

“Is it about how he died?” Paimon asked. “We were at the Rite of Descension, and everything happened so fast that nobody could tell what happened!”

“Hmm, yes. Some say it was a Fatui plot. Others say that the Qixing made it all up, and still others think that That Which Lies in the Deep is breaking free.”

This finally pulled a response from Deshret, who at this point had been hovering behind the group like a guard dog. “Osial.” He all but snarled. “We shall check the beaches when we can.”

Ping shook her head, clearly seeking to clear it from the sight of Deshret’s ghost. “Enough of this old woman’s ramblings. Can I help you youngsters with something?”

“We’re here for the Cleansing Bell,” Aether said immediately. Sharzad wondered if he was just happy to get back to business rather than dealing with mundane conversation. “For the Rite of Parting.”

The old adeptus would have no doubt commented on that, had Nabu not chosen to speak at the same moment Aether did. And given how what she said was particularly embarrassing, Sharzad thought it more important to listen to her.

“By the way, Ping, this is our heir, Sharzad!” The goddess cooed as she beamed at Sharzad. “She’s adorable, don’t you think?”

Sharzad fought back a whine. “Nabu, please, I’m supposed to be cool!”

Ping, doubtless realising that Sharzad could actually interact with Nabu, turned back to her friend, eyes wide and glistening. “You’re real.”

“As real as ghosts can be.”

“Forgive me for ignoring you, Nabu—I was quite certain that I was seeing things. My mind is not what it once was.”

“You old trickster!” But Nabu was still smiling. “Your mind is perfectly fine and you know it!”

“Hmm, I do.” Ping gestured in Sharzad’s direction. “Come here, child, let me take a good look at you.” A warm hand grasped hers the second she was within Ping’s reach. The glaze lily tumbled to the ground. “Strong, healthy, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, don’t you?”

Maybe it was because Ping looked like an old woman, but Sharzad’s brain immediately snapped into we are at the market and need to get good deals mode. “I hope so, auntie.”

Paimon let out a sharp sound of surprise. “ Eh?! This is your aunt?!”

That drew a laugh from Ping. “Not by blood, but perhaps thanks to an ancient friendship. Did you adopt this one, Nabu? I doubt anyone this polite could have inherited Amun’s genes.” Her nose wrinkled as she said the Sand King’s name, but it didn’t feel particularly angry. Rather, it seemed like Ping was teasing.

“Ha! She is more insolent than you can imagine, if you trust my husband’s words.”

“Then perhaps she is his descendant after all. Although . . . your other ancestors had some very powerful traits, little one, to hide Nabu’s blood so well. I thought you were mortal.”

Nabu shook her head. “She is not ours by blood, Ping. Only by virtue of deals made not so long ago.”

“Ah. That certainly explains why I have not heard of any kings in Sumeru.”

“I am king,” Deshret grumbled. “You have heard of me.”

“Hush, featherhead, I have not spoken to you.” Featherhead?! Despite having dropped the insulting nickname, Ping smiled serenely at Sharzad, Aether, and Paimon. “If it is the Cleansing Bell you seek, I am more than willing to aid you. But I must apologize—I need your help to fetch it.”

She gestured to the jade green ceramic teapot sitting on the table. It was decorated with delicately painted flowers and leaves, and while Sharzad expected smoke to rise from its spout, the teapot seemed empty.

Sharzad suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to ask about its craftsmanship (how many Akademiya scholars got to ask a real adeptus about their teapots! An ancient craft mostly lost to time!), but she carefully held her tongue. This was not the time to get carried away, no matter how much she wanted to ask about ceramics.

“A teapot?” Paimon asked.

“Weird, but okay,” Sharzad commented, saying the same thing she’d said the first time she played through this particular quest. Because who the fuck put their house in a teapot of all things?

Aether, being the only sane person among them, actually said something intelligent. “You’re an adeptus.”

Ping clicked her tongue. “You’re quite the smart young man.” She gestured to the teapot. “Well, how about it? Would it trouble you youngsters to fetch the Cleansing Bell for me?”

QUEST

The Realm Within

Touch Madame Ping's teapot

Sharzad turned to Aether. “Wanna join?”

He stared at her for a long moment, but he nodded, reaching a hand towards the teapot. Sharzad set her hand right next to his, noticing how the ceramic felt surprisingly warm for a pot (supposedly) devoid of hot tea.

Green smoke rose from the spout and swirled around Aether, Sharzad, and Paimon (who had flown close enough to touch the teapot as well).

There was a dizzying moment where the world seemed to condense and warp around Sharzad. Everything became tinted with green energy as colours dense into a mess of red tiles, white snow, and everything else in Liyue Harbor. Her other senses also seemed to warp, although it was considerably less confusing for the distant city sounds to blend together or the smells of fresh tea and glaze lilies creating a strangely floral mix she wouldn’t have minded drinking in a tea.

Then, she found herself standing on a stone platform surrounded by ginkgo trees. Cracks splintered in the floor, golden energy peeling out of them as if the entire floor was kintsugi from Inazuma. The surrounding landscape—besides the terrifying drop into cloudy nothingness—was composed of tall cliffs dominated by rushing waterfalls.

Taken aback by the sheer size of the area (and also slightly excited at the chance to use one of her favourite lines), Sharzad gasped. “Whoa . . . it’s bigger on the inside!”

Ping’s laughter echoed throughout the space. “The power of an adeptus, my dear. I do apologize for the amount of cobwebs, though. It has been a while since I’ve cleaned.”

~~~

About halfway through the afternoon, Sharzad returned to Madame Ping for a warm cup of tea and some conversation about Rex Lapis. Aether and Paimon agreed to join in, and so they found themselves seated outside, steaming cups of jasmine tea in hand.

“You’re asking about Rex Lapis? I would have thought that the featherhead would have told you about him by now.”

Deshret frowned. “Do not call me that.”

The old adeptus simply took a sip of her tea. “You are not the king here, nor am I bound to your will.”

“I am one of Sumeru’s eternal god-kings. I still have worshippers millennia after my death. You will address me with the proper respect or I will kill you where you stand.”

Sharzad’s eyes widened. “Jeez, Deshret, you weren’t even that harsh with me.”

Nabu giggled. “He and Ping have had an . . . amicable rivalry as long as they’ve known each other. He and Morax might have been friends, but some of his adepti objected to such an alliance, especially since Amun was offered the post of Archon immediately.”

“Ooooh. Yeah, that makes absolutely no sense.” She shrugged. “But you’re immortal gods so, you know, I’m not about to ask questions when it’ll prompt a twelve hour lecture covering varying events in ancient history.”

“But . . . you’re a historian,” Paimon said, brows furrowed. “Shouldn’t you like long lectures?”

Oh, hell no. Sure, there were professors at the Akademiya who were decent lecturers, but too many of them had monotone voices or strange hours or boring content. One particularly bad semester, Sharzad had thought she’d die of sheer boredom, as if her professors were slowly sapping her youthful energy to sustain their eternal life.

“Come to Sumeru, and I’ll have you sit in a two hour lecture with a professor that has a monotone voice.” Staring into her cup of tea, Sharzad clicked her tongue. “You’ll hate it . . . if you don’t fall asleep first.”

Madame Ping hummed. “This will be no such lecture. After all, Rex Lapis was a much greater ruler than anyone in Sumeru— he has lived among his people instead of isolating himself in his palace for generations.”

Deshret let out a snarl, only for it to be cut short by Nabu comically dragging him backwards, a hand covering her husband’s mouth.

Ignoring this, Ping continued. “In fact, you youngsters may have even heard that he has wandered among his people in the guise of strangers, seeking to learn from mortals rather than scorn them. He has learned many trades thanks to such disguises.”

Realizing that this was going to require notes, Sharzad pulled one of her journals from her Inventory, along with a pen, and then started writing stuff down. “Shapeshifting. Got it.”

“And he is the highest power in Liyue. Visit Guyun Stone Forest—there is no other god in Teyvat capable of sending down massive stone spears to fell his foes. He may be the god of commerce, but war should have also been his domain.”

Deshret broke free from Nabu’s hold just long enough to shout, “I defeated him in combat, you old hag! And when I possess Sharzad’s body, I will–”

Sharzad did a spit-take as Nabu Malikata—willowy, graceful Nabu Malikata—fully slammed her husband to the ground with the force of a wrestler. Deshret thrashed in her grip as she sat on top of him, calmly pinning his arms above his head.

Remembering Nabu’s more terrifying ideas for her powers and the fact that she was an Angel, Sharzad made a note in the margins of her journal to never piss off the Goddess of Flowers and underlined it three times for emphasis.

“Charming,” Ping drawled.

Paimon turned to stare behind her, but finding nothing there, turned back to Sharzad, eyes wide and confused. “What?! What happened?”

Sharzad kept staring at Nabu. “Nabu just body slammed Deshret to the ground.”

Even Aether looked surprised. “What?!”

“You keep talking!” Deshret turned into a bird, but Nabu snatched his leg before he could fly too far away. “Try not to insult Amun too much, Ping. You know how he gets.”

Ping chuckled. “I’m just reminding him to keep his place, Nabu. You indulged his ego for far too long. Now Rex Lapis–” and at that, she turned back to Sharzad. “–also had to be humbled from the rough days of his youth, but unlike Amun, actually held on to what Guizhong told him. A truly great–” she broke off again, voice rising to call. “–hello Ganyu!”

Sharzad turned back to find a woman standing close to where Nabu held a now jackal-shaped Deshret to her chest. The red and black horns sprouting from her cerulean hair immediately told Sharzad who it was. Her outfit contrasted as much as her horns and hair did, white and blue robes overlaying a black thing that resembled a bodysuit of some kind. Red ropes decorated the Cryo Vision sitting at her waist, knotted elegantly around its golden frame.

Ganyu reached a gloved hand for Nabu, freezing the second it inevitably passed through the Goddess of Flowers’ incorporeal body. She whispered something, and Nabu replied with a small nod, before gesturing towards the table.

“Is this another adeptus?” Paimon whispered.

“Ganyu is the Secretary for the Liyue Qixing,” Ping explained. “And a fellow adeptus.”

The conversation between the two horned immortals became audible as they approached.

Nabu was smiling while, in her arms, Deshret looked like the smuggest jackal in the universe. “Have you managed any conversation?”

“I have two notes,” Sharzad said. “What do you think of me chucking stone spears everywhere?”

“Absolutely not.” Deshret snapped, sounding pissed off despite how his wife was scratching his furry head. “I already know you will use that for chaos. You would be better off asking someone like Cloud Retainer for aid and advice than this trickster.”

Ping’s smile could definitely be described as a smirk. That did not look normal on an old lady’s face. “Don’t tell me you’re still salty about the catapult incident.”

“Cease the jokes. You threw me into the ocean!”

“Calm down, Amun. Not in front of Ganyu.”

Yeah, right. Ganyu. Who was clearly shaking from barely suppressed tears or panic or perhaps both at the sight of the ghosts.

“Oh, I should probably–” Sharzad cleared her throat. “–I’m Sharzad. These are Paimon and Helios.”

“This is our heir!” Nabu added brightly.

Ganyu’s eyes widened. “You had . . . you had children, jie-jie? I thought you didn’t want–” she coughed. “–sorry, I shouldn’t–that’s your private business, and . . .” she drifted off.

“It’s fine. You’re right, I’m not their kid. Or grandchild or descendant or whatever.” She glanced at Deshret. “Maybe I should get a sign since I’ve been getting that for years.”

“She might not be ours by blood, but she is our heir nonetheless, Ganyu, even if she neglects her full name or titles when she introduces herself.” It was really hard to tell if Deshret was smiling since he was a jackal, but she could hear it in his voice. “This is Sharzad Athari Taftazani, Envoy of the Scorned Gods and Crown Princess of the Great Red Sand.”

Notes:

A wild Childe pov appears! I did manage to finish this chapter (by panic-writing this morning to finish the last scene lol), and since I've been freed from attending classes for the semester, I should be writing more for the next few months. Hooray!

1) Fun fact: I picture Zhongli asking Sharzad "Did you threaten to stab Childe, Sharzad?" in the same tone as book-Dumbledore asking Harry if he put his name in the Goblet of Fire (hence the reference)

2) I made a list of all the adepti we know of and then had to make a chart about how their relationships with Deshret and Nabu are. I definitely think that some of them absolutely hate how Deshret was just offered the post of Archon while Liyue and the other nations saw countless battles for it, but it's settled into begrudging respect after a few thousand years. My theories about why Celestia offered Deshret the post of Archon, well . . . those are coming later, so I won't spoil :3

3) Kintsugi is a Japanese art of mending broken pottery with gold/silver dusted lacquer. It's the first thing I thought of when I first saw the inside of Ping's teapot three years ago

4) Sharzad references Doctor Who with the "It's bigger on the inside" line

5) The lecture thing is directly inspired by one of my biology professors last semester having the most monotone voice ever. Thanks for making my first semester of bio miserable

6) Since Ganyu was around during the Archon War, I thought she'd have met Nabu and Deshret; however, she's definitely on the younger side, so I think she was a teen at max when they met. Also she and Nabu are horn-buddies!

That's all, folks! I'm really hoping to work more on the Haikaveh fic sometime this week so I can start posting by Kaveh's birthday, but we'll see! I'm also thinking of doing fics for HSR (either Ratiorine or Jingheng) and Wriolette so it'll depend on whether I commit to either of those lol

Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos are appreciated :)

Also BREAKING NEWS: I have miraculously revived my Tumblr! Go pester me about this fic or life in general @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 7: Chapter II: A Retainer of Clouds

QUEST

A Retainer of Clouds

Travel to Mount Aocang

Their last stop for the Rite of Parting was finding some Everlasting Incense at Bubu Pharmacy.

So, after the Cleansing Bell shenanigans and tea-time with Madame Ping, they found themselves climbing the steps to the pharmacy. The place was larger than it was in-game, clearly home to more space and people than Genshin Impact ever gave it credit for (which could be said for literally everything else in Teyvat).

Its main storefront, however, was an enclosed area lined with dark wooden shelves filled with boxes and vials of various plant and animal material. Bundles of dried or drying herbs hung from the ceiling, giving the place a strange, overpowering smell. It was rather like the perfume stalls in Sumeru City when someone decided to test out every single one of the merchants’ wares, complete with Sharzad starting to get a headache.

And then—and then there was the fact that no one was there.

No one except Qiqi, that is. And to say that she was creepy was a gods-damned understatement.

Between the dead-eyed stare, thin skin so pale you could see all of her veins, and the stiff way she walked (accompanied by the sound of scraping and cracking bones), Sharzad could safely say that meeting a zombie made from an adult would have given her nightmares for the rest of her life. Thankfully, Qiqi was a child, and so she was only slightly less terrifying than zombies made from older people (probably) were. She had the benefit of being mildly cute, but in a very disconcerting way.

Meanwhile, Nabu seemed heavily torn between staying behind and fawning over the child, and Deshret just looked . . . not disappointed, but kind of sad? Like he pitied Qiqi or something.

“Welcome to Bubu Pharmacy. I am Qiqi.”

Fucking clearly, Sharzad thought, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything. Of course the little demon she’d lost so many 50/50s to looked like this!

“You’re a zombie!” Paimon exclaimed.

Qiqi nodded (Sharzad tried not to visibly wince at the sound of cracking vertebrae). “Yes. Once upon a time, Qiqi died. Then, Qiqi was saved by the adepti. Now, Qiqi is a zombie.”

Oof. What an amazing delivery for what Sharzad knew was quite the traumatic backstory. How wonderful. And creepy. Nope nope nope nope nope–

“Hello . . . little girl,” Zhongli said, supremely awkwardly. Christ, even he was disconcerted by Qiqi. What an accomplishment on the little zombie’s part. “Do you sell Everlasting Incense here?”

The zombie blinked sleepily at him. “Excuse me, sir. Did you bring your prescription?”

“. . . surely no prescription is needed to purchase Everlasting Incense? It's not a controlled substance.”

“Qiqi can get your medicine. But only if you show Qiqi your prescription. These are Qiqi's orders, from Qiqi.”

The third person stuff was getting annoying. And I thought Paimon’s third person stuff was bad. Jesus Christ.

Deshret hummed. “She ordered herself, how interesting.”

“Orders?” Aether asked at the same time.

“She must be bound to them,” Sharzad said. “Or I’d guess, anyway. I’m not exactly an expert on zombies. Do you know a way around it, Zhongli?”

“Hmm.” And then, Zhongli knelt at the zombie girl’s side, ensuring he was eye level with her. “I am afraid we did not bring a prescription, my dear, but we do hope you can still aid us find some Everlasting Incense.”

Qiqi tilted her head slightly. “Okay then.”

Sharzad winced at the sound of cracking bones. “It can’t be that easy.”

She couldn’t remember this part of Liyue’s quest, but it couldn’t be that easy. Nothing in Teyvat was that easy.

“But, Qiqi helps you, you help Qiqi. Only fair.”

She groaned. “There it is.”

Zhongli chuckled. Deriving amusement from her pain—lovely. “In Liyue, some transactions are made so that everybody wins. Trading a favour for information is quite normal.”

“Really sticking with the contracts business, I see.”

Deshret sighed. “Be polite, Sharzad.”

“Yes, fine, whatever.” She turned her attention to Qiqi. “What do we need to do for you, Qiqi?”

The zombie girl stared at her, eyes wide and pleading. “Go to Mount Tianheng. Find the Guizhong Ballista. And hunt a Cocogoat. Please and thank you.”

Well, at least the zombie was being polite when giving them an impossible task.

“Hunt a what now?” Aether asked.

“I–ooooooh.” Now she remembered what this quest was about. Running around in circles instead of acquiring coconut milk. “Are you sure it’s called a Cocogoat, Qiqi? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“The Cocogoat is a legendary animal,” Qiqi said blankly. “An adeptibeast.”

“It doesn’t exist,” Deshret confirmed. Sharzad was definitely more willing to trust the god of knowledge than the forgetful zombie child.

Sharzad frowned. “What do you want from the Cocogoat? Meat, fur, milk . . . ?”

“Cocogoat milk is tasty. Soooo tasty.” When Qiqi raised her arm to tap her chin, all Sharzad couldn’t hear was the sound of painfully rotating bones. Just . . . constant cracking and scraping, like her joints no longer worked the way they should. Nope. “Much better than normal goat milk. Only an adeptibeast could make such tasty milk.”

Deshret glared at Zhongli. “I know that face, Morax. Do not give in. There is no such thing as a cocogoat.”

Sharzad pretended to think for a long moment. “Coconut. Coconut milk is what you want.”

“Yes. That’s it. Get Qiqi some coconut milk. Please and thank you.”

~~~

Given the ease of their task, they safely secured the Everlasting Incense (without meeting Baizhu, surprisingly), and then reconvened by the altar. By this point, the sun was setting, staining the sky in shades of orange and pink as the stars began to peek out in the sky.

“The preparations for the Rite of Parting are nearly complete,” Zhongli told them. “At this point, you need not assist me any longer.”

Sharzad sighed. “By which you mean, it’s time for me to actively seek out the adepti, right?”

“Indeed.” Thankfully, Zhongli actually gave her further advice rather than just telling her what to do. How kind of him to actually tell her how to go about meeting the adepti. “I would recommend starting with the three peaks surrounding Huaguang Stone Forest. Cloud Retainer, Mountain Shaper, and Moon Carver are quite familiar with both Amun and Nabu Malikata.”

The three names brought a smile to Nabu’s face. “Oh, how lovely. They’re still alive! I’ve been meaning to ask Cloud Retainer for xiāntiàoqiáng!”

Sharzad blinked. “The recipe for what?”

“Recipe?!” Paimon exclaimed immediately. “Is there an adeptus of cooking?”

“Yes, a God of the Stove.” Zhongli frowned. “Unfortunately, Marchosius has been reduced to a mere fragment of his original power after using much of it to revitalize Liyue. Now, the people of this nation have merged his title with mine.”

This was apparently so hilarious that Deshret burst into full on cackling. “You, God of the Stove?! How amusing—I’ve seen you fail at cooking rice before!”

Once again, Sharzad blinked. “What.”

“He’s right,” Nabu mused, an amused smile on her lips. “He’d offered to help cook one day, when there were five of us—Amun, me, Morax, Guizhong, and Moon Carver—and this old dragon managed to simultaneously overcook and undercook his rice. He didn’t even wash it!”

He didn’t even—the FUCK?!

She gaped at Zhongli. The Archon of Liyue. The god of the nation that produced the most rice in Teyvat by a long shot cooked rice without washing it? “You don’t wash your rice?”

Hiding his mouth with his hand, Zhongli avoided her gaze. “I have learned since then.”

“I don’t—what the actual fuck.”

Staring into her hands, Sharzad tried to make sense of this.

Paimon let out a hesitant little laugh. “Um, Sharzad? Are you okay?”

After shaking her head to clear it, Sharzad sighed. “I guess.” She glanced at Nabu and Deshret, the latter of whom was still trying to stifle his laughter at Zhongli’s mortification. “So, we’ll head to Cloud Retainer’s first, I guess. Which of the mountains does she live on, exactly?”

Clearly relieved at the change in topic, Zhongli gestured vaguely northwest. “Her adeptal abode lies on Mount Aocang, amidst its highest peaks. She rarely ventures out these days, although I have heard that she is willing to entertain visitors—provided they bring offerings. Given you are so young, I have no doubts she will answer your questions and offer aid to hone your abilities further.”

“Oh?” Sharzad raised an eyebrow.

“Floating above her mountain is a place called the Dwelling in the Clouds.” Lazily trailing his fingers on the edge of the altar, Zhongli tilted his head. “It was initially for meditation, although it was eventually used by the adepti as the location of one of their many trials. Since few have sought to follow the path of the adepti in the last centuries, Cloud Retainer would no doubt be more than willing to offer you such a space—provided you use it to train, of course, and repay her in kind.”

“A contract, I’m guessing?”

“Exactly. Such an exchange is only fair.”

Sharzad nodded.

“The Dwelling in the Clouds was quite the spot.” Nabu walked to Sharzad’s side, sending her an encouraging smile. “You said you would like to focus more on my abilities, Sharzad. Since we have been too busy as of late to properly apply the newest training plan, what do you say to forgoing it in favor of trying something new?”

“I’m–” a lump rose in her throat, but she forced herself to stay steady. “–yeah. That works.”

Aether snapped to attention at the sound of her voice. Looks like I didn’t sound as confident as I wanted to be. “What’s going on?”

Sharzad paused, trying to explain in the simplest way: “Training stuff.”

“In the mountains?”

“I guess so.” She shrugged. “You two can stay here in the meantime, if you want. Unless you really want to meet more of the adepti. And Xiao again, I guess.”

Something flashed across Aether’s face—the briefest upturning of eyebrows and downturning of lips—before he held out a hand. “I’ll come along. We haven’t seen much of Liyue yet.”

~~~

The trip to Mount Aocang included having to walk through Huaguang Stone Forest. Strong winds cut through massive stone spires, making the wooden bridges connecting them sway over the mist below. Between the altitude and the more northern location, it was colder there than in the Harbor, forcing Sharzad to constantly warm the air around their little group to keep the temperature reasonable.

After making it to the edge of Mount Aocang, they then had to climb to reach the only functional path in the area, which took way more time than Sharzad was willing to admit.

Exhausted, dirty, and slightly terrified from the sheer cliffside and the potential drop below (though Sharzad was luckily less terrified thanks to Dvalin’s blessing), they followed a stone path all the way up to a mountaintop plateau.

A clear lake stretched out across most of the mountaintop, its surface reflecting the sky above and the occasional bird flying past. All manner of aquatic plants, including reeds and water lilies, covered the water’s surface near the edges, their stems brown and dried up from the winter’s chill. At the center of the lake was a small island bearing a tree and a stone table covered in snow.

Nabu bounded towards the table, skipping across the water’s surface as if she weighed nothing. Sharzad wondered if Nabu didn’t sink because of her powers or because she was a ghost. Physics seemed to apply to both her and Deshret most of the time, after all.

“Cloud Retainer!” she shouted. “It’s Nabu Malikata! And I brought Amun!”

Aether, being completely ignorant of Nabu’s yelling, glanced at Sharzad. “What now?”

“No idea. I think Nabu’s trying to summon her, but chances are we need to make an offering first.” Frowning, Sharzad tried to sort through the dishes she had in her inventory. “The question is, what food should we give her?”

“She has no real preference,” Deshret helpfully supplied. “Only that the flavour is good. Most of the adepti refuse to consume mortal pleasure.” His lips curled in distaste. “I do not understand such a choice, especially when mortals often present their best as offerings to deities.”

“Hmm. What would she think of pita pockets?”

“How do they taste? They are an invention from long after my demise.”

She shrugged. “Good. You know already that you can mix ingredients around, so I could make something Liyue-inspired for the filling? Or I could go with the usual Sumerian stuff if you think she might enjoy something new?”

“What about us?” Paimon asked. “We could make something!”

“That might help, to be honest. Do either of you have a recipe you can make?”

Aether nodded. “I asked for the recipe for the soup we ate a few days ago—the one with the tofu, lotus, and snapdragon in it.”

“Cool.” Sharzad clapped her hands. “Let’s get crack–”

The wind picked up suddenly, whistling as something descended from the sky and landed gracefully in front of them.

It was a crane, mostly white with subtle blue and gold markings on her feathers and wings. She was bigger than any normal bird, casting a large, intimidating shadow over Paimon, Aether, and Sharzad. “One senses the presence of two long-dead friends. Which of you bears the power of one’s noble friends?”

Sharzad gave a hesitant little wave. “Me.”

Deshret stepped forward, catching the crane’s attention with a dip of his head. “It is good to see you, Cloud Retainer.”

“You are here, Amun. How unexpected—one recalls hearing of your demise.”

“The reports of my death were greatly exaggerated in a number of ways. Nabu is with me as well, as you can see.” The Goddess of Flowers crossed the lake to join them. “And this mortal is Sharzad. Our heir.”

“Not your child, certainly.” The crane tilted her head to peer at Sharzad with a single, beady eye. “Did your parents abandon you, little one? How did you come across the remains of two gods? And how old are you?”

The unexpected onslaught of questions gave Sharzad one way to reply.

She froze. “What?”

Cloud Retainer leapt forward, her form morphing from bird to humanoid in one fluid movement. Her human form towered over Sharzad much like Morax did, and her black dress rustled as she stopped in front of Sharzad.

Paimon gasped, but the adeptus gave no sign of hearing her as she adjusted her red, rectangular glasses with a hand. Her black nails looked like talons under her black gloves. “You are clearly of no age to be out here alone. Why are you not at the Akademiya? It would have certainly accepted you, if Amun did. One does not believe he would settle for an unworthy, bumbling fool.”

She scratched the back of her neck, trying not to wince at the sound of her own hesitancy. “Oh, I . . . I already graduated two years ago. I’m even a Dastur now.”

Cloud Retainer’s turquoise eyes widened. “Graduated already . . . ahem. One must extend congratulations to you for such a feat.”

“Um, thank you?” She gestured to Aether and Paimon. “By the way, these two are Paimon and Helios. They’ve been my travelling companions since I was in Mondstadt.”

“Hmm, Mondstadt as well. What do you seek, if you have travelled so far from your desert home.”

Sharzad didn’t bother correcting Cloud Retainer about the desert thing. “I’m looking for information on Rex Lapis. The kind of stuff he did after Deshret and Nabu Malikata died.” She dug into her pocket and summoned the Sigil of Permission from her Inventory. Once it was in her grasp, she held it out to the adeptus. “I have this, if you need it.”

“A Sigil of Permission?” She frowned.  “This is—one sees that Rex Lapis is still alive.”

Nabu nodded. “Sharzad seeks a deal with him.”

“Ah. Is that how you gained your powers, Sharzad?”

“Yep, and now Morax decided that I should meet with the adepti to learn about his abilities.”

“Ah, and you came to one’s abode first. A very wise choice. One would be more than willing to supply you with knowledge, training, and a home where you shall be free to be a child. None should be burdened with quests and power at such a young age. Perhaps with a few years of training . . .”

Sharzad winced. “Um, not to be rude or anything, but I have parents. My dads just live in Sumeru.”

“I can assure you that they are quite a happy family, Cloud Retainer,” Nabu added. “They have a very healthy relationship. Sharzad simply has additional priorities, including her contract with Morax.”

Cloud Retainer stared at Sharzad for a long moment, probably deep in thought. “Ah, one understands. But perhaps you may still benefit from a rest and training, yes? If you seek out many of the adepti, it will take you longer than a day to speak with all of us, so you should stay on one’s mountain.” She nodded to herself. “Yes. Come now, all of you. One shall cook you a meal and tell you about Lord Lapis. Tomorrow, one shall assist you with your abilities and take you to Mount Hulao and Qingyun Peak so you may meet with Moon Carver and Mountain Shaper.” When she noticed that nobody had moved, Cloud Retainer turned to stare at them. “Come along. There is much to do before the sun sets.”

~~~

Aether startled awake at the sound of a strange, high-pitched call. It echoed across the mountain peaks and into the alley below, bouncing eerily through the landscape.

Carefully, he crept out of the sleeping bag Cloud Retainer set up for him (which she’d apparently invented or something), sneaking past Sharzad and Paimon’s sleeping shapes in order to get outside the cave. He didn’t see anything amiss with the lake on top of Mount Aocang, but upon hearing the call a second time, decided to investigate.

The night was cool, and the winds were considerably calmer than they’d been earlier that day. Clouds had begun gathering over the west, bringing with them the scent of incoming rain. Aether hoped it wouldn’t come too soon, especially as he climbed the rest of Mount Aocang—the part above the entrance to Cloud Retainer’s abode.

He was grateful for her hospitality, as it meant that they had a safe and dry place to stay for the next few days. Cloud Retainer seemed quite determined to mother all of them (save Deshret and Nabu Malikata, whom she clearly treated as old friends instead), and her meal had been a great example of fussing Italian grandmothers. Poor Sharzad seemed too polite to refuse the food the adeptus piled on top of her plate, but at least she took the comments about being too thin in stride.

The strange call echoed through the land again, much closer and clearer now that he’d climbed to the summit of Mount Aocang. The mournful sound sent a chill down his spine, and Aether couldn’t help but feel a strange sadness when he noticed that the call—a bird call of sorts—sounded strangely like crying.

Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground, bringing his knees up to his chest as he listened to the strange cries. Was it an adeptus, perhaps? Or a beast known only to Liyueans? Did it sound melancholic because of its feelings or because of its nature?

He shouldn’t have been up there, awake at whatever hour it was, but Aether had been struggling to make sense of his thoughts and experiences for the past few days.

Sharzad hadn’t directly lied to him since the whole Rex Lapis not being dead thing (at least, he thought so, anyway). She hadn’t lied to Childe, a Fatui Harbinger, about her identity, even if she probably should have, and she’d assisted Zhongli without demanding power from him immediately.

Xiao was wrong about her.

Which he’d already known, but the adeptus had sown a strange seed of doubt about her into his brain, and when she’d so clearly avoided addressing Rex Lapis’ “death,” Aether made a mistake and snapped.

I need to apologize to her.

He shivered at the sound of the bird call. Yeah, apologizing would be a good start. She’d made a deal with Morax that she couldn’t interfere with the Rite of Descension and the fake assassination, right? Her hands had been tied, and Aether pushed anyway.

If anything, he should be in trouble because he told Xiao about Rex Lapis still being alive. But Zhongli hadn’t even batted an eyelash the next morning, even after Aether spent the whole evening preparing himself to face the Wrath of the Rock, whatever the heck that was.

“Why are you not sleeping, young one?”

Aether jumped at the sound of Cloud Retainer’s voice. A glance sideways showed that she’d approached him in the guise of a bird, having abandoned the more human appearance she’d adopted upon seeing Sharzad.

“I couldn’t. Not with that–” the mysterious entity made its call again. “–that noise.”

“Ah. One forgets that most mortals are unused to the sounds of Alatus’ screams.”

“Those are . . . screams?”

“Cries, screams, or whatever other word you mortals use. Alatus comes here often to let out his frustrations and call for his fellow Yaksha.” Cloud Retainer shook her head. “The rest of them perished centuries ago, and Alatus is the only one who remains.”

“The Yaksha are adepti, right?”

“Indeed. Rex Lapis called upon many of them to cleanse the lands after the Archon War. But the toll of divine remains on their bodies was too great, and many of them succumbed to madness and had to be . . . relieved of their duties.”

Aether frowned. “You mean they were killed.”

The call sounded again. Aether absent-mindedly wondered if there was anything he could possibly do to alleviate the last Yaksha’s pain. Whoever this Alatus was.

“Yes. The death toll of the Archon War rose centuries after the final battle. In the end, there were no victors to that conflict—every combatant lost something or someone precious to them. Such are the costs of war.” Cloud Retainer sighed, before poking his shoulder with her wing. “It is late, Helios. You should return to bed.”

Notes:

Okay, this is way later in the day than I planned, but in my defense, I had to write entire second half of this chapter. Good news though: I only have three exams left and they're all at the end of the month, so I'll hopefully have more time to write in the coming weeks!

1) xiāntiàoqiáng is the Chinese name for Adeptus' Temptation, meaning "Adeptus Jumps Over the Wall." It's actually a reference to Buddha's Temptation, a real-life Chinese dish.

2) Marchosius is, of course, Guoba, but Zhongli does canonically have the title of God of the Stove after Marchosius was forgotten by the people of Liyue

3) The Dwelling in the Clouds is an actual location in Liyue. It's the floating platform unlocked after the three crane puzzle in the mountains belonging to the adepti

4) The final scene is inspired by earlier this morning when I went to check out how someone might get to the top of Mount Aocang in game (without teleporting). I heard the soundtrack "Bird Call From Afar" and thought that Xiao should get in on this. So now he's there, suffering, and Aether doesn't even know it's Xiao yet (because of the different names and also Aether doesn't know what the Yaksha were)

Hope you enjoyed this week's chapter! Next week, we'll be seeing more of the adepti and Sharzad training with Nabu :) Comments and kudos are appreciated as always!

Go pester me about this fic or life in general @anxiousphantom0 on Tumblr

Chapter 8: Chapter II: Fatui Fright

QUEST

Fatui Fright

Use your horns and ability Diluc: Hero’s Alibi to convince the Fatui that you are a deity

With her eyes closed and the gentle breeze tickling her face, Sharzad almost felt like she was floating in the sky. Just pure, untainted air and a surprisingly light amount of wind.

The mountaintop was foggy this morning, the clouds tinted pink and orange from the slowly rising sun. Even the high plateau where Cloud Retainer made her home was covered in mist, albeit a considerably lower amount than the valley below. Sharzad couldn’t even see the spires of Huaguang Stone Forest above the seemingly thick layer of white, which reminded her of white, fluffy cats with tails so thick they almost resembled feather dusters.

“Mountain Shaper will be hiding today.”

Cloud Retainer was in her human form again, her clothes the exact same they’d been yesterday—thin black dress, seafoam green cape, and hairpin. She wore heels, too, something Sharzad couldn’t understand since this was a mountain. But then again, the adeptus was also wearing thin clothes definitely not suited to the chill winds and low temperatures of a mountaintop.

By contrast, Sharzad had layered her clothes, substituting her skirt from the day before for a pair of warm pants (and tights underneath), which she tucked into her boots to prevent any snow from falling inside. Even with her powers from Deshret, she’d layered her shirts to keep her core warm, and her cloak hung comfortably around her shoulders, ready to be drawn tighter if the weather demanded it.

“Oh?”

“He despises this kind of weather.” The adeptus huffed. “One cannot say that one disagrees.”

Sharzad tilted her head slightly. “It can be kind of depressing, I guess. But we get this kind of mist all the time in Sumeru’s rainforest, so I’m used to it.”

“It is hotter there, at least.” Cloud Retainer gave her attire a once-over. “One is quite pleased that you own warm clothing, although one would not be against tailoring new garments for you.”

“You took the time to learn to sew?” Deshret’s nose wrinkled. “Truly?”

“Hmph. Four and a half millennia is more than enough time to learn new skills, Amun. One has delved into several trades after the end of the Archon War.” Cloud Retainer turned to face Sharzad, setting a taloned hand on her shoulder. Her eyes, framed by her glasses, slowly scanned Sharzad’s entire body, taking in the minute details of her outfit. Sharzad wondered if the adeptus was judging her pink and white colour scheme. “One has already invented a fabric impervious to cold or water—it remains dry in even the best circumstances. Perhaps one should take up such a project while you seek out Moon Carver.”

Sharzad waved a hand. “There’s no need to do that. Deshret gave me thermal manipulation during my last deal.”

To demonstrate this, she heated the air around them, handily clearly away part of the mist in the process. The snow at their feet vaporized quickly enough to become steam, only to vanish before even reaching Sharzad’s hips.

Cloud Retainer still looked unimpressed. “Nonsense. Proper clothing is only the first obstacle for any respectable warrior. Those will not serve you well should you need to swim, and such garments can certainly not withstand the perils of true battle.” She hummed. “Worry not. One shall take your measurements after our breakfast and work on your new items all day so you may have trustworthy and elegant clothing by nightfall.”

“Like I said, I don’t need–”

“Let her mother you,” Deshret told her sternly. “She has done this with countless others. You are only the latest in a long line of wayward children Cloud Retainer has decided to make her business.”

Wayward children? Mother me?

Sharzad blinked. “But, I don’t need a–”

Deshret already knew what she was going to say, and he cut her off with a stony look and crossed arms. “An aunt, then. A caretaker or whatever other word you wish to use.”

“What does that make you, my grandfather? Is this meant to be some weird divine family?” A sudden thought occurred to her, and she giggled. “Is Venti the drunk uncle?”

“Barbatos has no part in this.” Hand on his temple, Deshret sighed. “But, if this makes it easier for you . . . why not? I’m sure Nabu will be pleased, if she ever leaves your head today.”

They had a dream lesson the night before, and Nabu had clearly exhausted herself during an introduction to her oasis-related magic, which they were hoping to work through with the adepti later in the day. Not that there were oases in Liyue, but Nabu said her abilities might have minor effects on existing water sources, and Sharzad was curious to find out if this was true.

They stood there for another long moment before Cloud Retainer ruffled her wings. “One supposes that one should awaken your friends for breakfast,” she mused. “The Supreme Cuisine Machine should be nearly finished steaming the baozi for us.”

~~~

Sharzad knew that something was wrong with Aether when he yawned for the fifth time in three minutes.

They’d barely left Mount Aocang, having glided to the very edge of Qingyun Peak from the mountaintop. The mist had partially receded but remained rather thick, especially in the lowest parts of Jueyun Karst, so they could see maybe twenty feet ahead of them before everything became shrouded.

And Aether—Aether yawned five times in three minutes. That was not normal.

“You okay?”

“I–” Aether turned to stare at her, confusion evident in his pinched brows and the frown on his face. “–why do you ask?”

“You’re yawning a lot more than normal. I guess you didn’t sleep all that well last night?”

He shook his head. “Something kept me up. You didn’t hear the bird calls?”

Bird . . . calls? “What?”

Clearly, their third companion agreed with Sharzad’s perspective. “Paimon didn’t hear anything. What do you mean?”

“There was something—someone, actually, calling out last night. Cloud Retainer said that the being was a Yaksha called Alatus.” Aether tilted his head at her, and the widening of his eyes signalled that he’d clearly seen the recognition flash across her face. “You know who he is.”

Sharzad nodded. “Yeah, it’s Xiao.”

Xiao, who must have been calling out to the mountains last night. Xiao, whose cries could be heard when visiting Jueyun Karst at a particular hour in Genshin Impact. Xiao, whose cries had sent chills down her spine the first time she heard them when she played the game. Xiao, who was a reality now, no longer a fictional character but a being with feelings who did not trust Sharzad for whatever reason.

Aether’s eyes widened. “It’s—it’s Xiao?!”

“You didn’t know that he’s–”

Something red sparked in the mist. A single gunshot echoed through the landscape, bouncing off stone mountain faces in an ear-shattering blast.

“Watch out!” Deshret called.

Sharzad ducked, narrowly missing a red-hot something that came from just beyond the curtain of mist. By the time the thing passed her, it was considerably dimmer than it had been upon being shot.

Nabu disappeared into the mist to investigate what shot them.

Paimon gasped. “What was–”

Aether grabbed Paimon’s arm and dragged her to the ground. “Shh.” He stared, wide-eyed at Sharzad, hissing out a panicked question. “There are guns here?!”

Apparently, Aether didn’t know about that even if they’d encountered the Fatui before. Weird that he hadn’t noticed it yet, but maybe it was because the Fatui they’d fought were usually agents equipped with more traditional weaponry—poisoned daggers, swords, and other blades.

Sharzad nodded. After a moment of silence, she added aloud, “They’re mostly a Fontaine thing, but the Fatui use them too.”

“Fatui?” Aether whispered like he’d never heard the word before. “They have guns?”

“And a bunch of other very dangerous tech courtesy of Dottore. Nabu, what shot at us?”

The Goddess of Flowers looked rather annoyed as she emerged from the fog. “Four Fatui soldiers, all armed. Pyro, Electro, Cryo, and a commanding officer with some traces of Pyro energy.”

Sharzad had to bite her tongue to keep from groaning. Shit. Even if she didn’t remember fighting the Fatui skirmishers in the game (which, of course, she did because she did it for years and had to suffer through fighting against the Electro hammer guys without a strong Cryo character ), Sharzad knew enough about elemental reactions to understand that they were woefully unarmed against this particular group of enemies. Especially once they put their shields up, if the mechanics of the game applied to real life.

Which they probably did, knowing the System’s track record with things like unskippable cutscenes and gacha mechanics.

Aether tapped her shoulder. His expression seemed to ask: that bad? Paimon also looked worried, though she’d clamped her hands over her mouth to keep from talking. Good.

Sharzad nodded again. “I don’t know how to get past them, now they know we’re here,” she whispered.

“You could terrify them,” Nabu suggested, her voice soft and light as it always was. “Grow your horns and pretend you’re an adeptus.”

NEW QUEST

Fatui Fright

Use your horns and ability Diluc: Hero’s Alibi to convince the Fatui that you are a deity

Rewards: 5000 Mora, 10 Primogems, 100 Character EXP

Doing her best not to stare at the notification, Sharzad frowned. “That’s . . . hmmm. I can’t act, though.”

Nabu smiled encouragingly. “I have faith in you.”

“You have had lessons from me,” Deshret added. “Simply put them into practice.”

Sharzad swallowed. Their options were too limited right now to risk alerting the Fatui of their presence. It would probably be safer if they walked around the camp instead and avoided the Fatui at all costs. She was prepared to tell Aether and Paimon this when Deshret’s eyes widened.

“One of them is approaching!”

Not enough time.

She pushed herself to her feet, summoning her horns in the process. The still-foreign weight of the horns sprouting from her skull caused her to straighten her posture in an attempt to prevent any neck pain or further injury.

“Stay down,” she told Aether and Paimon before taking a step forward. “Hero’s Alibi.”

A mirage of red flames covered her body for a moment. Safe in the knowledge that, at least temporarily, Diluc’s friendship bonus would conceal her true identity from the person approaching, Sharzad breathed easier.

It was not a moment too soon, as the mist in front of her was suddenly taken over by the smell of ozone and a violently purple glow. A thickset figure stepped into her view, first a bulky shadow and then the shape of a man in purple clothes lined with white fur. He wore a sort of helmet and a mask that gave his eyes a purple glow, and in his hands was a large hammer marked with the symbol of Electro.

Fantastic.

“You have to talk, Sharzad,” Deshret prompted her.

But she had no idea what to say. What did you say when an Electro hammer guy spawned out of the mist on an adeptus’ mountaintop.

Thankfully, Hammer Guy spoke first: “Who goes there?”

Sharzad narrowed her eyes, hoping she looked satisfyingly divine. After asking herself how Deshret would speak to a trespassing human, she replied: “Answer first, mortal. You are the one trespassing on sacred land, not I.”

“You’re one of the adepti!”

She hummed. “Who are you, mortal? You are fortunate that this mist shrouded the mountaintop from my gaze for so long, otherwise you and your compatriots would have been strangled by flowers before you even awoke.”

To prove her point, Sharzad grew a thorn-covered quince stem, complete with vibrant crimson flowers, around the Fatuus’ legs, curling them up towards his torso. She heard a faint huff of amusement from Deshret.

Nabu, however, looked delighted. “You’ve been paying attention to my tactics!”

Hammer Guy, unsurprisingly, did not yet look all that terrified. “The adepti are sworn to protect Liyue and its residents. You would not kill anyone on your mountains unless they endangered your nation.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her voice changed when she began channelling her power at the same time she spoke. “I am no adeptus, mortal, and I have faced much deadlier than you.” Tilting her head, she continued, “Besides, saying you did not endanger anyone? You would have not hesitated to shoot me dead had I been mortal.”

The vines twisted higher, growing up to the Fatuus’ shoulders before circling his arms instead. Clumps of white fur fell to the ground, shorn by the wicked thorns growing amidst the quince flowers.

When the plants began circling closer to Hammer Guy’s throat, he finally began looking a little nervous. Still, he gripped his hammer tightly, causing lightning to spark across the metal. “I’ll report this to my superior, you know! Tartaglia is extremely powerful and not to be messed with!”

This guy is one of Childe’s? What are he and his team even doing on the mountain?

After wondering this, the rest of the statement caught up to her, and she snorted a laugh. “Tartaglia? The Eleventh? I tore off your eighth Harbinger’s arm, and I wasn’t even at full strength.” Smiling, she stopped growing the plants for a moment, letting her voice settle at its normal, not-divine tone. “Nah, I’d win.”

With her eyes closed and some fantastic boss music. She knew the Golden House fight so well that she once could predict all of Childe’s moves before he did them.

Her statement seemed to intimidate Hammer Guy further, although the quince wrapped around his body and weapon were probably doing most of the heavy lifting.

Stepping forward, she summoned Sunfire’s Scourge. The sound of the flail’s three beaded tails clicking against one another seemed extra loud in the mist-shrouded landscape. “I’ll say this just once. You have two options, trespasser: stay here and face me, or take your three compatriots and flee this sacred mountain. Your presence is unwelcome.”

They had a staredown for all of two seconds. The glowing purple dots marking Hammer Guy’s eyes widened as they maintained eye contact, widening still when the call of another, slightly higher male voice echoed through the mist.

“Anatoliy! What’s going on over there?”

And out stepped someone new: a slim individual, dressed in red with white furs. They (he?) wore a hat similar to a top hat, and his face was so bandaged it appeared white. Nice to know the Fatui were colour coded.

The Pyro gunman raised his rifle at the sight of Sharzad. “Who are you?”

“Someone not to be trifled with,” Sharzad said firmly. “I would suggest leaving this mountain before you and your comrades perish. Take a look at your friend—Anatoliy, wasn’t it?”

The gunman kept his weapon trained on her, clearly hesitant to move his head even an inch. But just a glance out of his periphery was enough to glimpse the cocoon of vibrant flowers and thorny vines encasing all but Hammer Guy’s head.

“I will free him, of course,.” Hoping to look intimidating, Sharzad shifted her grip on Sunfire’s Scourge, setting the butt end of the weapon on the ground. “But under the condition that you two—and your two other friends, of course—leave this mountain now.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Hmm. That depends. Have you thought about what flowers you want on your grave?” Out of the corner of her eye, Sharzad watched Deshret’s eyes widen, before he shifted his stance and expression into something vaguely resembling approval. “Because that will be swiftly arranged.”

To prove her point, she created pink roses around the Pyro gunman’s rifle.

There was a single, tense moment where the gunman watched the roses grow across his weapon. Despite the mask, Sharzad could sense his growing horror, especially when the flowering vines began creeping up his arms.

He dropped his weapon as if it burst into flames. “What–?” his voice came out as a fearful whisper, mouth wide as he returned his attention to Sharzad and, if the angle of his gaze was to be believed, the horns growing from her head.

Sharzad snapped her fingers, destroying the flowers constraining Hammer Guy. Her voice once again took on the sound of the divine as she uttered a single command: “Run.”

Both Fatui scrambled away, the Pyro gunman taking an extra second to snatch his weapon before racing off. Sharzad relaxed her posture the moment they vanished in the mist, sighing out the accumulated tension in her body.

The System sent out another notification:

QUEST

Fatui Fright

Complete

Rewards: 5000 Mora, 10 Primogems, 100 Character EXP

Still, she waited until Deshret entered the mist to check on the Fatui before speaking up. It was only once he returned to say that the Fatui had packed up camp and left that she turned to Aether and Paimon.

“We’re clear.”

Aether and Paimon looked at her, wide eyed.

“Are you an adeptus?” Paimon asked. She looked worriedly from side to side. “Ooh, where’s Sharzad when you need her?”

“I’m right–” she blinked. “–right.” The Hero’s Alibi ability concealed her identity from everyone who saw her, even if they witnessed her activating the ability. Oops. “How do I . . . Hero’s Alibi, deactivate.”

The sheen of crimson flame returned for a moment, seemingly washing the ability off her body.

“There, here I am.”

Paimon flew towards her, sighing in relief. “Sharzad! Where was that adeptus just now?”

“Paimon . . . I think she was that adeptus.” Aether’s relaxed stance contrasted heavily with his concerned expression. “Is that how you threatened Diluc into giving you the wine?”

“I already told you: I didn’t threaten him for the wine!”

“But you threatened him at some point, right?”

Sharzad shrugged. “Well, technically, Nabu’s the one who threatened him.”

Aether raised an eyebrow. “Not helping your argument.”

“I–” Understanding that they would get nowhere with this, she sighed. “–fuck it. Come on—we have an adeptus to meet.”

~~~

By the time they ascended Qingyun Peak, the world warmed enough to dissipate a decent chunk of the mist. While the central part of the region was still covered in fog—blame the three mountains surrounding it—the higher parts of Qingyun Peak were bare. Sharzad soaked in the sunlight with a happy sigh, thankful to be out of the mist for the first time since they’d left Mount Aocang that morning.

Deshret and Nabu, of course, had spent the last part of the trek reveling in Sharzad’s apparently terrifying (by mortal standards) display against the Fatui.

“We will review vocabulary, but that was quite satisfying for an initial attempt.” Deshret still wore a satisfied expression. “And adapting your wardrobe will also help.”

Sharzad winced. “Please don’t encourage Cloud Retainer.”

“I’m sure her clothes are lovely, Sharzad.”

“I’m sure they are—have you seen her outfit?” She sighed. “I just—I’m perfectly comfortable with what I have now, and there’s absolutely no doubt that I’ll need some bullshit ceremonial armor sooner or later because that’s what Deshret wears–”

“So rude,” Deshret huffed. “My armor is quite practical, thank you very much.”

“–and I’ll sound like an entire kitchen walking around in anything vaguely plated, anyway. How the fuck am I supposed to be intimidating in that case?”

“You should still have some armor,” Aether commented, surprisingly on topic for someone unaware of the two ghost gods.

Sharzad shot him a look that hopefully translated as really? “Bold words from the guy wearing a crop top.”

In response, Aether gestured to several parts of his body. “Breastplate, knee guards, reinforced boots, and reinforced gloves. The crop top is there because it looks cool.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s one way to put it. What about a helmet?”

“The laws of the universe dictate that I must show my face at all times.”

Sharzad snorted. “Why? Because you’re the main character?”

“Exactly.”

I wonder how he’d react if I told him he’s actually the protagonist of a game I—nope. Not entertaining that thought.

Sighing again, Sharzad returned her attention to their surroundings, which were devoid of any signs of Moon Carver. Trees lined the stone path leading to the adeptus’ sealed abode, occasionally accompanied by white banners covered in Liyuean writing that looked absolutely ancient. Lanterns hung from the bare trees, swinging slightly in the wind. Nearby, a space of bare land extended, jutting just far enough that they could see the true peak of Qingyun Peak extending into the sky.

“Guess I’ll have to summon him or something.” Reaching into her pocket, Sharzad summoned the Sigil of Permission, bringing it out so she could hold it to the sky. “Moon Carver, we’ve come here at the behest of both Rex Lapis and Cloud Retainer. And I have two old friends who would like to reunite with you!”

Dead silence ensued for a long, long moment. And then–

A deep, deep voice sounded behind her. “Who are you, mortals, to call upon one directly?”

The speaker, Sharzad discovered upon turning around, was a massive stag mostly coloured in browns, reds, and greens like maple leaves in autumn. Its brown horns curled into points glowing orange-red, and its eyes were entirely yellow with no pupils or irises to be seen.

“Hello, Moon Carver,” Sharzad said, offering a nod in greeting. “These are my friends, Helios and his Paimon. And I’m Sharzad, Crown Princess of the Great Red Sand.”

It felt strange to announce those words for herself. She’d done so before, of course, but never during her initial introduction to someone. Hopefully, Deshret and Nabu approved of how she phrased it.

“A descendant of the gods Amun and Nabu Malikata.” The stag gestured towards Sharzad’s horns with his head. “Welcome to Liyue.”

“Not a descendant of ours, Moon Carver,” Nabu piped up once her ghost materialized. “Though I can certainly see where you’re coming from. Not many mortals have horns, and I am certain you can sense my and Amun’s power as Cloud Retainer did.”

If Moon Carver was surprised, it didn’t show on his face nor in his voice. “It has been too long, Nabu Malikata. Is Amun with you?”

Deshret appeared immediately, offering a curt nod much like Sharzad had. “Hello.”

“Amun, how wonderful. Mountain Shaper will be pleased.”

Sharzad blinked. “Wait, why?”

“Beyond both their preferred animal forms being birds, the two share a thirst for knowledge and a passion for guarding their homes from intruders with all manner of natural and invented defenses.”

There was a moment where Sharzad did her very best not to burst out laughing at the sudden mental image of Deshret organizing Home Alone style defenses for his now-lost palace.

Paimon made it even more difficult: “Paimon is so confused. What?”

Moon Carver swiftly offered his reply, this time with a noise that sounded almost like an amused chuckle. “Mountain Shaper covered Mount Hulao in karst crawlers to entrapt would-be trespassers in amber. In Amun’s case, one is aware of some interesting automatons being used to guard temples, tombs, and other sacred spaces from human invaders.”

“Ooooh, right,” Sharzad said, still trying to keep herself from laughing. Turning to Deshret, she crossed her arms. “The Primal Constructs you love so much. Do you know how miserable you made my early excavations of your stuff, Deshret?”

“I am very aware, seeing as I witnessed you combating them several times. Including at the entrance to my library, with that arrogant woman who calls herself your mentor—Faruzan, isn’t it?”

Stuck on autopilot, Sharzad nodded again, only to freeze in place. “You saw—I think I remember having a dream when I got knocked out—that was serious?!” She jabbed her finger at Deshret’s ghost. “I can’t even remember the specifics, but I know you insulted me!”

The Sand King didn’t even flinch.

“As he did for a while afterwards,” Nabu reminded her gently. “Amun is working to right those wrongs, Sharzad.”

“I’m well aware,” she deadpanned.

“Context, please?” Aether asked.

“Deshret spent years insulting me, but he’s been working on himself.”

Aether frowned at her. “Do the ghosts have a therapist?”

How would that even work? A third ghost? One of the two being the therapist? Sharzad couldn’t imagine either of her godly patrons being a therapist on the side, what with Deshret’s brash nature and general lack of emotional intelligence and Nabu’s surprising tendency to encourage murder (or flower-based torture worse than murder) at several inconveniences.

Ghost therapist.

Sharzad snorted. “That’s funny. Anyways–” turning her attention to Moon Carver, Sharzad held up the Sigil of Permission to the adeptus. “–we’re here to ask about Rex Lapis. And also maybe to use the Dwelling in the Clouds, if it’s possible to access.”

“A Sigil of Permission,” Moon Carver rumbled. “Many a season has passed since one was last in the presence of such an item. And this one is–” stepping forward, Moon Carver extended his neck to give the item a curious sniff. “–recent. It would appear that Rex Lapis is not as dead as Liyue was led to believe.”

“Cloud Retainer said the same thing. I guess you can tell when he made them, right?”

Moon Carver nodded. “Indeed, although this one additionally has your name inscribed into it, princess. Interesting that it does not bear a formal name in addition to your true name.”

“We are working on it,” Deshret said firmly. “I have ideas we must discuss sometime soon.”

Moon Carver nodded slowly and, upon realising that Aether and Paimon were deeply confused, gazed at them. “One must apologize. It seems you both have been missing pieces of our conversation, have you not?”

“That’s okay. We’re used to it.” Paimon turned to Sharzad, arms behind her back. “Are you really getting a formal name, Sharzad?”

She shrugged. “Eventually. Right now, though, I’d like to hear more about Rex Lapis, if you don’t mind, Moon Carver. Madame Ping spent the entire time trying to piss Deshret off, and Cloud Retainer focused on his early governance of Liyue. To be honest, I think she was trying to subtly advise me to avoid becoming the desert’s queen until I’m fifty which, fair, but I’m supposed to be learning about Morax’s powers.”

“Why would that be?”

“I’m making a deal with him soon,” Sharzad explained. “Like I did with these two–” she gestured at Nabu and Deshret. “–and the dragon Dvalin from Mondstadt.”

“Hmm. And yet you do not approach the adepti for the same purpose.”

Sharzad contemplated this for a moment, reminding herself that the System hadn’t been pinging her with the godsense messages whenever she was close to the adepti.

“None of you have felt the call towards me, so I don’t think you can make deals for power with me.” Again, she shrugged. “Now, more normal exchanges might be a different situation, but to be honest, Cloud Retainer’s so set on mothering me that I don’t think there is anything the rest of you can offer me.”

Moon Carver chuckled. “One is not surprised to hear of Cloud Retainer’s decision. Many of the adepti’s ranks are her former wards, after all.”

“Really?” Paimon asked. “She’s adopted that many people?”

“One is certain you noticed how quickly Cloud Retainer latches on to any young one with too much responsibility on their shoulders and no clear parental figures.” Moon Carver nodded his horned head towards Sharzad. “You must have been a perfect target, princess, especially if Amun and Nabu acknowledged that you are not theirs by blood.”

“Even if I do have parents,” Sharzad added.

That brought on another chuckle. “As do most beings, even Rex Lapis, although one is certain that is not what you wish to learn about him.”

Sharzad huffed. “Yeah, no. Tell me about his powers—or his battles. What exactly can Rex Lapis do?”

Notes:

In today's episode, Cloud Retainer continues to adopt Sharzad while our gremlin protagonist scares the shit out of several Fatui soldiers :)

1) I always love an Archon family dynamic, even if it's probably impossible in this fic due to the lore. Sharzad's still going to end up with a bunch of honorary aunts and uncles though, especially if people keep mistaking her for Deshret and Nabu's actual child/grandchild/descendant

2) We get to see Diluc: Hero's Alibi in use! The skill gives Sharzad the ability to conceal her true identity from anyone for up to one (1) hour, giving her the chance to act anonymously. I thought it would fit Diluc's Darknight Hero stuff and be more interesting than simply giving her fire powers or bartending skills (the second is kind of funny though)

3) The species of quince Sharzad summons is specifically called the Japanese quince, which is an ornamental plant grown for its flowers rather than its fruits like the quince native to Iran and common around the Mediterranean

That's all for notes today since this was mostly an action-packed chapter. I know I said last week that we'd be seeing training with Nabu but the plot got away from me lol

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated :)

Go pester me about this fic or life in general @anxiousphantom0 on Tumblr

Chapter 9: Chapter II: Mountaintop Lessons

QUEST

Mountaintop Lessons

Learn how to control water with Nabu Malikata

“Long ago, the immortals of Liyue lived together in harmony, but everything changed when Celestia sparked the Archon War and everyone attacked each other.”

Moon Carver began his tale about Rex Lapis in a manner so familiar to Sharzad that she had to bite her tongue until the iron tang of blood filled her mouth to keep from making a joke referencing a piece of media she was . . . quite familiar with.

Don’t joke don’t joke don’t joke don’t joke.

“One first met Rex Lapis a few centuries into the conflict. He was building up the forces necessary to defeat one of the deities of the north, who had recently encroached in Rex Lapis’ territory. Even before receiving his Gnosis, our Archon wielded immense power, and while his proficiency in armed combat cannot be denied, his true strength lay in his control over Geo.”

“So, he was an earth god even before he became the Archon?” Paimon asked. “What if he wasn’t? Would he still be the God of Geo?”

“Do not ask one about the Gnoses, princess. They are a secret privy to the Archons and the Heavens themselves.”

“Should’ve accepted the Dendro Gnosis just to study it,” Deshret mumbled, his voice just barely loud enough for Sharzad to hear it.

She snorted a laugh, but composed herself immediately afterwards. Clearing her throat, she sheepishly avoided Moon Carver’s gaze. “Sorry. Deshret’s being weird.” She straightened her posture, playing with the edge of her sleeve to keep her hands busy. “But, um, what could Morax do, exactly? Deshret and Nabu haven’t really specified beyond comments about Morax and Deshret’s duels ‘leveling mountains.’ Whatever that means.”

Moon Carver didn’t even stop to think about his response. “Beyond simply destroying mountains, he can do the reverse, as Rex Lapis grew several of Liyue’s modern mountains himself. The landscape of the Land of Geo has changed considerably over its history, a pattern dating from long before one became an adeptus. Amun himself was certainly responsible for the lack of mountains in some areas of Liyue—one has no doubts about that.”

Sharzad fought back an exasperated sigh. Great to know that Deshret and Nabu weren’t kidding about that stuff. It probably meant that Deshret and Morax’s spars had been carried out without regard for the surrounding environment. Had Deshret been dissolving mountains into sand? Had Morax been creating mountain peaks out of nowhere so he could gouge out endless ammo to throw at his opponent? Was Morax expecting her to ask for such power?

Probably not, right? The ability to create mountains out of thin air would be wasted on her.

Now, meteorites or some other form of endless ammo might actually be a good thing for combat-related scenarios . . . or maybe Morax could give her some way to magnetise her limbs for climbing or a shield–

“Pay attention!” Deshret hissed.

Sharzad jumped, zoning back in immediately. Moon Carver hadn’t even noticed her lapse in concentration.

“. . . must admit that Rex Lapis’ technique in the early Archon War was certainly not as– ahem– refined, or perhaps creative as he eventually became, as he preferred attacking with his element rather than introducing defensive or preventative techniques like shielding or petrification. But Guizhong helped him realise that summoning meteorites could not possibly be the solution to every conflict, and so Rex Lapis adjusted his tactics. He became a god of protection.”

“I suggested he do something with his opponents’ bones.” Though she was busy staring at the Venus flytrap suddenly growing in her palm, Nabu sighed like she had seen something of great disappointment. “But he objected on the grounds that Guizhong disapproved.”

“Battle is useless and unfair if your opponents cannot fight back, my lily.”

Nabu’s flytrap snapped shut in Deshret’s direction. “Do not debate this with me.” Stroking the top of the flytrap’s head with a finger, she turned to gaze at her husband. “We have had millennia to settle this and neither of us has wavered.”

“Stubborn as always.” But Deshret sounded fond. A little lovesick, if anything.

Disgusting, Sharzad thought as Moon Carver helpfully relayed the exchange to Aether and Paimon.

“Where is she?” Aether asked, before staring at the spot Sharzad pointed at. “With all due respect, that is deeply unhinged. I see where Sharzad gets it from.”

In her surprise, Sharzad’s mouth dropped open. “I am not unhinged!”

“Deeply horrifying, then,” the blond offered.

As Sharzad reached for her belt, Deshret eyed her suspiciously. “I would suggest you refrain from pulling out a dagger, lest you prove his point.”

Faltering, Sharzad quickly abandoned her idea. “I hate how right you are sometimes.”

“I am a god of knowledge. It is my duty to be correct.”

~~~

“When you said it’s your duty to be correct, did that also cover my powers?”

Less than thirty minutes after Deshret’s statement, Sharzad climbed to the Dwelling in the Clouds, made a cup of tea (courtesy of a quick fire and some tea leaves Moon Carver had on hand thanks to the people leaving offerings on his mountain), and then spent nearly an hour trying and failing to meditate her way into controlling the aforementioned tea.

At this point, the vapor rising from the cup had disappeared, as if the delicate, hand-painted porcelain wished to mock her for her failure to do absolutely anything to the tea inside.

Stay calm, clear your mind.

Meditation was considerably harder here than it had ever been in Sharzad’s old world. You couldn’t turn on a playlist to help out and, to be honest, the background music of Jueyun Karst was not helping her calm down since its main melody had been turned into a meme song about pulling a Qiqi.

So, Sharzad did the smart thing and turned off the background music, which actually helped her clear her mind.

This lasted all of thirty seconds, until she suddenly became very distracted by a stray hawk flying through the sky and promptly lost whatever clarity her mind reached.

“Patience,” Deshret told her. “No deity in Teyvat’s history has simply wished for their abilities and promptly manifested them. Even you have had to hone your abilities for years. Just like everything else, this will take time. Right now, clear your mind and focus.”

Sharzad dragged her eyes away from the bird. “I’m trying,” she whined (although she was secretly thankful for Deshret keeping her on track). “But it’s been an hour and we’ve gotten nowhere! This tea isn’t budging!”

Nabu reached over to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, which Sharzad did not feel because, as usual, the Goddess of Flowers was a ghost and thus intangible. “In your defense, the last time you manipulated water, I was possessing you.”

Huffing, Sharzad crossed her arms. “Yeah, and I got a nosebleed right after because you summoned an entire oasis.” She sighed. “Maybe it’s because it’s Liyuean and not from the desert, or something.”

“I was perfectly capable of manipulating water beyond the desert.” Arms crossed, Nabu frowned at the teacup. “So long as it was freshwater flowing from a natural source . . .”

“This is tea.”

“It remains freshwater.”

“Technically, it’s not water anymore. It’s tea.”

Her entire point was based on semantics, but Sharzad had spent the better part of an hour trying and failing to meditate her way into what was basically waterbending, and she’d had enough. If the powers she got from Nabu Malikata were going to obey bullshit rules, Sharzad was going to be petty right back. Because she was annoyed, like any reasonable person should be.

At the sound of Deshret’s scoff, Sharzad could immediately tell that he was about to complain about something. “You sound like every creature of Hydro that has attempted to ingest human goods. Damned purists, all of them.”

Oh. That’s better than what I thought he was going to say.

Sharzad fought back a smile at the memory of Neuvillette’s many voice lines about different kinds of water. “Not a water person?”

“I prefer to grace my tongue with actual flavour, Sharzad. I am certain you agree.” He rubbed circles into his temples, letting out a small, exasperated sigh. “But perhaps your suggestion has merit. Your powers have clearly retained the logic they used when Nabu and I were alive rather than adapting to your mindset. Perhaps sticking to the logic of Nabu’s flora-oriented abilities was not the way to go about this.”

“You think?”

Deshret didn’t even dignify her statement with an answer. The utter disrespect.

Instead, he turned his attention to his wife. “What do you recall of your abilities? What do you do to use them?”

“I don’t think I can help,” Nabu said dejectedly. Her entire body seemed to wilt, like a flower kept from the sun for too long. Despite her annoyance at her failure to do anything to the tea, Sharzad couldn’t help but ache at the sight of the goddess’ melancholy. “I learned how to manipulate freshwater when I was a fully ascended Angel. I do not have memories of that time, nor can I analyze the process of using them.” She turned towards Sharzad, eyes glimmering sadly. “I am sorry I cannot aid you more, Sharzad, but what little remains of my original connection to freshwater has been diminished from a conscious process to an instinct as uncontrollable as a human heartbeat. What the heavens took from me is not something I can easily remember, nor can I share it with you.”

Sharzad offered a nod to show that she understood, glancing to the side to see how the Sand King would react.

To his credit, Deshret didn’t raise his voice, nor did he pressure his wife to try and search her memories. Sharzad wondered if they had tried this before and failed miserably at recalling something of importance. With Nabu being an Angel, it would not surprise her to discover that they had once conspired to use Nabu’s memories to learn about the Heavenly Principles’ weaknesses.

“Every day, I learn more of what the heavens have stolen from you. Your memories, your true name, your full power . . .” He approached Nabu and embraced her, only turning to Sharzad once his wife returned the gesture, burying her face in Deshret’s shoulder in the process. “What she has lost is something we shall discuss later, if Nabu is amenable to sharing. It is not my place to tell you of her suffering.”

“I understand.” Sharzad breathed out a puff of air. “Should we leave this for later, maybe? I don’t think we’ll get anywhere today, and even if I’m fine, you two clearly aren’t.”

“I am fine.”

Sharzad tilted her head. “Maybe on the outside, but I’m sure the last few weeks have been mentally exhausting for you both, Deshret. The endless reunions, the reminiscing accompanying them, the conversations afterwards where you two reveal more of your pasts to me . . . it can’t be healthy to pretend everything is fine for that long.” She watched Deshret’s grip around Nabu tense slightly. “You might be gods, but you have feelings too. I can see them, you know, especially when you start talking about your pasts.”

Like the ruin of Deshret’s kingdom. Like the pain their most devout worshippers had gone through. Like the Fall of the Angels. Like the Archon War. Thousands of years, a lifetime beyond anything Sharzad could imagine. Deshret was born into war, Nabu thrown into it with her memories and powers—and if Sharzad heard Deshret correctly, even her name— stolen from her. Whatever they’d been through was probably horrifying beyond measure, and whatever survived in myths was likely a warped representation of reality. Whatever that reality actually was.

They stood in silence for a long moment, the wind their only company amidst silent breaths.

“Our past is . . . complicated,” Deshret said finally. His voice was probably the softest Sharzad had ever heard it be, but in the empty silence of the Dwelling in the Clouds, it easily reached her ears. “As it is for any immortal as old as we are. It is why we learn to compartmentalize, to confront the parts that anger or frustrate or sadden us in the privacy of our homes. When I ruled the desert, there would be days where Nabu and I would remain in my chambers, refusing to leave until we addressed the problems haunting our memories or plaguing our present.”

A lump formed in her throat as Sharzad (against her will) imagined Deshret pacing in a private, but ornate, bedroom, accompanied by his wife and endless missives from his subjects as he and Nabu debated problem after problem. What had they endured after centuries of war? Sharzad knew from history that conquering the desert did not guarantee peace afterwards, and, knowing the real Deshret, she fully believed that he would have dedicated every breath to ensuring his kingdom ran properly. Be it plague or armies or rebellions—he would attend to it.

Was that what her future looked like? Endless dilemmas? Panicking in private while pretending to be confident, regal, and everything a queen was in public? Could she convincingly act in such a manner?

“We have had centuries to accept our fates, but it is as you say–” Deshret sighed. “–we experience emotion as much as any human. We have regrets, but there are things we cannot change, and it is best not to contemplate what may have happened if we made different choices. We can only reflect on the memories shared among old friends and do our best to help our fragmented legacies live on.”

The way Deshret looked at her made her insides squirm uncomfortably. He wasn’t expectant now, just . . . sad. Resigned to their present—to training Sharzad and ensuring she fulfilled her end of her deals. “Which is why I’m here,” she whispered. Legacies. Like me being his heir instead of their actual children, if they even had any. “But, what about your childr–”

Somehow, that dragged an amused huff out of the Sand King. “What did I just tell you, Sharzad?”

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed. “Don’t contemplate the past.”

Deshret watched her for a moment, before turning his attention to Nabu, who had lightly tapped his shoulder. They had a whispered conversation, words flowing back and forth until, eventually, Deshret gave a little nod.

Nabu peeled herself away from her husband and joined Sharzad, kneeling in front of her so they held slightly more comfortable eye contact. She placed her ghostly hands on Sharzad’s. “I know you wish to ask about our children, but I must be honest with you, Sharzad. Despite what some Eremites will have you believe, Amun and I did not sire any heirs. It was too dangerous. Neither of us wished to doom a child—especially a young deity—to live in fear of the heavens harming them for the crime of being our flesh and blood.”

“So then why have the adepti been asking about that? Even Ganyu and Ping–” Realizing how rude she probably sounded, Sharzad cleared her throat. “–sorry, it’s not my place to ask . . .”

“You are allowed to wonder. I believe it is a combination of our similar energy signatures with a few personality quirks. Additionally, it would not be surprising to our friends that we had children in secret. While the legends in Sumeru might give a different impression, Amun actually has quite the soft spot for children, one strong enough to rival even Cloud Retainer.”

Sharzad eyed the god in question, who stood a few paces from Nabu, arms crossed behind him like a bodyguard. “Really?”

Nabu nodded. “Yes. It is unfortunate that Amun has been so reduced to the mad king in much of Sumeru’s mythology, and that our imprisonment after our deaths embittered him as much as it did.” Shifting her hands slightly, she offered Sharzad a small, albeit teary, smile. “It is thanks to you that he has begun to soften at the edges again . . . it has been millennia since he allowed anyone besides me to know him so well.”

“I hardly think I know him that well, Nabu.”

“One day, then. And until then, allow me to show you my memories of him back then, with his sages and soldiers.” She glanced back at Deshret, who hadn’t moved from his bodyguard-like stance beyond a slight softening of his expression. “It does not do well to dwell on the past, but this may be a learning experience. Seeing an example of monarchs in action will benefit you in the long run.”

Deshret raised an eyebrow. “If that is the case, I hope you will offer up your own recollections, too, Nabu.”

“Why, certainly.”

“Both of you are really getting into the spirit of the Land of Contracts.” Sharzad picked up the cup of tea and took a hesitant sip. Said hesitation was immediately justified when a taste somewhere between burnt leaves and vinegar met her tongue. She spit it out and grimaced. “Eugh. These leaves must be ancient.”

Deshret chuckled, his amusement clear in his heterochromatic eyes. “Perhaps I should have advised you against tasting it.”

“I learned my lesson.” She dumped the rest of the tea on the ground, before setting the tea cup down. “Now, why don’t we rest a little while longer? I get the sense that my dreams tonight will be exhausting.”

~~~

Aether and Paimon stayed at the bottom of the mountain while Sharzad went out to train. Such a normal course of events meant that neither was bothered by their companion climbing up the mountain alone (well, alone with two gods, but Aether couldn’t see them and neither could Paimon).

Moon Carver seemed rather surprised. “You are not following her?”

“Why would we?” Paimon asked. “It’s super-secret god stuff.”

“She is on her own.”

“She has her gods,” Aether pointed out. “And this is the kind of training where she doesn’t want an audience. But she’s asked for help before, with other stuff.”

“Yeah! Paimon even gets to referee their spars! Helios is always all whoosh! Boom! Air blast! And Sharzad throws so many plants around that the air smells like Ying’er’s perfume shop!”

Paimon gesticulated wildly as she spoke, each sound effect accompanied by matching hand movements miming explosions, blasts of Anemo energy, and even sword fighting. Aether smiled in amusement at her dramatics.

“It is wise of you to realise when you are unwelcome,” Moon Carver said. “The training of one’s abilities can be quite private, particularly for those trading the path of the divine. Vision bearers do this on a smaller scale, be it with meditation or some other form of reflection in order to correctly access their abilities. Her Highness simply wields that power on a different scale.” The elk lowered his head to make eye contact with Aether and Paimon. “One hopes you will continue to stay at her side. To inherit the strength of one god is one thing, but the power of many will bring pressure most mortals are unwilling and unable to bear.”

Aether thought back to Xiao stubbornly proclaiming that Sharzad only sought power, and that the power would kill her (he ignored the association of Xiao with those mourning bird calls for the moment).

“Is she in any danger?”

“One doubts it. Her Highness has two gods by her side, and both have always taken care around those less powerful than themselves. They will push her to her limits to strengthen her, but they will not toss her over the edge into mortal peril. She is safe.”

For now went unspoken. Aether wondered how long that could reasonably last. How many deals could Sharzad make before the two day coma in Mondstadt became a permanent one?

“Um, by the way, do you know an adeptus called Xiao?” Paimon asked. “Because he told us some strange things about Sharzad seeking power and her dying. He was also kind of cold and mean to her . . . hehe, why are you staring at Paimon like that?”

“Alatus . . . that poor boy.” Moon Carver shook his head, voice rumbling in either anger or exasperation. Perhaps both. “One should summon him at once. He has no business being so suspicious of the heir to Amun and Nabu Malikata’s kingdom. She is trustworthy.”

Paimon tilted her head. “How can you tell? You only just met her!”

“Amun would have never consented to passing her his kingdom and authority if she was unworthy. One may have had disagreements with him in the past, but one trusts Amun’s judgement, just as one trusts the wisdom of his queen.”

“But Xiao doesn’t?” Aether asked. “You and Cloud Retainer seem to trust them, but why doesn’t he?”

“Alatus never met them,” Moon Carver replied. He sighed, taking a step back. “One shall endeavour to speak to him, although one cannot simply convince him where to put his trust.”

Xiao definitely didn’t look like the trusting type. Over his travels, Aether had met people like him, too, various incarnations of brooding bad boys or warriors with traumatic pasts, who shielded themselves from everyone due to warped impressions of how to protect them from harm. And if he trusted Cloud Retainer’s story, Xiao had lost his fellow Yaksha—whatever those were—centuries earlier. He was the sole remainder of that past, and clearly deeply affected by it.

Such are the costs of war, Cloud Retainer had told him. Aether wondered why no one in this world had invented therapy yet. That would help everyone.

“I wouldn’t ask you to, and I don’t think Sharzad would, either.”

“One does not know Her Highness enough to make such a judgement. But one shall observe and see her personality for oneself. You still have time in Liyue.”

Paimon nodded. “Yep! We don’t know how long, though, but we’re definitely sticking around until after the Rite of Parting!”

Moon Carver nodded his head slowly. “If you have the time, one recommends that you stay for the Lantern Rite. It is a period of festivities enjoyed by all who come here.”

“Noted,” Aether said.

“Hmm. In the meantime, one shall speak to Alatus in private, and then enlist the other adepti in keeping an eye on Her Highness’ training. Not to keep her safe, but simply to observe how she is faring.”

“Isn’t that kind of . . . creepy?” Paimon asked, holding her palms up.

“Perhaps. But in the days of old, the adepti would watch over those seeking to follow our path from a distance.”

“But . . . Sharzad doesn’t want to be an adeptus.”

Aether thought this was a good point. After all, Sharzad wasn’t training to be an adeptus. She was training for combat purposes, and learning skills for a throne. The adepti weren’t monarchs. They were more like guardians of the wilderness, stewards of the legendary secrets of Liyue. Meanwhile, Sharzad was learning how to be a queen.

Yet Moon Carver shook his head, evidently disagreeing with Paimon’s point. “The path of her gods holds so many similarities with that of the adepti that it may as well be.”

~~~

The good thing about being coworkers with Sandrone was that Childe could easily request upgraded automatons for his own training purposes. And when the spars inevitably ended in the destruction of her creations, he could simply send the ruined fragments back to Sandrone with notes about their usefulness.

She appreciated the research data.

Today, Childe was determined to kill her most recent creation with nothing but a claymore, hoping for a challenge amidst a rather boring week. Ever since the Rite of Descension, he’d been stuck in a kind of limbo while waiting for the Rite of Parting to take place. The endless buzz of anticipation due to the upcoming execution of his plan (maybe even freeing an eldritch oceanic god to fight!) had obliterated the enjoyment Childe typically found in everything, including meals with Zhongli.

He needed an actual challenge, or else he’d go crazy (well, crazier than his normal self, but Childe fully believed that he was among the sanest of the Fatui Harbingers. At least he wasn’t going around prodding every moving thing with a needle like Dottore or causing endless destruction and chaos like Scaramouche).

So, there Childe was, charging at a small army of modified meks from Fontaine, the robots a mix of elegance and brutality he could admire (though Sandrone would no doubt enhance their aesthetic value once the testing phase was over).

Half of the meks fired elementally charged bullets from their arms, the rest of their heavy bodies designed to look vaguely humanoid. They were surprisingly well-balanced for something clearly meant to look like they were wearing heels, and while he knew several people who wore heels while fighting (and did it well), Childe disliked the sheer imbalance heels offered him. There were better ways to be challenged than wearing stilettos in combat, especially with the risk of injury.

The other robots were deceptively small, clearly based on the dog-like meks from Fontaine but heavily modified. Beyond simply firing bombs, their adjustments included increased limb flexibility (for melee combat) and strange new beams of pure energy that burned the ground where they hit.

Sandrone had clearly enhanced her creations’ durability, as even with his considerable strength, it took Childe several blows to even dent the meks. Meaning by the time he’d cleared away about half of them, he’d actually broken a sweat. Which was wonderful. Amazing! Not a challenge, certainly, but a decent workout.

He slammed the hilt of his weapon into the chest of one of the humanoid meks, the turning motion required pulling his eyes away from the robots just long enough to notice one of his subordinates standing at the edge of the training field.

Business is calling.

Finishing off the last of the meks took all of thirty seconds, after which Childe threw his claymore into the pile of broken metal and exposed wires. Running a hand through his hair, he turned to face the masked Electrohammer Vanguard standing at the edge of the training field, curious about the unusual observation of his training. Most Fatui members wouldn’t dare approach Childe while he was training, especially after a few incidents where soldiers got injured by attempting to interfere (this kind of incident stopped almost five years earlier, around the time Pulcinella finally had enough of him decimating the ranks of trained soldiers and forced Capitano to spar with him on occasion).

“Hey, soldier,” he called. “Come to train?”

The soldier trembled as he spoke. “No, sir. I’ve come to report a . . . being my squadron encountered in the mountains of Jueyun Karst.”

“Ah, Anatoliy, isn’t it?” Recognizing his subordinates by voice took time, but Childe liked to do so. It made him more approachable, and less liable to being betrayed like Signora or Pantalone (both regularly fought back assassination attempts). He offered an encouraging smile. “Tell me. Whatever it was must be quite terrifying, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. The mountain was extremely foggy this morning, so when we heard a disturbance, Valentin fired into it, in case it was a monster. I went out to investigate, thinking it was a hilichurl, but instead it was some–some god, sir, or another creature of nature.”

“Oh? An adeptus?”

Anatoliy let out a breathy little laugh, a sound of lingering terror. “It was quite clear that it wasn’t an adeptus, sir. It told us, even. Then tied me up with flowers and threatened us into leaving the mountain. And–and when I told it that you would defeat it, it laughed and said that she once ripped off La Signora’s arm!”

Childe froze. “It said what.”

“It ripped off La Signora’s arm. Sir.”

What a stroke of luck! A monster summoning flowers and bragging about tearing off La Signora’s arm? Was it perhaps the beast he’d been told to kill? Would he be able to complete his newest mission from the Tsaritsa so soon?

“Tell me, Anatoliy,” Tartaglia said, fighting back a grin, “Did this creature happen to have horns?”

“Y-yes, sir. How did you know?”

“Oh, it’s just a beast I’ve been meaning to fight, no big deal.” Waving a hand, Tartaglia turned to leave the grounds, only stopping to call out an order. “Let everyone know that Jueyun Karst is off limits until I deal with this threat. And make sure whoever cleans up this mess sends Sandrone a note that these meks are still pitifully weak.”

Notes:

This chapter was supposed to be short, but somehow it's 4700 words long. Blame the lore dump I came up with halfway through this week lmao. In other news, I only have two exams left, meaning afterwards I'll have much more time to work on this because my only deadlines will be self-imposed! Hooray!

1) Some little hints at Nabu and Deshret's pasts! I want to keep it as vague as possible for a while longer, especially since Nabu is missing most of her memories of her days as an Angel. This is definitely giving me ideas about writing a bonus chapter or short fanfiction about their past and love story once I do the Haikaveh one. Would you guys be interested?

2) I was originally going to make the meks Childe fights come from Dottore, but I figured Sandrone would make more sense since she's actually involved with puppet/robot making and possibly connected to Fontaine. I wouldn't be surprised if we see more of her in the next few patches because of the hints about Nod Krai from the Genshin devs, so whatever I guess about her personality is probably completely wrong

3) Childe is a little battle gremlin and he used to attack anything that moves when he was in training/sparring mode. Pulcinella gave him a scolding and made Capitano beat him into the ground. Needless to say, Childe has stopped killing bystanding Fatui soldiers

Not a ton of notes this week, to be honest, but I have a ton of thoughts about what I wrote! Now that I'm kind of settling into the rhythm of this fic, it's becoming a lot easier to write what I want. I have no idea how many chapters this arc will be, however, so it could be ten or it could even go all the way to twenty (I'm hoping the former tbh).

I hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general, check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 10: Chapter II: Dream Lesson (I)

QUEST

Dream Lesson (I)

Watch Nabu’s memory

“I see the humans haven’t learned from your traps. How pitiful.”

“One hardly expects them to learn from past mistakes, especially when thievery tends to skip generations.”

“Ransoming one rather than scaring them off may be more effective.”

“One has made a commitment to protect Liyue. Unlike you, one cannot create traps with the capability to mortally wound brigands.”

Somehow, despite being two birds (a certain Sand King had decided that turning into a massive ibis was the way to go today), Mountain Shaper and Deshret gave off the appearance of two old British ladies meeting for tea of the herbal and verbal varieties. Sharzad and Nabu, meanwhile, sat together on a rock, watching this happen and braiding flower crowns (Aether and Paimon were helping a poor adventurer they’d met on the trip over to Mount Hulao).

Sharzad leaned over to whisper in Nabu’s ear. “Is this normal behavior?”

She received an amused smile for her troubles. “For those two? Yes. Amun rarely gets to talk about his . . . defense mechanisms with someone who actually agrees with him.”

“You don’t?”

“I find his Primal Constructs a crude replacement for living soldiers, although I understand that after my demise, Amun only sought to guarantee the protection of his assets.” With a practiced motion, Nabu created a carpet of peonies—with their leaves already removed from their stems—at her feet, and she began incorporating them into her colourful crown. “We employed a great number of guards, and while it was initially a formality to settle the anxieties of his earliest mortal advisers, we came to enjoy it. And the mortals considered it an honor.”

Sharzad frowned. “How did that work, exactly? I mean, if their loyalty was strong enough, I can understand, but it’s still being a guard. It was dangerous, no?”

“Certainly. Thieves and other bandits threatened our palace and any government buildings across our lands, not to mention monsters of all origins. But these guards knew what they came for—Amun and I wanted to cultivate an army made of people who wished to be there. He often observed their training and would personally accompany any contingent larger than one hundred soldiers to ensure their survival. Meanwhile, I ensured that resources were plentiful, and that the craftsmen, doctors, and generals were well-qualified.”

As expected. Sharzad knew part of this, after all—despite how the rainforest population of Sumeru villainized Deshret, her professors (including Gulnaz, eugh) had still been willing to admit that Deshret, before succumbing to the madness, was a good ruler. Only they mixed in a ton of propaganda campaigns and unnecessary warfare in order to justify why the Eremites still hung on to Deshret hundreds of years after his death.

Because of course they did.

“Hmm.” Sharzad broke off the end of a daisy’s particularly long stem. “Am I expected to do the same?”

“It would be wise. But with Amun’s Primal Constructs wandering the desert, you would need a smaller number to start. Perhaps a few Eremites, some scholars from the Akademiya as doctors and craftsmen from either the desert or the rainforest to start.”

“To start. Of course, since I’ll obviously be founding a dynasty or something.”

Nabu’s eyes widened. “We certainly don’t want to force you to have children.”

Good to know.

“And I’m not planning on it at the moment, either, considering I’m sixteen.” Frowning, Sharzad shrugged. “Sixteen physically, anyway. But all three of us know how crazed puberty has made me act. Besides, my brain’s not even fully developed yet and won’t be for at least another decade. I’m definitely not in a position to raise a child.”

“Wasn’t your father twenty when you first arrived?”

“Not his best idea, I’ll admit, but we had the advantage of my past life so I turned out okay.” She sighed. “Well, mostly okay, anyway. Definitely not a paragon of sanity, that’s for certain.”

Her singing in the Mausoleum made that clear. After all, that had been a result of her instincts or subconscious (or something) taking control of her body, and the result had been pure chaos. Not to mention the whole stabbing threats problem that had recently surfaced.

Me, sane? Never.

“Having two immortals stuck in your head has certainly not helped,” Nabu commented, rather than doing the nice thing and saying something like oh no, you’re not insane. You’re perfectly sane. The most sane, even.

But maybe that was what an insane person would think. She certainly wouldn’t know.

“Every god in Teyvat is some flavor of unhinged,” Sharzad declared. “Dragons included.”

Nabu laughed as she placed her finished crown on her head, taking care to avoid hitting her horns. “That is certainly true, Sharzad.”

~~~

Adventurers in Liyue really had an absolutely horrendous knack for getting into trouble. When Aether, Paimon, and Sharzad had initially run into Linyang and Dandy, he erroneously believed that helping them with their commission would be an easy task. Simply providing a security-esque escort for them as they inspected the status of the various bridges in Guyun Stone Forest.

This was unfortunately not a simple task, as they found one of the bridges blocked by a small group of Hilichurls, and another infested with newly formed Hydro slimes that Aether had to battle.

“Well, now that that’s over,” Linyang commented when Aether defeated the last of the slimes, “We can finally inspect this bridge.”

It was the last bridge, thankfully. The one that would end it all. Afterwards, he could rejoin Sharzad at Mount Hulao for some conversation with Mountain Shaper, who sounded rather . . . unfriendly, if Moon Carver and Cloud Retainer had been honest the day before (and that morning, as Cloud Retainer sent them off with a warning to avoid all flowers on Mount Hulao and stay on the path at all costs, whatever that meant).

The bridge swayed slightly as Dandy knelt to inspect its planks, knocking lightly against the surface. “Well, it seems stable. The planks are wet, but that’s likely because of the slimes.”

Aether should have known that something bad was about to happen when a variation of the phrase this looks fine had been spoken aloud.

Indeed, no sooner had Dandy spoken those words did the damned plant snap in half. The sudden shift sent the adventurer careening backwards, causing the entire bridge to sway and subsequently crumble to pieces.

Those planks were clearly not in working shape. If anything, they’d been half-rotten and in desperate need of repair.

That’s what Aether thought as he fell to his inevitable . . . well, not death, since he had survived worse, but he was definitely falling towards a future living in Bubu Pharmacy, covered in bandages with as many casts as possible in Teyvat. Being immortal did not make him immune to injuries or broken bones, however unfortunate that was.

As they plummeted towards the ground, the air filled with the screams of the two adventurers, plus Paimon’s. Aether focused on his Anemo energy, hoping against all hope that he might be able to slow their fall with an air current or something. Even if he wouldn’t die from such a high fall, the others definitely would. He had the power to save them, if only he could concentrate enough to gather energy around them.

Then—the screaming stopped. Since he was still falling, Aether could figure out that something had happened to the others, but he couldn’t tell what it was.

After a chilling moment of silence (beyond the wind whistling past his ears), Aether found himself in the strong arms of a figure brimming with elemental energy. The swirl of teal light that overtook the blurred landscape he travelled through was marred with black spots, like whatever Anemo magic the figure wielded had been poisoned. Corrupted.

His feet slammed into the ground, the unexpected impact sending him swaying sideways as if he was drunk. A gloved hand caught his forearm, steadying him with a grip both firm and gentle. A gloved hand leading to a pale arm covered in unique tattoos. Tattoos Aether recognized.

Paimon recognized his savior seconds before he did. “Xiao! You saved us!”

The adeptus answered with a glower. “That bridge was unsafe. You should be more careful.”

“We were just there to inspect it, sir adeptus!” Linyang stammered. “We’ll be reporting this to the guild immediately so someone can fix it!”

Meanwhile, rather than panicking about the fall or the broken bridge, Aether was caught up in a very different kind of problem. To put it simply, his brain had done a very successful impression of a computer bluescreening at the combined knowledge that Xiao had saved them and that he was as strong as he was.

Because that, despite being (mostly) unnecessary for him, had been hot. Very hot. And Aether had learned over the years that if there was one thing he was doomed to be attracted to, it was people who seemed like rough loners who turned out to have a thing for saving people. The kind of bad boy with a soft side.

And this. This was fucking perfect for him. Especially since Xiao was rather handsome, and well-muscled to boot. Aether could almost hear Lumine cackling at him as his heart rate reached a dangerously high speed, sending blood rushing through his ears to the point he could hear his heartbeat and feel the blood pumping in his throat.

Oh, I am so fucked.

Meanwhile, the two adventurers had once again profusely apologized to Xiao before scurrying off with their things, clearly eager to escape the adeptus’ disapproving glare. Linyang handed Paimon a bag of Mora before joining Dandy, the two loudly promising to be careful and also get the bridge fixed as soon as possible.

Aether continued to stare at Xiao like an idiot.

Xiao, unsurprisingly, turned to stare at him, a disapproving frown sobering his expression. “Moon Carver mentioned you and that girl were still seeking the rest of the adepti,” he said, crossing his arms. “Why were you putting yourself in danger like that? You don’t seem as stupid as most mortals.”

“They needed an escort to guard them from monsters!” Paimon exclaimed. Her voice strained as she flew the bag of Mora to Aether, who quickly placed it in his bag. “How were we supposed to know the planks were rotten?”

“Asking the adepti would have given you all the information you needed. Thanks to that girl, you have a Sigil of Permission now.”

“Oh, did Moon Carver tell you that? He sounded kind of bothered when we mentioned that you’ve been suspicious of Sharzad and her gods.”

In response, Xiao continued to glower at Paimon.

After another moment, Aether managed to recover enough brainpower to make his mouth move again. “Thanks for saving them. And me.”

It seemed like Xiao was used to hearing such thanks, because all he said was, “Be more careful.”

Aether offered a crooked smile. “Of course. And, you know, Sharzad’s meeting with Mountain Shaper, if you want to join us and say hi.”

An expression of deep offense crossed Xiao’s features. Somehow, his frown intensified, before he grumbled a curt, “No,” and disappeared.

“How can anyone be so grumpy all the time?” Paimon asked. “Xiao always sounds so angry for no reason!”

Aether shrugged. Grumpy or not, Xiao had a traumatic past and some deep-seated desire to protect the people of Liyue, no matter how much he hid it. Whatever he’d experienced might not justify his behaviour, but it would certainly explain.

Still, either way, he had discovered that the adeptus was his type, and Aether had no clue what to do with that kind of information.

~~~

Sunlight beamed into the courtyard, heating whatever exposed stone there was and providing ample amounts of energy to the garden. A rectangular pond sat in the center of the space, reflecting wavy shadows on the nearest columns, each carved with animal imagery—birds of prey, ostriches, crocodiles, foxes and hyenas, horned mammals like oryxes, and several snakes curled around the sandstone columns. Live birds flocked in the area, too, flitting past a wide variety of grasses, flowering plants, and even several pomegranate trees, their branches weighed down by an abundance of red-pink fruits.

The space was built into the center of a large stone building, and it would have been private save for the passage of a few linen-clad humans and the presence of a familiar horned figure, who tended to her garden while the birds watched.

“We’re not in Kansas anymore,” Sharzad mumbled, despite fully understanding that this was a dream.

“This is one of our palace’s gardens,” Nabu explained. “Or, it was.”

“It’s a beautiful space.”

Birdsong filled the air, which was thick with the smell of flowers. Sharzad wondered what the courtyard’s background music would sound like had she been there in real life. Would it be unique? Would it be the same as the desert’s music?

“This place is lost to time, unfortunately. When Amun died, most of this land crumbled to dust. All that remains is his throne room, and even that is ruined beyond repair.”

Sharzad sighed. “You know, these days, it seems like everything you say is depressing.” She frowned. “Where’s Deshret?”

“Resting. He has had a long day.” A mischievous smile took over Nabu’s face. “I took the opportunity to select a memory he’s rather . . . embarrassed about to ease you into these surroundings. We won’t encounter complex politics or potentially triggering events just yet.”

Startled by the goddess’ phrasing, Sharzad turned to stare at her. “Triggering?”

“Politics are complex, as were the wars waged before this. Amun and I do not want to introduce you to the sights of true battle, torture, or death before you are ready.”

Oh.

Past Nabu dusted dirt off her cream-coloured dress. Humming some long-lost melody, the goddess plucked one of the pomegranates from the tree while, with her other hand, she effortlessly sent a spray of water to mist across the entire garden. Startled, a few of the birds jumped into the air, quickly calming once the impromptu shower stopped.

“Why are there so many birds if this place is in the desert?”

“Why would they not be here, where there was water and peace for them? Animals always flock to where they may guarantee their own safety.” Nabu watched her past self crack open the pomegranate and, after inspecting its insides, let out a happy hum. “Our palace was one such space, a relative rarity in the desert.”

A loud voice echoed from a stone hallway Sharzad hadn’t noticed in her awe of the courtyard. The words were garbled, but as the voice grew nearer and louder, Sharzad could recognize that of Deshret, accompanied by a rather harried looking older man, perhaps in his sixties or seventies.

The Sand King looked different. Younger, of course, although his physical appearance didn’t seem all that different from the Deshret Sharzad knew. No, his youth and inexperience shone in the way he held himself—too proud, too stiff, less like a predator poised to spring and more like a frightened kitten trying to look intimidating. His garments marked his godhood, the simplicity of his linen tunic erased by the sheer amount of gold and jewels on his person. One in particular caught her eye—a glinting amulet set in the center of his chest in the shape of a bird spreading its wings. When the rays of sunshine finally hit the god-king, it glinted off the stones embedded in the golden material, including carnelian, turquoise, and agate.

His companion paled in comparison, and while he, too, sported pieces of gold on his arms and a ring or two, the wrinkles on his face and his garments made him look painfully mortal when compared to the god next to him.

Still, he spoke with authority, gaze disapproving as they approached the courtyard. “Your Majesty, please, this will increase your rapport among humans such as myself! Taking a honeymoon–”

“Do I look like the type to take a vacation, Imiseba? I have lived eleven centuries and never once have I deemed it necessary to break for so long. And for such—such a purpose!”

Sharzad frowned. “Wait.” The memory froze. “Was he embarrassed about going on a honeymoon? Really?”

“He did not appreciate that his subjects would know that he and I were . . .” she drifted off.

“You can say fuck. I’m sixteen, not three.”

Nabu cleared her throat. “Anyway, he did not appreciate people knowing. Not to mention the plan to have the two of us isolated from the rest of the world for six weeks had him rather uneasy. After a thousand years of near-constant war, Amun was unused to the idea of letting his kingdom . . . be.”

“And so this adviser came to you for help?”

The memory unfroze the moment Nabu nodded. Her past self, having heard the other two’s approach, turned from the garden in order to greet them.

“To what do I owe the pleasure? I was under the impression that you were working on a personal project, Amun?”

“My goddess, help him see reason, I beg of you!” The old man—Imiseba—pressed his palms together and bowed to Nabu. “My staff has been attempting to schedule your wedding, but he refuses to allow for a honeymoon period!”

“Oh?”

Past Deshret stepped closer to his wife (or at the time, his fiance), arms behind his back as he spoke. “Surely you understand that we cannot leave our kingdom alone for so long. Our enemies–” he stopped speaking at the sound of a giggle, frowning at Nabu. “What is so amusing, my lily?”

“Our kingdom will not crumble because we took a honeymoon, Amun. It is healthy to take a break, and you have spent your whole life fighting thousands of battles. Take this chance to have a moment of peace.”

“I take vacations.”

“No longer than a few days. I think you will enjoy a true vacation, without the pressure of war or kingship.” Without waiting for Deshret’s answer, Past Nabu turned to Imiseba. “Please ensure that the honeymoon is scheduled, Imiseba. We shall discuss who to leave in charge of the kingdom while we are away to guarantee peace during that time. You may go.”

“Thank you, my goddess,” Imiseba said in breathless relief, before scurrying off.

“Why must you insist on such frivolities, Nabu?” Deshret asked. He sounded so unsure, as if the very thought of taking a break was out of place in his brain. “Our wedding celebrations are grand enough. The mortals depend on us too much to abandon them so soon.”

“You asked me the same thing once, do you remember?” Past Nabu took Deshret’s hand, tracing a finger around one of his many rings. “In the early days of your conquest. You were so confused when your human soldiers—the earliest ones—wished to celebrate victories with revels.”

“But we are not human.”

“We live among them. It is enough to justify acting like them sometimes.” The goddess cupped her fiance’s face in her hands, gazing softly at him. “You have been at war for your entire life, Amun. It is time for you to rest and reset. Your kingdom—our kingdom—is strong enough to survive a few months without its leaders.”

The memory froze again.

Sharzad frowned. “He was a workaholic.”

The present-day Nabu smiled wistfully. “A habit he never truly gave up. If there is a lesson in this, it is to ensure you take adequate breaks, Sharzad. Even now, you cannot work every moment you wake. It is difficult, I know, but there are people in this world more than willing to take the burden off you, even for a moment. Do not allow yourself to abandon your childhood or your health simply because of responsibility.”

Notes:

A shorter chapter than usual because despite finishing my exams on Wednesday, I still ended up writing half of this this morning. Things are going to change though, so hooray!

1) We get a ton of information about Deshret and Nabu's pasts this chapter. I'm hoping that the next few updates are rather secretive about their stories so that I can go off and make up my own stuff, but worse case scenario, I will change the in-game lore to fit this as necessary.

2) Linyang and Dandy are two actual NPCs in Liyue, both of them part of the Adventurers' Guild. I sincerely apologize for subjecting the two of them to a fall, but it had to happen for that scene

3) The courtyard in Nabu and Deshret's palace is directly inspired by Ancient Egyptian gardens, including the rectangular pool and the presence of carved columns. The motifs are based purely on my own imagination, as most reliefs would have featured natural scenes or the gods, and I felt like animals were the best thing to use. Also, all of the species mentioned come from or once lived in Egypt, which had a much milder climate during the days of Ancient Egypt. Pomegranates were also farmed during the New Kingdom period, meaning those are also accurate!

4) Past Deshret's clothing also takes inspiration from Ancient Egypt. The amulet on his chest is meant to be a pectoral, a type of pendant or brooch worn by the wealthy and the Pharaoh. The stones involved and gold are also commonly used materials in Ancient Egyptian jewellery.

5) Imiseba is an Ancient Egyptian name belonging to a scribe from the 19th Dynasty

That's all for this week! The last part of this chapter was kind of a test run for something I'd like to do, which is conveying more of Deshret and Nabu's past through dreams instead of just hinting at it randomly. There's a lot to get through, and I'd love to flesh those two out more. Let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general, check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 11: Chapter II: Return Trip

QUEST

Return Trip

Return to Liyue Harbor

“This feels weird.”

Cloud Retainer raised a very unimpressed eyebrow. “That is made of adeptal silk, created by an ancient, time consuming method to imbue the material with adeptal energy. You would be hard-pressed to find any garment as durable and fashionable as these.”

Yeah, fashionable.

The dress was made of a surprisingly thin and delicate material, with a very form-fitting top and, thankfully, an A-line skirt so she could actually move. Delicate white embroidery in a pattern of leaves or flower petals adorned the edges of the garment, whose silk was a shade slightly darker than royal purple (which would have been too on the nose even for Sharzad, who had been wearing flower crowns regularly for the past months). Instead of having normal sleeves, the main portion of the dress resembled a halter top, and with the detached sleeves—these a gradient from purple to a shade so light that it looked white—her entire shoulders were exposed. Cloud Retainer had also thankfully included tights to keep her legs warm, because otherwise she’d be freezing.

At least she had the comfort of wearing her own boots.

“I’m talking about the tightness.” Sharzad picked at the dress’ waist. “Does this have to be so form-fitting, Auntie?”

She may as well have suggested going out to fight in a bikini with how scandalised Cloud Retainer sounded. “One will not have you walking around in a rice sac!”

“Sure, but this top is practically glued to my skin.”

The adeptus hummed in acknowledgement and approval. “Then it fits well. Adeptal silk garments fit like a second skin if made correctly. One has tailored several outfits in the past centuries, including those of Ganyu and Shenhe.”

“Shenhe?” Nabu echoed. “Another ward of yours?”

“Indeed. Perhaps you will meet her on your return to Mount Aocang. One will be expecting you, especially if you stay in Liyue for the Lantern Rite.” After giving Sharzad a once-over, Cloud Retainer frowned, turning to glare at Deshret and Nabu. “One reminds you to ensure she eats sufficiently healthy meals. Sharzad is still a growing child, and needs more sustenance to properly develop.”

“I’m developing fine!”

Cloud Retainer sniffed. “One finds that difficult to believe, seeing as you collapse upon using a fraction of your power. Your body may be more resilient than those of mortals, but you still require proper training.”

Sharzad frowned. Hadn’t her body been recalibrated after the Mausoleum fiasco? As far as she remembered, that was what ‘O’ told her, right? So why did Cloud Retainer seem so convinced she needed better training? The power Sharzad wielded was clearly on the caliber of a god, right?

Right? She glanced at Nabu and Deshret, only to find both of their gazes firmly fixed on Cloud Retainer. They didn’t looked pissed, but they definitely weren’t happy about the adeptus’ comments, either.

“We are taking this as carefully as we can.” Was that annoyance in Nabu’s voice? Overprotectiveness? Something else entirely? “Sharzad has collapsed enough for us to know her limits. There is no reason to push her to the edge if she risks death.”

“Additionally, you are quite aware that our powers are beyond those of the adepti,” Deshret added. “What you may perceive as a fraction of energy is in fact a droplet in the well of untapped power Sharzad could wield if she wished it. Human creativity is dangerous, Cloud Retainer. We all know that.”

The adeptus crossed her arms, raising one haughty eyebrow at the same time. “Hmph. One merely wishes to ensure you know what you are doing. Raising a mortal is difficult work.”

“Again,” Sharzad said for what was probably the fiftieth time in four days, “I have two loving fathers. These two are not my parents.”

“Ah, the rebellious phase.” Nodding sagely, Cloud Retainer returned her attention to Nabu and Deshret. “Perhaps you should stay longer so one can explain how one might deal with such a change in behavior.”

Aether and Paimon approached them, the former with his backpack slung over one shoulder. Having evidently heard Cloud Retainer’s latest statement, he sent Sharzad what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.

That motherfuck–

“I can assure you, Cloud Retainer, this is not a phase.”

Cloud Retainer ignored Deshret by turning to greet Aether and Paimon. “You have returned. Are you all sufficiently prepared for the walk to Liyue Harbor? One shall send a message to Rex Lapis to inform him of your return. He must be expecting you.”

“I don’t really think he cares, to be honest,” Sharzad commented.

“Indeed. He is . . . interested in a new human.” Deshret wrinkled his nose. Given what Sharzad learned the night before, this was probably because he was deeply uninterested—or even disgusted—by knowing other peoples’ sex lives. “Carnally.”

That caught Cloud Retainer’s attention. “Oh?”

“Did one of your gods just drop some gossip or something?” Aether whispered.

Sharzad leaned closer to whisper back (Nabu and Deshret somehow produced cups of tea or some other liquid and were now eagerly exchanging divine gossip with Cloud Retainer). “Just that Zhongli’s thirsting after Childe.”

“Since when?”

Since when?!

Eyes wide, Sharzad raised an eyebrow. “Since when?! Have you not noticed the way they’ve been checking each other out? I’ve seen golden langurs more subtle than they are.”

Paimon giggled uneasily. “Golden whats?”

“Type of monkey. Their fur is usually some shade of gold so they stick out in the rainforest.”

“Oooh.”

Aether frowned. “I haven’t noticed anything.”

How. How the fuck had he not noticed it? And by it, she meant everything from the lovesick staring when the other wasn’t looking to Childe fully thirsting over Zhongli’s ass. In public. At least Kaveh and Alhaitham had the decency to keep the worst stuff confined to the house! To the bedroom, even! If they’d been like Childe and Zhongli, Sharzad would have ripped her own eyes out to stop seeing it.

And Aether hadn’t seen this?!

Crossing her arms, Sharzad frowned at him. “When we get back to the harbor, I’m going to show you, and then afterwards you can either let me run off to the mountains and scream or get me some drugs so I can redirect my frustration somewhere productive.”

By hallucinating so vividly that the world became completely uninteresting.

“Drugs?”

“Yeah. Sumeru’s right next door and has a lot of mushrooms with fun properties. I’m sure we can find someone in Liyue Harbor with access to some of them.”

~~~

About halfway down to Liyue Harbor, Sharzad stopped in her tracks. She turned in a circle, eyes carefully observing the landscape.

Aether mentally prepared to summon his sword. Looking at the landscape in suspicion was not a sign that their surroundings were safe. “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s following us.” Tilting her head as if listening to something, she frowned. “It’s Xiao.”

It’s Xiao?! Was he spying on them? Was he spying on him? It would be nice if he joined them instead of spying.

“Xiao?!” he echoed, much louder than he wanted to be.

A flash of teal-blue light faded to reveal the aforementioned adeptus, arms crossed and yellow eyes narrowed suspiciously at Sharzad. “You called?”

“Huh.” One of Sharzad’s eyebrows quirked upward, nearly sending Aether into a fit of laughter at how ridiculous it looked. “Cloud Retainer mentioned you’d come if we called your name with enough intention. I wasn’t expecting this to work.”

Riiiight. Cloud Retainer had mentioned that in a long-winded rant over breakfast, something Aether would’ve found weird in any normal circumstances; however, given how the adeptus seemed determined to act like a wise aunt to Sharzad, he wasn’t surprised in the slightest. It gave him a chance to slowly wake up while Sharzad (hopefully) took exhaustive mental notes about everything Cloud Retainer told her.

That woman—or, adeptus, technically—was almost terrifyingly determined to fulfill the role of doting aunt for Sharzad. Aether figured it was another god-thing, but an immortal crane going around adopting children was arguably the weirdest thing he’d seen in Teyvat. And he’d seen plenty of weird things.

Xiao’s head tilted slightly to the right. “I came because screaming loudly into the wilderness will draw anyone’s attention.” You’re not that special went unsaid.

“None of us screamed,” Sharzad deadpanned.

There was a moment of very awkward silence.

“So, Xiao,” Paimon said hesitantly. “Paimon was wondering . . . why don’t you talk like the other adepti?”

“What.” It wasn’t a question. A statement of confusion, made obvious by Xiao’s perplexed expression.

“You don’t talk like the other adepti.” Paimon lowered her voice, elongating her syllables as she spoke. “You know, all one believes this and one advises that.”

Xiao blinked at her. “They’re older than me.”

“Oh, Paimon understands.” Then she paused. “Wait, how old are you again?”

Old enough to remember the Archon War, however long ago that was. Aether would’ve guessed at least a few thousand years, but he didn’t know enough about Teyvat’s history to confirm it. He made a mental note to ask Sharzad about it. If she didn’t know, her gods probably had exact dates they could give him.

Xiao looked unimpressed. “No.”

“Huh?! What do you mean, no?”

Thinking fast, Aether grabbed Paimon’s arm to keep her from getting too close to Xiao’s face. He didn’t like the potential threat of an annoyed Xiao (more annoyed than usual, anyway), especially since Paimon had a general lack of understanding of personal space or boundaries.

“We’re heading back to Liyue Harbor,” Aether said, hoping to ease any tension or awkwardness. “Want to join us?”

“I have no business being near humans.”

Really? But he definitely thought Aether and Sharzad were human, right? So why did he keep showing up? Or why did he save the two adventurers the day earlier? Or hang out at Wangshu Inn? That wasn’t the behavior of someone who wanted to stay away from people.

Maybe it was trauma or something. It probably was, if Cloud Retainer was to be trusted.

“You could still walk with us for a bit,” he offered.

“I have no business being near humans,” Xiao repeated. He slowly turned to Sharzad, letting his arms rest at his sides for the first time this entire conversation. “Moon Carver has . . . advised me to apologize to you for my treatment of you and your gods. And while I was . . . reluctant to do so, Morax summoned me this morning and urged me to speak to you.”

An unnecessarily long pause indicated that a god was probably talking.

“He will not seek her out—he wants to wait until she feels ready.” Xiao waited a breath, before adding, very awkwardly, “Your Majesty.”

Was that a tinge of red gracing the adeptus’ pale cheeks? It contrasted with the mostly cool tones of his clothing, but the red eyeliner he wore (had Aether ever noticed it before?) helped to make it fit his face.

Wait. He looks so cute when he blushes.

Aether covered his face, turning with a fake-cough to disguise his embarrassment at his own thoughts. How come this adeptus was both hot and cute? Aether was almost certainly doomed now.

If he hadn’t already been doomed the moment Xiao saved his ass yesterday.

~~~

Childe thought the road up to the top of Qingyun Peak was rather . . . deserted. Very deserted, in fact. The only remnants of anything resembling human (or human-esque) activity were leftover offerings, unlit lanterns creepily creaking in the wind, and several white cloth banners lining the path up the mountain.

Hmm. No sign of a horned beast anywhere.

He’d come to Qingyun Peak in part because it was where Anatoliy had seen the creature, but also because Moon Carver was supposedly the friendliest of the three adepti living in the region. The faster he could get answers, the better, and as much as he wanted to fight an adeptus, Childe’s mission for the Tsaritsa had priority over the fighting-the-adepti thing. That could come later.

So, there he was, climbing Qingyun Peak with the intention of talking to (and probably lying to) an adeptus. Thanks to Zhongli’s stories, Childe knew to keep his weapons hidden from sight so he wouldn’t be perceived as a threat, but he ensured to keep a hunting knife on his belt in case the horned beast ambushed him.

Zhongli. He was going to talk to him as soon as he completed this mission and promise him to go to the opera or indulge in his other whims. Without the pressure of stealing the Gnosis or confronting the horned demon, Childe could spend a few weeks (or maybe even a few months if he was lucky) actually dating the funeral consultant like a normal person would. He could accompany Zhongli to his more time-consuming pastimes, or maybe even invite him to his apartment and then seduce him with his mother’s recipes.

Just a while longer, he told himself. A while longer, and then freedom.

He just had to be patient, to wait until the right moment to swoop in and steal the Gnosis from under everyone’s noses. Which was why the demon was currently his number one–

A brilliant flash of light caused him to stumble back a few steps as an elk at least twice the size of the bears living near Morepesok. Several notches in its ears, no doubt a sign of some great conflict with a warrior long gone, immediately drew his attention. A subtle warning to be cautious. Additionally, the elk also had green fur along its head and neck, the rest of it slowly turning to the brown of freshly plowed earth. The tips of its antlers glowed gold, and Childe figured it was where the burst of light came from.

“And who might you be?” The adeptus’ voice seemed to shake the ground, its timbre as low as the earth was deep. “You who dares climb Qingyun Peak?”

Childe put on his best diplomatic smile—not too wide, but definitely big enough to pass as friendly. Placing a hand flat over his heart, he offered a polite bow. “My lord adeptus, my name is Tartaglia, one of the Eleven Harbingers under the service of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya. I’m here to investigate a being that attacked some of my subordinates two days ago.”

He’d have arrived earlier had it not been for news that La Signora had arrived in Liyue Harbor for a few days before moving on to Inazuma for her next assignment. In his capacity as the Harbinger stationed in Liyue, Childe had been forced to play nice and have a meal with the woman the day earlier, even though they mutually hated each other. Which was why he’d been delayed by a whole day.

His comment about an attack clearly upset the adeptus, who stomped one of his hooves. The impact sent faint tremors coursing through the mountain. “An attack? On one’s own mountain? Was this without cause, Harbinger, or was this creature justified in its attack?”

Well . . . that was a complicated question, but Childe figured he should at least answer this one honestly.

“It’s my understanding that they heard movement in the mist covering the mountaintop and fired a warning shot without the intent to kill.”

“How unfortunate. Now explain, Harbinger, what do you intend to do if you find this being?”

“I simply want to talk to it,” Childe said, holding his hands out to signal that he meant no harm. “My subordinates cannot operate if they are potentially under threat from such an individual. Would you be willing to help me, lord adeptus?”

He carefully balanced his stance between confidence and relaxation as the adeptus thought through his motive. It lowered its head to peer at him with glowing golden eyes, only raising it after letting out a short, thoughtful hum.

“One was unaware of any foreign being on Qingyun Peak two days ago,” the adeptus said finally. “Describe this individual.”

Childe paused for a moment, hoping to seem like he was carefully considering how to phrase his next words. “Its most notable feature is horns like a ram’s. My subordinates also report some manipulation of Dendro or plants of some kind, and a voice like a god’s.”

The reply came immediately. “Ah, the princess is your culprit. While one cannot apologize on her behalf, one can direct you to Liyue Harbor, where she was meant to return this morning.”

“Princess?”

But, the only princess he knew of was–

Wait. Wait no. Not–not  her.

“Indeed. Perhaps she has acquired more of Amun and Nabu’s intimidating nature than one originally believed.”

Amun. He’d heard that name before—Zhongli said it at some point recently. A name in connection to . . . oh. Oh. The only princess he knew: a Sumerian girl with golden eyes, a flower crown, and apparently more secrets than Childe thought she had.

Maybe being stab-happy wasn’t the only unhinged thing about that girl.

Part of him want to laugh, to lose himself to hysterics at the newfound knowledge that his target had been right there this whole time. The horned demon, a teenager from Sumeru! A kid barely older than Childe had been when he joined the Fatui managed to rip off Signora's arm! How hilarious! How pathetic for the Eighth Harbinger, immortal woman born of frost and flame. Childe filed this away for later blackmail.

Barely holding on to his composure, Childe offered the adeptus another bow. “Thank you for your help, lord adeptus.”

Within minutes, he was scrambling back down Qingyun Peak, already planning his next move. Sharzad was on her way to Liyue Harbor—in fact, he’d run into her little group on his way to Jueyun Karst that morning—so he had to find a way to lure her into a confrontation where she couldn’t deny her true identity. Somewhere away from the main harbor in case things got messy. Somewhere of importance–

The Golden House. The Exuvia.

Stopping in his tracks, Childe slowly reoriented himself, before abandoning the path and sprinting away across the Liyuean landscape. This would be his chance to kill two birds with one stone. Steal the Gnosis and either convince Sharzad to ally with the Harbingers . . . or end the threat before it endangered the Tsaritsa’s plans.

And afterwards, he’d finally get his hard-earned time with Zhongli.

~~~

Upon arriving at Liyue Harbor, the first thing their little trio did (after stopping to change out of their dirty clothes, of course) was grab a bite to eat at a nearby food stand. With their hands full of fresh servings of Mora Meat—minced meat stuffed between two pastries in a manner similar to pita pockets—the group wandered the city in search of a place to sit.

Eventually, they climbed back to the plaza where the failed Rite of Descension took place, settling down on a patch of grass with a nice view of the city and the ocean. The crinkling of paper occasionally broke through their polite conversation about the day’s travels.

Well, Paimon and Aether’s conversation about the day’s travels, anyway. Sharzad had too much to think about to bother talking. Besides, the two were just gossiping about Xiao and, to be honest, Sharzad had greater things to worry about than his begrudging apology from earlier.

Deshret and Nabu settled near her, the former resting his head in his wife’s lap as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Meanwhile, Nabu absentmindedly created flowers and tucked the steps into the Sand King’s pale hair.

“You’ll be meeting Morax soon, I hope,” Deshret told Sharzad. “If you have made a decision about what you want.”

Sharzad didn’t say anything, instead taking another bite of her Mora Meat. She had ideas of what she could want—what might be the most useful—but there was no guarantee that taking, say, shields would be the right move. Not when she usually wasn’t in control of what gods gave her. Weighing her options was the best course of action at the moment.

What would be the best thing against Osial? Against the Shogun? Against the Fatui Harbingers?

A confrontation with some of them would be inevitable. Even Childe was too strong a possibility, and while that was a boss fight she could probably survive thanks to having basically memorized it after years of fighting the boss every few weeks, it wasn’t a guarantee. So, maybe shields were a better plan?

Or meteorites for long-range attacks? I fight in close quarters at the moment and . . . hmmm.

Noticing the shift in her train of thought—or maybe in her posture—Nabu looked at her in concern. “Would you like some advice, Sharzad, or is silence better?” she asked.

“The second at the moment. I just—I need to plan.”

“Alright. We’ll be waiting.”

“Thank you.”

Were there gods or dragons she could guarantee getting a deal from? Neuvillette was a probable candidate, since he’d seemed quite accepting of a deal when she met him. That was a good sign, although Sharzad had no clue what he might offer her besides something Hydro related. The other Sovereigns were . . . well, they definitely wouldn’t be enthusiastic, even Apep, who Deshret and Nabu had confirmed used to be a friend.

As for Archons . . . Venti said no and Zhongli’s deal was pending. The only other Archon she could guarantee a deal from was Nahida. As for the others, Mavuika was human and might not be able to give anything, Furina wouldn’t be the Archon for much longer, and Sharzad was going to earn a reputation as an enemy of both the Raiden Shogun and the Tsaritsa. She couldn’t guarantee anything, really.

Huh. That’s less than I thought, so maybe we should focus on my stuff rather than on deal-making.

Even if that was meant to be her mission. She’d been sent to Teyvat for, among other things, vengeance against the Heavenly Principles. Even if she’d wanted to disobey ‘O’ and ‘N,’ her deals with Deshret and Nabu reaffirmed her end goal, so she had no choice but to train and amass more power so she could actually take on God god. That meant making deals and dream lessons, and–

“Excuse me, you five.”

Sharzad opened her mouth to echo the word five, only to realise that the person who’d approached them was Ganyu. Though her voice was as soft and friendly as it had been when they’d first met her, it was tinged with a nervousness that immediately threw up a dozen red flags.

“Ganyu?” Sharzad stood, brushing bits of grass from her legs. “What’s up?”

“Lady Ningguang wishes to meet with you at the Jade Chamber. Immediately.”

That wasn’t a nice invitation. Hadn’t the original meeting with Ningguang been kind of chill? Just an invitation to prove the Traveler’s innocence rather than something so ominous.

NEW QUEST

Threatening Tide

Go to the Jade Chamber and see what Ningguang wants

The new quest window wasn’t helping. Threatening Tide? Beyond being just ominous, it sounded downright dangerous. Was this the next step in the Archon Quest?

Aether, likely also sensing the tension , leapt to his feet. “Why?”

“I cannot share the details in such a public space, but it directly concerns you, Miss Sharzad.” Ganyu paused, swallowing, before adding: “And–and the Fatui.”

Notes:

I, for once in my life, have no notes for a chapter. That's in part because this is meant to be a bridge between the adeptal interlude-thing and the actual main plot of the Archon Quest. So, next week, we'll see Sharzad's confrontation with Childe!

Also, a few other updates:

1) With the version 5.6 trailer we got, I wanted to wait and see whether the Ragbros got a canon reconciliation or not (since they were fighting together on the bridge). I wanted to see whether canon had anything I could use or avoid for mine. Since that isn't the case, the Diluc and Kaeya reconciliation chapter is officially in the works. I don't know how long it will be, but it will be uploaded to the bonus chapter fic as soon as it's done and edited.

2) I'm going to try to catch up on writing a bit so I have more time to work on the Haikaveh fic. I'd like to have it done so I can start posting around Kaveh's birthday, so watch out for that. Uploads will probably be slower for that one (like, every two weeks or something) but it will be completed before I start posting so it means guaranteed uploads.

3) I may start uploading new chapters later in the day since morning uploads are great but can stress me out if I procrastinate writing chapters until the last minute. So, if I don't upload around the same time next week, don't worry, the update will probably be posted later in the day

4) Bolero hit 300 Kudos this week, and Whirling of Leaves and Petals is getting closer to 1000 Kudos! I wanted to thank you all for the love and support you've given to this fic, especially those of you who've been reading this since the beginning. Your comments and Kudos are amazing and encourage me to keep going at this fic, and I want to see it through to the end now more than ever!

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general, check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 12: Chapter II: Threatening Tide

Notes:

I'm trying something new for this chapter: so, starting from the line "Immediately, the notes of a veritable army of cellos filled his ears," you can play this playlist to hear what the characters are hearing for the last half of this chapter!

QUEST

Threatening Tide

Confront Childe at the Golden House

The Jade Chamber was utterly beautiful. A marvel of engineering Sharzad immediately wanted to drag her father to. Between the concept, its execution, and the beauty of both the floating building and the view it provided, the Jade Chamber was a perfect location for Kaveh to analyze.

Unfortunately, Sharzad was not here to marvel at the architectural wonder, something made clear by the Millelith watching them as they stepped off the floating platform that took them to the Jade Chamber. They weren’t even given the privilege of entering the floating palace, either, as Ningguang awaited them in front of the main doors. How lovely.

The woman’s red gaze was steely, not regal like Deshret’s was but intimidating nonetheless. Sharzad recognized the yellow, white, and black outfit she wore from Genshin Impact, but found herself surprised by the color of Ningguang’s hair. She’d always assumed it was completely white like Cyno’s hair, but it turned out that the Tianquan’s hair was platinum blond. Like, Draco Malfoy platinum blond.

The images that name brought forth to her mind didn’t help her already anxious mental state, as Sharzad was suddenly imagining the stern-looking woman hissing her name and titles with disdain, upper lip curling as if the mere syllables were enough to sicken her.

“Stay calm,” Deshret told her. “You have more authority than she has. You do not need to bow down to her will.”

Ganyu brought them right in front of the Tianquan. “Lady Ningguang. I’ve brought them.”

“Thank you, Ganyu. You may go if you wish.”

After nodding, Ganyu walked off. Ningguang gave off the impression that they were in private despite the Millelith soldiers stationed every few metres around the edge of the Jade Chamber.

“Welcome,” Ningguang told them. There was the barest hint of a smile on her face, as if the upward quirk of her lips was nothing more than a way to lower their guard. “I have been waiting for you.”

Sharzad did her best to keep her nerves from affecting her posture, realigning her spine so it was straighter than usual. “Hopefully not too long.”

“Of course not. Time lost is Mora lost, after all.”

“Only for those with business as their only means of power,” Deshret said disdainfully. “Only for mortals playing at being god.”

Sharzad filed that away for later. Now was not the time to debate the merits of capitalist society or the merchant class. She’d dealt with enough of that back on Earth, and she wanted to hold on to the bliss of living in Sumeru’s education-based society with its more socialist aspects like free healthcare and education.

“Then why not avoid wasting time, Lady Ningguang?” Sharzad proposed, using the form of address Ganyu had used moments earlier. “Ganyu mentioned something involving me and the Fatui but didn’t elaborate further.”

Ningguang held her gaze for a moment, eyes calm but nonetheless calculating. “You were at the Rite of Descension, correct? I recently corresponded with the Acting Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius, and after she mentioned you, I decided to keep tabs on you three.”

Paimon shrieked. “You’ve been watching us this whole time?!”

“Naturally. You are a very interesting group. Granted, it has been difficult to even hear of you ever since the Rite of Descension. You disappear quite quickly, Your Highness, I’ll give you that.”

It was interesting how much could be said with two simple words. While Sharzad had been upfront about her identity, she certainly hadn’t been parading it around. Ningguang really had been observing them for a while.

“Huh.” With a tilt of her head, Sharzad summoned her horns, wrapping a crown of Sumeru roses around her head for good measure. “Guess there’s no point in stalling, is there? However, given time is of the essence, I would rather you be honest with me rather than fool around with useless pleasantries, Lady Ningguang.”

Deshret nodded in approval at her phrasing; Sharzad took it as a sign to continue formalizing her language, at least for the time being.

“With pleasure, Your Highness. I hope this means I have your trust.”

Sharzad only nodded rather than giving any specifics.

“You’re well aware that Rex Lapis perished at the Rite of Descension. What you likely don’t know is that the Exuvia was removed soon after due to different rumors blaming parties including the adepti, the Fatui, and the Liyue Qixing for the assassination. Naturally, we wished to avoid any possibility of dissent, so we moved the Exuvia and did our utmost to suppress any particularly harmful gossip.”

Nabu burst out laughing. “The adepti, murder Morax? Wait until Ping hears about this hahahahaha–”

Doing her best to ignore the giggling goddess, Sharzad crossed her arms. “And you stored the Exuvia in the most secure place in the area: the Golden House. I take it the Fatui broke in earlier today?”

“Just one Fatuus approached the Golden House not too long ago. On his way there, he attacked a contingent of Millelith and sent a single messenger to demand that I summon you to the Golden House for a duel, or else he would destroy the Exuvia and steal the Geo Gnosis.”

It took Sharzad a moment to process this. Afterwards, she went to run a hand through her hair, only to be stopped by the flower crown and her horns. There was only one person in Liyue insane enough to try to steal the Gnosis while simultaneously luring someone powerful into a death match.

“That absolute moron–”

Ningguang nodded in agreement. “We both agree that it is a harebrained move for any Harbinger, especially since he is aware that the Qixing has been watching the Fatui since their presence in Liyue began to increase a year ago. But given the danger to the Exuvia, not to mention the role of the Gnosis in the minting of Mora, I see no reason to object to his demands.”

“What?!” Paimon shouted.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sharzad saw Aether looking just as surprised as their floating companion.

Whatever hints of a smile remained on Ningguang’s face disappeared, replaced by a serious frown. “Your casual displays of elemental power clearly indicate your strength. Additionally, Ganyu has confided in me that your predecessor was offered a Gnosis directly from Celestia, suggesting that your gesture a moment ago—the horns and crown of flowers—displays a mere fragment of what you are capable of. I see no reason why you would not defeat Tartaglia in a direct confrontation.”

“That’s really confident for a businesswoman,” Aether commented.

Which was true. While Sharzad wasn’t an economist by any means (in fact, she quite abhorred that side of the Vahumana Darshan, much more than she ever disliked politics), she knew that businesspeople rarely made decisions without inspecting every potential outcome. Ningguang’s supposed complete confidence in Sharzad’s abilities suggested that she had been watching Sharzad at least since she’d set foot in Liyue. Did she read the old court documents and articles like Diluc and Neuvillette had? It was likely, especially given Liyue’s proximity to Sumeru. Those documents would be easily acceptable.

Alternatively, Ningguang was just trying to flatter her, hoping that Sharzad’s youth meant that she was impulsive and prone to people-pleasing.

“The facts speak for themselves. I would not be here if I did not have confidence in Her Highness’ abilities.”

Sharzad tilted her head. Ningguang’s reluctance to use Sharzad’s name was unfamiliar, official in a way that unsettled her. It was one thing to be referred to as Your Highness by divine beings like the adepti or the Archons, who could interact with Deshret and Nabu or even knew them when they’d been alive. Ningguang was the first person to address her that way for purely political reasons, and that was an acknowledgement of authority Sharzad wasn’t entirely prepared to process.

“You’re tense,” Deshret told her.

Noticing the building ache in her shoulders, Sharzad forced herself to take a long, slow breath to relax her posture slightly. Not too much—just enough so she didn’t look too nervous. So she looked regal and confident rather than like a child puffing out their chest to look bigger.

She put one of her hands on her hip. “You want me to deal with this?”

“Tartaglia is asking for you, after all. Only, please, try not to damage the Golden House. It is a building of historical value.”

“I’m an archaeologist, Lady Ningguang, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Sharzad was about to turn to head for the edge of the platform when she remembered something. “Should I return here afterwards?”

“Certainly. I was hoping to schedule a friendly meeting between the two of us.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

~~~

The path to the Golden House was littered with the unconscious bodies of the Millelith soldiers unfortunate enough to run afoul of Childe. Blood pooled by some of them, though a quick look at the injuries showed that they were mostly shallow cuts. Things that wouldn’t be lethal.

That’s nice of him.

Already, medics and fresh soldiers dispatched by the Qixing tended to the wounded, slowly hauling the fallen soldiers out of the courtyard to be seen to. The operation was slow-moving but clearly effective, and that, in Aether’s opinion, was what mattered.

The doors to the Golden House were massive, covered in, unsurprisingly, gilded inlays with subtle motifs of dragon scales. Aether would have appreciated their craftsmanship more had they not been the gateway to a duel with a Fatui Harbinger.

Sharzad paused at the entrance, hand halfway to the doors. Turning her head, she shot Paimon and Aether a stern look. “You two should stay back.”

“What? Why?” Paimon exclaimed. “You’re not going to go in there alone, are you?”

“I have my gods. I’m not alone.” Sighing, she added, “I can’t guarantee your safety. Childe may seem like he’s careful enough to avoid casualties, but what if he attacks you to force my hand?”

Aether crossed his arms. “I’ll protect both of us.”

Sharzad held his gaze for a long moment. Neither blinked in this sudden contest of wills.

There was no way she was going in there alone. Childe was clearly more unstable than he’d given him credit for, and Aether was not about to let Sharzad throw herself in there without proper backup (that is, backup that could actually interact with the physical world, unlike a certain pair of ghost gods).

“I–” breaking away, Sharzad turned back to the door. “–fine. But stay back, and don’t engage unless I directly call for you. For whatever reason he’s decided, this is between me and him only.”

And then she pushed the door open like it wasn’t a big deal. A shimmering golden barrier replaced the doors immediately, but she passed beyond it like it wasn’t there. Following her lead, Aether walked through the energy barrier, Paimon floating just behind him.

Immediately, the notes of a veritable army of cellos filled his ears. An ominous melody echoed in the massive vault, a slow march all too creepy to belong to a bank vault.

The central space of the Golden House was an octagonal platform, surrounded on all sides by a trench filled with Mora like some strange lazy river. A walkway permitted access to all the walls, but it was a sizable jump away from the central platform.

Directly across from the entrance, the Exuvia slumbered in a prison of swirling elemental power, its only signs of divinity in its size and golden horns. The rest of the false corpse had faded to a brown so dark it matched the black-brown of the Golden House’s shiny floor. It was nothing like it had been at the Rite of Descension. Nothing like a god.

And there, in the center of that octagonal platform paced Childe. His posture was relaxed, confident in his victory before the first blows had even been struck. Frowning suspiciously, Aether led Paimon a few paces sideways, onto the walkway between the wall and the Mora-filled trench.

“You can hear the music too, right?” Paimon whispered to him. “Paimon’s not going crazy?”

The orchestra in the background continued to play, accompanied by the chimes of a strange, bell-sounding instrument. “No. You’re not.”

Meanwhile, Childe spread his arms wide in a gesture Aether had long learned to associate with show-off, villainous characters. What a warning sign—he could almost see people like Loki in his mind’s eye.

“Your Highness! I’m glad to see you got my message. I was starting to worry that I would steal the Gnosis without a fight.”

Steal the Gnosis? That was what La Signora did with Venti, right? The same deal was happening in Liyue, too? Aether frowned—that happening twice in a row meant that the Fatui were clearly working on a scale much bigger than he’d anticipated them to be, especially this soon after his arrival. Usually, there was a six month to a year’s delay between meeting the villains and them launching a world-ending operation.

“You’d be getting the fight anyway, I’m sure. But why me specifically, Tartaglia? There’s got to be a deeper reason since you went through the trouble of unnecessary theatrics to lure me here.”

Sharzad didn’t sound done, per se, but her voice had a strangely exasperated tone to it, as if she couldn’t wait for the day to be over. Which was entirely fair considering they’d journeyed to Liyue Harbor from Jueyun Karst that morning only to find themselves dragged into whatever was going on right now.

Childe’s smile was sharp as knives. “As the Tsaritsa’s vanguard, I have a solemn duty to fulfill her wishes. And she asked me to track down a certain horned creature that tore off her Eighth Harbinger’s arm. If it couldn’t be convinced to leave the Fatui alone or join or side, I was ordered to slay it.”

Would Sharzad even bother siding with the Fatui? Would she agree to leave them alone even when they were seeking out the Gnoses? Given her reaction to Signora attacking Venti, Aether couldn’t see Sharzad standing by more Gnosis thefts.

“The Tsaritsa said she has to . . . die?” Paimon echoed in a horrified whisper.

“Not necessarily,” Aether reassured her, although it was partly to convince himself.

Sharzad stayed silent for at least ten seconds before doubling over and bursting out laughing (a light word for the laughter, which could have been more realistically described as cackling). This turn of events was so unexpected that even Childe seemed surprised, if his perplexed expression was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry not to ruin this whole villain deal you have going on but–” she choked on another laugh, barely straightening her posture before collapsing again, her whole body shaking. “–hahahahahaha–”

The Fatui Harbinger frowned, seeming much less intimidating than he had moments earlier. “Hey, hey. What’s so funny?”

Every word leaving Sharzad’s mouth sounded strained with barely held-back laughter. “I accidentally tear off one person’s arm and suddenly a god wants me on her side or dead! Sweet Archons— hahahahaha— how big of a threat did Signora make me look? Be honest.”

“The arm loss did most of the work.” Childe tilted his head. “Was that seriously an accident?”

Sharzad nodded.

The ginger-haired man observed her for a moment before holding a hand out. “Listen: I don’t make a habit of fighting kids, but I’m under orders from the Tsaritsa to stop you from disrupting Fatui operations. You can either fight me now or promise to never thwart Fatui plans. And if you want, I could even put in a good word with Her Majesty—with your power, I’m sure she’d be willing to make you a Harbinger.”

By now, Sharzad’s laughter had subsided. She scoffed. “I’ve already pledged my services to several other deities, thanks.” A sword materialised in her hand, its mostly white form glowing green along the blade. “But if it’s a fight you want, you can have it. And you can tell the Tsaritsa that I will not affect Fatui business if it is conducted fairly with respect to all parties involved or affected by said business.” She paused, probably for effect, before continuing. “I don’t deliberately seek out the Fatui to disrupt their affairs, but understand: I swore to the Goddess of Flowers that I would protect humanity, and I intend to fulfill that promise. That means that when Dottore experiments on innocent civilians or Signora steals power from gods, I will mete out punishment accordingly.”

Her pronouncement was met with dead silence for a moment.

Childe took his turn to laugh. “Hahahaha! I’ll make sure to turn your attention to The Doctor when I’m able, Your Highness. But before I leave, I’d like to take up that offer of a battle—I’ve wanted to defeat you in combat for ages.”

“Defeat? Bold word choice for someone who’s about to get his ass kicked.”

Delighted, Childe laughed. “Fighting words, I love it! I’ve heard great things about you, so don’t you dare disappoint me.” Twin swords made of pure Hydro appeared in his hands. “This may be your only chance to fight a Fatui Harbinger.”

Sharzad replied with, “Falsehood,” before charging right at the Harbinger.

Immediately, the music—which had faded into the background sometime between the talking starting and Sharzad bursting out laughing—switched to something Aether could only describe as a boss theme. For a second, he wondered if he and Paimon were jointly hallucinating the sudden soundtrack, but that theory vanished when Childe (after dodging Sharzad’s straightforward attack) turned his head, probably searching for the source of the music.

Boss music, Aether reminded himself. Why was there boss music? And why was Sharzad the only one not confused by this? Neither of her gods were deities of music, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t made a deal with a deity of music, either.

“Whoa . . . she’s dodging all his attacks!”

That was true—Sharzad moved across the ground with startling fluidity, easily avoiding the barrage of arrows, sword strikes, and blasts of Hydro headed her way. Even when Childe lunged at her, she simply leapt backwards, replacing herself with plants that, among other things, had thorns, puffed out blasts of pollen, or just simply created a barrier for Childe to run into.

Are her gods telling her where to hit?

Leaning on the walkway railing, Aether watched Sharzad carefully, trying to see whether she was being told what was going on in advance. The blurs of motion and rapid movement across the area kept him from inspecting her facial expressions, but on the few occasions she stopped, Sharzad seemed way too relaxed for combat against a Fatui Harbinger.

There was more than her gods at play. Something connected to the music, he was sure of it.

“Not bad!” Childe stopped in the center of the octagonal platform, dismissing his swords as quickly as they’d appeared. “You've got a trick or two. Guess I should take this more seriously.”

A dome of Hydro enveloped him, the occasional crackles of purple Electro coursing through the construct. Meanwhile, Sharzad had slowed to a stop and seemed to be gesturing at something invisible in front of her. The movement of her shoulders indicated that she was panting, but then—she straightened, breathing normal again just in time for Childe’s bubble to disappear.

What did she do? Aether asked himself, only to get distracted by Childe’s sudden outfit change.

The red mask he normally wore was drawn over his face, his clothing unchanged save for a strange red-black glow as if he’d applied a camera filter over himself. In his hands now sat a spear of that same purple Electro energy, and it even seemed like he’d swapped his Hydro Vision for an Electro one.

Which wasn’t possible.

“Good, you’re done with your magical girl transformation,” Sharzad said. “Let’s start Phase Two before I get bored.”

“Bored while fighting a Harbinger?” Childe’s mask concealed a smile, Aether was sure of it. “This opportunity is–”

Somehow, Sharzad joined him to finish his statement. “–quite hard to come by.”

Aether’s brain short-circuited.

She knows this fight. She’s done this before.

Boss music. An ability to pull food out of nowhere and heal from it. Knowing the fight with Childe as if she had it memorized. Phase Two.

Oh, Aether realized. Video game mechanics.

~~~

Fighting Childe, while not the easiest battle Sharzad had fought since her reincarnation, was certainly the most entertaining. For the first time, she had actual, unique boss music playing in the background, and the moveset was so achingly familiar that even from a first person point of view, even without a dedicated team of characters with varied elements, she could hold her own against the Harbinger.

And she hadn’t even pulled out Deshret’s powers yet.

Or, she hadn’t until his little transformation sequence into his Delusion form. Since he was going to level up as time went on, Sharzad saw no point in showing her cards all at once. It would only exhaust her and, frankly, she still had a while to go before this all ended.

Thankfully, she had the chance to select a portion of Aaru mixed rice and another of pita pockets from her Inventory, which handily reinvigorated her (hooray for stamina dishes) and healed whatever minor injuries she’d sustained from Childe. Deshret and Nabu watched her carefully from the sidelines, not interfering but certainly not completely passive either—they called out warnings or compliments as spectators were wont to do, but the commentary wasn’t particularly disruptive.

Especially since she knew this fight so well.

It was weird that playing that domain once every few weeks for years paid off the way it did. It was one thing to play it for character material, or to test out new team compositions, but it was another thing to live through this boss fight. To hear the boss music in the background and feel a thousand times more epic because of it. To know the signs of an oncoming attack and accurately predict what it was going to be and where it would come from.

So, when Childe activated his Electro Delusion and charged, she anticipated his move immediately, leaping sideways to avoid his double slash. Lightning sparked, leaving behind the distinct smell of ozone.

The next time he moved towards her, she dodged again, curving around him to slash her sword at his back. No blood followed the slashing of fabric, but his health bar dropped by a negligible amount.

Childe turned to face her, only to find a wall of sand blocking his path. Sharzad took the opportunity to create more of the substance, enough to cover the floor in a thin layer of sand.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t go easy on me?” Sharzad taunted after evading yet another Electro-filled attack.

“You should be glad I’m giving you a fighting chance.”

The sand surrounding Childe rose up at Sharzad’s command. After forming two walls on either side of him, Sharzad slammed them into one another. Unfortunately, Childe escaped the attack.

Sharzad compensated for the miss by wrapping sand particles around Childe’s ankle. Quickly solidifying the rope of sand, she bound it to the ceiling and yanked him upwards. The Harbinger yelped in surprise.

“A fighting chance?” She echoed. “Sounds awfully like going easy on me.”

The area at her feet lit up purple, sending her scrambling sideways just before a bolt of lightning struck where she’d been standing. Sand rained downwards, the construct dissipating as quickly as it appeared.

Childe landed six feet away from her, blade back in his hands. “I’d say the same to you. Given your reputation, I’d expect half my limbs to be bloody. But you’re not even trying to kill me.”

“If I wanted to kill you, a god would have taken over my body by now. This is meant to be a friendly spar, nothing more.” Eyes narrowed, she tilted her head at him. “Besides, you’re not using your full power, either.”

“Why are you taunting him?” Deshret demanded. “He will no doubt take the bait, reckless as he is–”

Sharzad launched herself sideways as Childe charged, slashing one, two, three times in a row, each slash getting closer to her. The next attack came too fast for her to dodge, so she raised her sword to parry it instead, combining the block with a ray of piercing sunlight directed at Childe’s masked face.

Apparently, his mask actually had eyeholes, as he stumbled backwards to avoid the glare. Sharzad didn’t lunge forward to stab him like common sense dictated. Instead, she stayed back, pulling all the sand in the room towards Childe until, like with the Abyss Herald in Mondstadt, he was buried in it.

Except for his head, of course—Sharzad wasn’t a monster.

“How’s that?” she asked.

“I’m disappointed. I could have been fighting you at full power this whole time.” Childe rose a few feet into the air, water and Abyssal-tainted Electro swirling around his feet. “Perhaps this will push you over the edge. Foul Legacy - The Devouring Deep!”

Sharzad, wanting to be polite as he went through his little transformation sequence, got rid of the pile of sand and waited patiently for him to finish putting on his new outfit.

“What are you doing?!” Deshret yelled. “Finish him while he’s distracted!”

“See, I would, Deshret, but I’m polite enough to let him go through his transformation sequence. It’s a cardinal rule in anime to never interrupt someone when they’re going through one.”

“What in the Abyss is an anime?”

The change in music dragged Sharzad’s attention back to Childe or, rather, Tartaglia, Childe, The Eleventh of the Eleventh Fatui Harbingers, as the System so helpfully proclaimed.

“That looks different than I expected,” she blurted before stopping herself.

And it was true. Part of it was the whole inhuman factor that Sharzad was so used to given the presence of two gods tied to her soul, but at the same time, the Foul Legacy’s outfit was so . . . over the top ridiculous that part of Sharzad had to admire how extra Childe was. Beyond the black armor embellished with midnight purple and red lines (and gems, of course), the transformation boasted a ridiculous fur collar, a large cape seemingly woven from the universe itself, and a horned mask with one glowing eye at the center of it.

How did I not notice this ridiculousness when I played Genshin?

She didn’t really have time to figure that out, because Childe attacked once more and, this time, he was cutting it close.

“Oh, good,” she said, summoning another mountain of sand. “You’re finally trying.”

Notes:

Soooo, fun fact, this chapter got so long that I had to split the Sharzad vs Childe fight, otherwise this thing would be a behemoth twice as long as the rest of the chapters in this fic.

1) Sharzad's reaction to Ningguang's hair is just mine when I was writing this, since I was analyzing her outfit for description purposes, only to find out that her "white" hair is actually platinum blonde (can you tell I don't play Ningguang?).

2) Some of Ningguang's dialogue in this scene is inspired from the original scene in the Archon Quest "Equilibrium," where the Traveler meets Ningguang for the first time.

3) Fun fact: while it's not mentioned, Sharzad made use of Dvalin's blessing and jumped off the Jade Chamber to get to the Golden House faster. Rest assured, everyone on the Jade Chamber who saw this happen thinks she's crazy now.

4) The background music appears for the first real time! I have a soft spot for Childe's boss music in particular because it's some of the first I ever listened to when I first found out Genshin releases its music.

5) Same as with Ningguang, some of Childe's dialogue during the battle is taken from his actual boss domain. Fun times

Hope you enjoyed, as always. Next week's chapter is going to be very interesting and I can't wait to see all of your reactions! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 13: Chapter II: Deal Sealed in Amber

Notes:

Just like last week, this chapter has a playlist! Click this link to hear what the characters are hearing, and you can switch the themes when you read the sentence "No. No. No way, no–" about halfway through this chapter. Enjoy!

QUEST

Deal Sealed in Amber

Make your deal with Morax

By all accounts, Childe should have been having the time of his life. In fact, anyone who even remotely knew him would probably watch his current battle and rightfully assume he was having the time of his life. After all, this was probably the first battle in years (against a non-Harbinger) Childe was actually struggling with. He was being challenged by this fight, something he’d been begging Celestia for ever since he crawled his way back out of the Abyss at the age of fourteen.

Finally, a true test of skill! is what he would have declared, but unfortunately for Childe’s more bloodthirsty inclinations, his current battle came with a lot more questions than answers. Questions he had to ask himself, like:

1. Signora made it seem like Sharzad’s attack was purposeful, so why did Sharzad say tearing off the Eighth Harbinger's arm was an accident? Given the current state of Childe’s limbs (all attached to his body), had it truly been an accident? What did that say about the girl’s power and, more importantly, her ruthlessness?
2. The Golden House was meant to be empty, so where was that music coming from? Especially since some of its instruments sounded like nothing Childe had ever heard before. (Although, Childe could admit that, while strange, it certainly made their battle seem like one of those Fontainian action films).
3. Childe’s whole deal was being unpredictable with his attacks and weapons, so why could Sharzad so easily evade and block him? Why did she seem so confident about her every move, even after he pulled out his Delusion and then activated his Foul Legacy? Why did it look like she knew about the Foul Legacy even if that was his trump card, his secret ability no one but the highest Fatui operatives knew about (because anyone else who did encounter it typically died before telling the tale)?

Summoning a cloud of lightning, he sent four bolts of Electro meant to surround his opponent on all sides, only for the girl to jog away from the circle he’d aimed at. Repeating a move she’d done before, Sharzad then erected several walls of sand, effectively creating a maze within the Golden House.

A swift arc with his spear knocked down the walls nearest to him, only for a beam of pure light to shine directly into his face.

That was another unfortunate thing. A few minutes earlier, Sharzad had discovered that the Foul Legacy’s mask did not protect him from bright lights (it was born in the Abyss, of course it didn’t protect him from the thing that the realm swallowed up) and seemed determined to give him eye damage—if not blind him completely—by shining pure sunlight in his face at every possible opportunity.

“Is your goal to permanently damage every single Harbinger’s body?” he asked in exasperation, throwing up a clawed hand to block the sunlight from entering his mask’s eye. He hoped Sharzad’s answer would tell him where she was, and he was not disappointed.

“If that were the case,” came the reply from behind him, “You’d have received a message about Dottore suffering grievous bodily harm years ago.”

Childe whirled around, slamming his spear into something solid. The sunlight vanished, and after a cautious blink to clear away some dark spots, he found his opponent stumbling backwards, clearly unused to parrying a blow with that much force behind it. There was a polearm in her hand now, tipped on one end with gold and on the other three short ropes. Like a farmer’s flail.

Yet despite stumbling, she quickly righted herself, readjusting her grip on her weapon before charging forward, easily evading several blasts of lightning with more sand (some of which hardened to glass under the electricity’s power) or with various plants. He teleported backwards, watching her summon a massive cylindrical plant to catch one of the blasts before destroying the plant as fast as she created it.

She could do that this whole time.

“You’re still not at full strength,” he commented before darting forward again. His strike, for once, landed, planting a Riptide mark on her. A good sign—Childe was beginning to struggle to maintain his Foul Legacy, but if he could outlast or non lethally injure Sharzad, he might be able to make it through with a victory.

Sand whipped across his mask which, while useless, distracted him enough for the girl to get away and put up the sand walls again; however, with the Riptide mark, Childe didn’t have to taunt her into speaking, nor did he have to move towards her.

Drawing energy from his Vision, he raised his arms upwards like he was drawing a bow, before unleashing four Hydro-charged arrows guaranteed to cover most of the platform on which they fought.

Somewhere within the walls came a shouted “FUCK!” before the arrows fell downwards. The ensuing torrent washed away the walls of sand, and Childe prepared himself to face a drenched and thoroughly injured princess.

Instead, somehow, Sharzad remained standing, untouched from the attack save for the . . . admittedly quite pissed off expression on her face. That was new.

“You—were you trying to drown me?!”

Not in the slightest. If he had been, Childe would have summoned a construct in the shape of the All-Devouring Narwhal and then unleashed a flood minutes ago.

Instead of revealing the truth, Childe shrugged. “You wanted me to try harder.” He dashed forward, Electro-charged glaive already extended to strike. “That’s what you’re getting.”

Sharzad jumped back, dodging once more. “If that’s trying harder, I wonder what no-holds-barred Tartaglia actually looks like.”

The soaked sand at their feet coalesced into three snake-like constructs, each immediately heading for different parts of Childe’s body. In an attempt to avoid damage, he sliced through two of the constructs, only to find that they reformed as if his blade had never been there in the first place.

The third wrapped its way around his ankle and yanked him backwards. Thinking fast, Childe surged forward, arm already extended to snatch his opponent and restrain her–

His clawed fingers crashed into a shield made of pure Geo energy.

The force of the impact sent pain shooting up his arm, although that was momentary compared to the sensation of his entire body crashing into the shield. Out of habit, he compartmentalized the pain, setting it aside for later (with the existing pain from using his Foul Legacy for so long) while he searched for the source of the magic.

Helios wouldn’t intervene, would he?

No, the Traveller looked just as shocked at the shield’s appearance as Childe felt. But his gaze was turned towards the person who had just entered the Golden House.

Horns shaped like antlers glowed faintly even in the building’s good lighting, their brown color overlaid with a sheen of pure gold. A brown and black jacket decorated with a pattern of dragon scales fluttered elegantly as a figure with a pair of hauntingly familiar amber eyes—shining with power Childe had never thought to ascribe to this person—strolled forward, hands clasped behind his back as if he’d simply wandered into an antique shop in Liyue Harbor.

“Zhongli?!”

No. No. No way, no–

Oh sweet Tsaritsa he even had a tail. A shining, scaled, brown tail ending in a tuft of golden-yellow fur just like the Exuvia sitting right behind him. And in that case–

He’s been Morax this whole time.

In his horror, whatever mental strength he’d been using to keep up the Foul Legacy disintegrated, leaving him collapsed and heaving for breath on the cold floor of the Golden House. The strain had been too much—a few more minutes of combat would have probably done lasting damage to his body.

Footsteps rushed towards him. “Childe–”

Still panting, bones aching from the corrosive effects of Abyssal energy, Childe raised his head so he could glare at Zhongli Morax. “No.”

How was that the god he’d been told to steal from? How was that the war god so revered that Childe had itched to fight him since the opportunity presented itself? How was that a six thousand year old, inhuman emperor masquerading as a funeral consultant? He was supposed to be dead!

And yet—and yet, Childe could see it. By some twisted miracle, he could reconcile Morax and Zhongli. The god and the mortal. The king and the consultant. The leader of armies, Archon of Liyue, Lord of Geo . . . and the ever-knowledgeable, tea-loving, forgetful-but-in-an-endearing-kind-of-way man he’d fallen in love with.

Of course Zhongli forgot his Mora all the time, he could create it from thin air! Of course Zhongli knew so much about ancient Liyue and the adepti, he’d lived through all of Liyue’s history! Of course Zhongli wore clothing with a dragon motif, it represented him! Of course Zhongli had amber eyes, he was Rex Lapis in disguise, like in the tales told by the storytellers at places like Third Round Knockout! The tales Zhongli had explicitly taken Childe to hear.

Had it all been a lie? Had he known about Childe's mission since the beginning? Was everything—the shared meals, strolls through the Harbor, inspections of antiques and all manner of finery—all some elaborate ploy to manipulate the Fatui? How had he been so blind? So foolish? Had Morax just been toying with his heart this whole time, knowingly keeping him from getting the Gnosis?

The look in his eyes said otherwise. The way he extended his hand in a hesitant offer of support said otherwise. The way his tail flicked nervously from side to side said otherwise.

“Childe, I–”

“Did you know?”

Morax didn’t draw his hand back at Childe’s sharp tone, but he stopped moving it forward. His brows furrowed in a perplexed expression Childe would have called adorable in any other context. “What?”

“I said, did you know?” His voice cracked; Childe couldn’t tell if it was from unshed tears or a residual effect of the Foul Legacy. “About the plan to steal the Gnosis? About my mission?”

“Childe, I can assure you, I did not befriend you because of your identity–”

“Quit the bullshit, Morax.” Forcing himself to his feet, Childe jabbed an accusing finger towards the god, uncaring of whether Morax smited him for his insolence. If anything, it would hurt less than the sting of betrayal and heartbreak did. “Did you know? Was this—was what I thought we had–” He gestured between the two of them, voice shaking again. His throat tightened, choking back something halfway to a sob. “–this friendship, or whatever else it could’ve been—was all of this a lie? Have you been manipulating me this whole time?”

There was a moment of silence in which Childe realised there was still music playing in the background. He hadn’t even noticed that the intense theme accompanying the last part of the battle had been replaced with something soft and ominous: the same thing that played during the prelude to his fight with Sharzad.

Morax held his gaze, looking strangely puzzled for someone being confronted with his own betrayal. “I knew why you came to Liyue, Childe, but our friendship is entirely separate from your mission. And while I wished to reveal my true identity earlier, my contract with the Tsaritsa–”

Childe could have sworn he felt his heart shatter in his chest. He had half a mind to look down, expecting a bloody mess erupting from his ribcage. He’d made a contract with the Tsaritsa?! That was why Childe had been sent to Liyue? On a mission that was already won?

Does she really think that low of me? Did his queen think him that useless? Really?

Perhaps seeing the shift in his demeanor, Morax stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Childe’s shoulder. At such a close distance, he could see dozens of tiny brown and gold scales embedded in the god’s oh-so-familiar face, highlighting Morax’s cheekbones and bordering his hairline. Even in his depressed stupor, part of Childe’s mind contemplated how hot Morax looked, and somehow, he couldn’t find the spite to try and deny it. The sky was blue. Snow was white. Zhongli was a hot dragon deity who crushed Childe’s heart with his own two hands.

“I am certain she sent you here for a reason.” Morax spoke as if he was reading Childe’s mind. “She would not have done so if she was not confident in your abilities, which I understand. Already, Osial has broken free and he will strike Liyue Harbor in mere minutes. The test has begun.”

“Something’s attacking the Harbor?! For a test?!”

Childe jumped, startled at the sound of Paimon’s voice. He’d forgotten she was there, same with Helios and . . . and Sharzad, who stood off to the side with her arms crossed, a pensive look on her face. None of them seemed all that surprised at the revelation that Zhongli and Morax were one in the same. Had they known already?

After a moment, he registered what Morax said. “Osial’s free? But, he wasn’t supposed to be until I used the Sigils of Permission, and—wait, a test?”

Morax nodded. “If the people of Liyue could prove they did not need me to defend them, the Tsaritsa would receive my Gnosis.”

Huh. Recalling the initial confrontation with Sharzad, Childe spared another look at the girl, who nodded her approval. “Good deal. I won’t interfere with that one.” She clapped her hands as if applauding a performer. “You get to keep your limbs, Tartaglia.” Then, after dropping her hands, she turned to Morax. “Two questions: why did you come here? And what do you mean, Osial broke free?”

“I sensed a surge of Amun’s power in this area and wished to see if you were alright. As for Osial . . . I sensed him breaking free not long after arriving here. I initially believed it was your plan, Childe, coming to fruition, but it appears I was mistaken.”

~~~

While Sharzad had exhausted almost all of her capacity to feel anything today, Deshret clearly had a lot more to give, as the second Zhongli said the word mistaken, the god-king let out an indignant, extremely birdlike screech.

“Mistaken?! Osial is free and the best you can say is mistaken?! He is doubtless attacking your city as we speak!”

“Amun, this is a test for my people. You cannot expect me to leave this place and go face him. My grudge with Osial was laid to rest long ago.”

“Ours wasn’t.” A multitude of eyes appeared on Nabu’s arms and face, their varied hues echoed on the wings sprouting from her back. “Especially not after he kidnapped my husband.”

“You were not yet married the first three times. He was not your husband then.”

Deshret screeched again.

Sharzad frowned. “I’m sorry, Osial did what?”

For some reason, she’d expected Nabu to be kidnapped, not Deshret.

“He once sought to wed Amun,” Zhongli explained, looking the epitome of calm and composed next to a very enraged Nabu (and a similarly pissed off Deshret). “Even in the days before the Archon War, he sent emissaries to kidnap Amun and hold him ransom, hoping he might eventually concede and marry him—it was love at first sight, according to Osial.”

Deshret’s lip curled as if he smelled something putrid. “Lust, if anything.”

“Lust at first sight,” Zhongli conceded. “He remained convinced of this after the beginning of the Archon War and hoped that by taking up the role of Archon, he might win Amun’s favor. He and Nabu have fought countless times as a result, and while their hatred is . . . reasonable, Osial was convinced that Nabu bewitched Amun into loving her. Yet in his determination, Osial committed atrocities infinitely worse than what Amun or Nabu ever did in the hopes of seducing the former.”

“Hmm.” Sharzad filed that away for later. Warrior queen Nabu going to rescue her king . . . hmmm.

“Hey, hey, wait a minute—who are you talking to?” Childe gestured at the space where Deshret was, but Sharzad guessed it wasn’t because he could see the god-king. “There’s no one there.”

Zhongli coughed into his fist. “Ah, right, you cannot interact with Amun or Nabu, much like our friends Helios and Paimon. My apologies.”

“The ones you can’t see are Deshret and Nabu Malikata,” Sharzad explained. “Two gods, some of Morax’s oldest friends, my patrons, and my predecessors. Deshret, or Amun, as Morax knows him, was the King of the Great Red Sand before me.”

“Is,” Deshret corrected.

Sharzad nodded. “Is the King of the Great Red Sand. Eternally, I guess.”

Childe stared at her for a moment and, probably after realizing she was being serious, started laughing shakily. Every so often, the laugh would turn into a hacking cough, but it seemed like he couldn’t stop himself.

(Sharzad’s brain, the traitor, sang the phrase "It's a mental breakdown", to the tune of “The Final Countdown,” complete with off-key kazoo.)

Paimon stared at Childe in bewilderment. “Are–are you okay?” She glanced at Aether, whose facial expression made Sharzad think he’d seen this type of breakdown before. “Is he okay?”

“I believe the truth is too much for him,” Zhongli mused. “It is understandable considering the degree of information he has just received. Perhaps it would be best for me to take him to Baizhu at Bubu Pharmacy so he may recuperate.”

“While we battle Osial?” Aether asked. He didn’t look particularly enthused at the prospect.

“If it is not too much trouble, yes. In fact, would you be kind to join the battle now, Paimon and Helios? I would like to discuss my contract with Sharzad, but it would be best if Liyue’s defenders receive fresh support sooner rather than later.”

“You’ll be quick?” Instead of directing his question to Zhongli, Aether was watching Sharzad.

“As fast as we can be,” she promised. “I already have something in mind, so hopefully we can either postpone this negotiation if he doesn’t like my proposal, or we’ll make the deal now and I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

Aether nodded, and after a moment’s pause, left the Golden House with Paimon. At this point, Childe had stopped laughing, but the look in his eyes was empty like he wasn’t entirely present in the moment.

“He’s in shock,” Deshret said. “You will apologize, won’t you Morax? He seems an honorable sort despite his questionable tendencies to battle everything that can move.”

“I will not abandon him so easily, Amun.” Determination and something else, something softer, shone in Zhongli’s gaze. “Especially if there is a chance that he feels the same as I do.”

These two dumbasses are so pathetically in love I swear to GOD–

“Can I ask—is it a god thing to be so dramatic about love interests?” Sharzad asked. “Or is it just you guys? Honestly, you put Fontainian love novels to shame with the sheer amount of dramatic proclamations and protective rage.”

Nabu shrugged. “Perhaps it is the eons of war that made us so, or perhaps it is built into our nature. I do not know, and I do not believe these two know, either.”

“Maybe it is natural, if Osial was so ride or die for you, Desh—oh, right. Osial.” She pointed her index fingers at one another and moved her hands in a circle motion. “Can we maybe get on that? You have to know why he’s here if it’s not the Sigils of Permission Childe planned on using.”

“He’s likely here for the same reason Morax came. My power.”

Meaning Sharzad’s power, the one she used during her battle with Childe. Was she really that strong with the handicap from Deshret’s deal? She’d pushed her current limit at a few points, most notable with the sand mazes. Her attempts to generate several walls only created thin constructs rather than thick ones capable of protecting her for longer.

Is that really it?

Her eyes widened, and she stared at her hands. “I’m that–my power’s that strong?”

“You forget. Osial adores Amun.” Just uttering the phrase seemed to disgust Nabu more than anything in the world. “The second he confirmed his presence in Liyue—yours in reality, but its energy is near-identical to Amun’s—he immediately came running to spirit him away once more.” Nabu frowned. “And perhaps he’s also come to challenge me.”

“Well, you’re ghosts, so that’s impossible, isn’t it?”

“I think being bound to your soul is the greater obstacle to his plight than our ghost-hood, but definitely.”

Unless Osial had some weird soul-related abilities, but given he was a god of the ocean and storms (as far as Sharzad knew, anyway), she figured it wasn’t the case.

“We’ll address this history later, I think.” Sharzad held her hand out to Zhongli. “Would you like to settle this deal business now, Morax? I sought out the adepti as you asked, and I have made my decision about what I want.”

“And what would that be?” the dragon deity asked, his expression the pinnacle of benign neutrality. Sharzad was suddenly reminded of Dumbledore from Harry Potter, a thought that brought up a dozen complex feelings she was no way equipped to unpack at the moment.

“I was originally going to ask for meteorites, the kind that could temporarily petrify my enemies.” Gesturing to the Golden House, she continued, “But after seeing what your shields are capable of, I want to ask for those instead, for the ability to shield myself and anything I wish to protect.”

Meteorites or some other weaponized ability would do no good in the long run. During the fight with Childe (especially once he’d gone Foul Legacy on her) Sharzad realized that dodging could only go so far, especially if she ended up facing an enemy she wasn’t used to in single combat. She wouldn’t always be able to guarantee who she fought—the Abyss’ attack on Mondstadt was a clear indicator of that, since the initial storyline should have seen her fighting Dvalin with the rest of the gang.

Just because she knew a story didn’t mean it wasn’t subject to change, and she wasn’t willing to risk putting her family, her friends, or even civilians and bystanders in danger. That would do no one any good.

“An unexpected choice, seeing as my adepti certainly regaled you with tales of the Archon War and the ensuing centuries. Yet I understand why you have changed your mind. It is a decision I had to make several millennia ago, one I have not regretted in the slightest since.”

Sharzad smiled in satisfaction. “Then we’re in agreement.”

“Indeed. Now, to discuss the terms of exchange . . . what might I ask of you in return? Has your assistance been enough, or would additional compensation be required?”

“I’ll pay you Mora for your mortal form,” she offered. “I have too much of it.”

“It would look too suspicious, I am afraid, and may result in lasting negative consequences for Liyue’s economy. Hmm.” Zhongli stroked his chin for a long, long moment, before turning, not to Sharzad, but to Deshret. “Would you offer a duel or two, I wonder? For the sake of our shared past? I have missed our spars, old friend.”

Deshret’s eyes gleamed as he smiled, almost too kindly for someone reciprocating the offer of a duel. “If Sharzad is willing, then certainly. I have also missed our duels, Morax.”

“As long as you take care of my body when you’re in it, then sure, Deshret.” Sharzad shrugged. “I don’t mind. But is it enough to compensate for the power? You mentioned that helping you with the Rite of Parting might be included with that: is that what you want?”

“The worth of such a duel is more you understand, but perhaps there is merit to your point.” After pausing for breath, Zhongli directed his attention to her. “Would you be willing to duel me as well, Sharzad? You are the inheritor of Amun and Nabu’s collective legacies, and while you seemed quite unenthused at the prospect of dueling me last week, I believe you have proven your strength beyond your previous expectations. I would like to see what you have learned, and what you are capable of.”

Him? Duel her? At least she’d had a background to go off of with Childe, but a spar with Morax, even if it was meant to cause no permanent harm? She’d be flattened before she could even attempt to fight back.

But . . . it sounded like such a spar meant a lot to Zhongli, more than Sharzad could even dream to understand. The chance to meet an old friend on the battlefield once more, to relive the days of their youth? It must be a spark of hope for one of the sole survivors of days long gone, a moment of respite from the ever-changing present. Maybe she couldn’t understand it fully, but at the same time, she would probably feel the same way if she could remember her loved ones from her previous life (not the fighting part, but the nostalgic pastime part).

“I can’t guarantee it’ll be satisfying to fight me,” she said finally. “I can’t even guarantee that I’ll survive long enough for you to deal more than a blow or two, but I’ll try my best.”

Nabu nodded her approval. “That is what matters.”

“Then it is settled.” Zhongli’s eyes glowed gold as light formed in his open palms. A scroll covered in writing appeared above his hands, and he held it out to Sharzad. “This is the complete contract, with the terms detailed below. For the sake of brevity, I shall verbally summarize them: I, Morax, by my authority as Lord of Geo and god of Liyue, hereby grant my ability to create shields of all kinds to Sharzad Athari Taftazani, Crown Princess of the Great Red Sand and inheritor to the legacies of Amun, Eternal King of the Great Red Sand, and Nabu Malikata, eternal Queen of Flowers, Oases, and Dreams, in exchange for a duel each with the aforementioned Sharzad and Amun, along with Sharzad’s formerly granted assistance in organizing my funeral. Should this contract be broken, let both parties be subject to the wrath of the rock, Deus Auri, Archon of Liyue.”

As he spoke, the text on the contract seemed to shimmer with each syllable. Morax’s voice even changed, accompanied by a strange rumble like stones disturbed during an earthquake. These were binding words, tied to a contract subject to harsh penalties if not obeyed.

“Did you put in measures to keep her from harming herself by using too much power?” Deshret asked.

“The specifics have been marked down, but in short, yes.” Once again, Zhongli directed his attention to Sharzad. “Is this satisfactory for you?”

“Yes.” She pulled a pen from her Inventory. “Where do I sign?”

Zhongli unravelled more of the scroll until it revealed two lines next to one another. She quickly signed the line with her name under it, tucking the pencil away as soon as the deed was done.

Once Morax—because this was Morax now—raised a claw and signed the contract with an elegant hand, the power surged towards her. This contract felt nothing like the breeze of Dvalin’s or the welcoming warmth of Deshret’s; instead, it felt like running straight into a mountain. Sharzad staggered back, winded, only to recover moments later as if nothing had happened in the first place. Which was technically true.

Achievement

Solid as Stone - Successfully make a deal with Morax

Collect reward in Achievements Menu? [YES]/[NO]

Sharzad selected [NO].

Meanwhile, Morax split the contract in two, neatly rolling up one copy and sealing it shut with a neat red ribbon. “Here is your copy of the contract. Keep it safe and read through it at the next opportunity.”

“Thank you, Morax,” Nabu said as Sharzad tucked the contract into her Inventory. “We will defend your city in your stead.”

“I have no doubts that Liyue Harbor will remain a safe haven. When you are finished, seek out Baizhu at Bubu Pharmacy. I will no doubt be there with Childe–” the name finally brought Sharzad’s attention back to the Harbinger in question, who had collapsed to the floor (probably from exhaustion and delirium) sometime during the discussion about the contract. “–and you will likely require healing as well.”

“If she doesn’t faint from overuse of her abilities first,” Deshret muttered. “Again.”

“I know my limits,” Sharzad said firmly. “And this time, I’m not going to charge in head on—this isn’t my battle to fight. I’ll protect the city once I figure out these shields, but besides that, we will stay low-key as long as possible.”

“So long as he doesn’t recognize you as the wielder of our abilities he sensed, you will be safe. But be careful, Sharzad—he will likely be affected by the call of your soul as much as we were.”

“Oh, right.” She laughed nervously. “I forgot about that, to be honest. Okay, maybe low-key isn’t the best option, but if it means I can distract him, that might help the Liyueans enough.”

QUEST

Deal Sealed in Amber

Complete

Rewards: 1000 Character EXP, 10000 Mora, 10 Enhancement Ore, 50 Primogems

The moment she dismissed the System, a new tab appeared, this one bearing a new task.

NEW QUEST

Turning Point

Return to the Jade Chamber

Rewards: 800 Character EXP, 38100 Mora, 1 Monolith Fragment, 10 Enhancement Ore, 30 Primogems

Notes:

When I tell you this chapter wasn't supposed to be this long-

1) Fun fact, this chapter's title (and the quest) was almost "All For the Amber Lord" as a little easter egg to Honkai: Star Rail. I decided against it at the last minute

2) When sand is hit by lightning, it creates a real-life substance known as fulgurite, or "fossilized lightning," which is something I didn't know before writing this fic. Hooray for new knowledge!

3) The cylindrical plant Sharzad summons to catch the lightning is a giant pitcher plant, just like the ones she summoned in the Mausoleum way back in the original fic

4) All of Childe's moves in this chapter (and the previous one) are taken directly from his in game moveset, complete with the requirements of placing a Riptide mark before triggering certain attacks (like the four Hydro arrows)

5) Osial was originally going to kidnap Nabu several times, but I thought it would be interesting if Deshret was the one getting kidnapped instead. We may or may not see flashbacks of this in the future

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Next week we'll see the battle with Osial and some very interesting stuff if all goes to plan. Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 14: Chapter II: Turning Point

Notes:

Once again, we have a playlist for this chapter, although it's only one song. It starts at the line "Music flooded his ears again," and ends at the line "the music stopped."

Also, I wasn't entirely sure if I needed it, but just to be safe, trigger warning for a reference to rape. It's a line or two, but it happens after the line "She's distracting him," the next two paragraphs contain references. Just in case that kind of reference triggers anyone.

Enjoy the chapter!

QUEST

Turning Point

Return to the Jade Chamber

Despite having realized that Sharzad had been hiding things from him, Aether made the decision to trust her and return to the Jade Chamber since, frankly, what could he do about the whole video game mechanics epiphany? Ask her about it? In front of a Harbinger?

He and Paimon exited the Golden House without fanfare, finding the courtyard outside devoid of Millelith and utterly soaked by pouring rain. A curtain of droplets fell from the sky above, which had darkened thanks to the stormy gray clouds hiding the brightness of the sun. Lightning flashed through the semi-darkness at intervals much too short to be anything but supernatural. The smell of rain permeated the air, pushed towards him by frigid winds, a sign that winter was not yet over despite the lack of snow (anything left over had surely melted at this point).

Above, a shadowy form Aether recognized as the Jade Chamber flew away from its usual location, untethered from its moorings and fighting against the winds to stay afloat. It headed for the main harbor, before vanishing over the high mountain walls enclosing the Golden House’s main building.

Aether raced after it. “Come on, Paimon!”

His companion didn’t protest at the weather for once, zipping after him as they raced through the sheet of rain. The downpour plastered his hair to his face, and would have no doubt soaked his clothes had they not been enchanted to repel the elements.

They followed the shadowy outline of the Jade Chamber down the road to Liyue Harbor, only stopping for a short break when it became clear that the storm was affecting more than just the land.

In the bay by the harbor, surrounded by whirling waterspouts, were the many heads of a hydra made of glowing water. It cast an otherworldly light across the water’s surface, its power seeping into the environment like a choking curse, ebbing and flowing with the waves its massive body stirred. It was an order to bow, to worship, to flee and allow this behemoth—this god— free rein over the harbor.

And that thing, according to Zhongli, probably came for Sharzad. Because of course it did.

“Sharzad better finish up her deal and fast,” Aether groaned. “Because I’m not fighting that thing for long.”

He didn’t fancy taking a dip in the Sea of Clouds today, no thank you.

But of course, playing the hero took precedence over what he wanted, and so Aether did the smart thing: hugging Paimon to his chest and sprinting towards the Jade Chamber.

“How are we gonna get up there if it’s not attached to the ground anymore?” Paimon asked, her voice muffled by Aether’s shoulder.

“We’ll find a way.”

Somehow. He didn’t think his Anemo powers would let him get that high up, especially with the winds as strong as they were. If only the Jade Chamber had a Waypoint, then he could teleport . . . hmm. There was someone who could teleport regardless of the situation. In fact, Aether had experienced it firsthand before, and he’d been personally told by Cloud Retainer that all he had to do was call the person by name.

“Xiao?” he asked the empty air. The wind roared past his ears, muffled slightly by the overpowering sounds of the downpour. “We need you.”

Nothing. Silence.

And then, from behind him–

“You called?”

Paimon slipped out of Aether’s arms, shrieking in surprise. “Ahh!” After recognizing the adeptus, she put her hands on her hips and pouted. “Don’t scare Paimon like that!”

Xiao didn’t even bother looking at her, training his gaze on Aether instead. His hair, too, was soaked from the rain, although he looked surprisingly comfortable for someone drenched by a malevolent god’s storm. As usual, his arms were crossed, though his expression seemed slightly less glowery than before. Maybe that was a sign of progress.

“You should be sheltering—Osial has escaped his prison, and–”

“We know.” Holding a hand out, Aether nodded his head slightly. “We want to help.”

Incredulous might have been an understatement for how Xiao looked at him. “You are serious?” he asked after a moment, before adding, “And, what about that gi–” he cleared his throat. “–Her Highness?”

“Finishing something up with Morax. But I called you because we needed help getting up to the Jade Chamber, and I figured since you can teleport . . .”

“You want me to take you there,” Xiao finished. Not a question, but a statement.

“Please.”

And without missing a beat, the adeptus grabbed Aether by the waist, took Paimon’s arm with his other hand, and teleported them skyward, right onto the Jade Chamber.

A dome of gold-coloured energy shielded the building from the worst of the rain, which explained why Ningguang had a paper battle plan spread out on the table in front of her. Gathered around her were several people (and beings), not all of whom Aether recognized.

Mountain Shaper was accompanied by a tall, young woman with silvery-white hair and clothes adorned with knots made of red ropes. Nearby stood Ganyu and Madame Ping, with a woman whom Aether could easily describe as purple, from the colour of her hair to the shade of her clothes. Even her Vision was purple—Electro.

Two Millelith soldiers flanked Ningguang, their eyes roving over the group of people, who seemed to be discussing something about the battle plan.

Moon Carver noticed them first. “Ah, you brought reinforcements, Xiao.” He dipped his horned head towards Aether and Paimon. “One thanks you for deciding to fight.”

“Why is everyone here?” Paimon asked. “Are you guys planning to fight back?”

Ningguang nodded. “With all the might of the Qixing, Millelith, and adepti. For the sake of time, I will keep this short: Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper are making emergency repairs to the Guizhong Ballista—ancient weapons designed by Guizhong, the Goddess of Dust—to aid us. Only, we still need to give them time to complete their task.”

“You need to distract him if he attacks,” Aether said, gesturing at the hydra in the distance.

“Yes. Direct confrontation at the moment would be unwise, and while I have Captain Beidou and her Crux fleet at the ready, I would rather avoid sending them anywhere near Osial.” Her fingers lingered on the pin in her hair, as if she was recalling something (or perhaps someone) important to her. “I take it Her Highness is still busy with the Harbinger?”

Aether wondered why Ningguang still kept the habit of referring to Sharzad by her title rather than her name. With most authority figures, he usually referred to them by title when said figures were present, or in an environment where the lack of formality would seem disrespectful. Sharzad definitely wasn’t the type of person to insist on being called Her Highness by everyone, yet Ningguang was doing so anyway. Was it a force of habit, perhaps? Or did she want to appear respectful because the adepti were present?

(Aether mentally acknowledged that Xiao, too, insisted on calling Sharzad by her title, but he figured it was because the adeptus felt like he had a debt to pay or something. He seemed like the type to feel horrendously guilty if the authority figures in his life scolded him for even the tiniest mistake.)

“They’re wrapping things up.” Paimon tapped her chin with a tiny finger, a frown on her face. “Paimon’s not really sure how long it’s going to take, but Sharzad told us to go to the Jade Chamber while she dealt with Childe.”

“She must have sensed Osial’s arrival to send you here, or perhaps Amun and Nabu did in her stead,” Moon Carver mused. “The grudge the pair have with Osial is ancient and rooted even deeper than the one between Osial and Rex Lapis. If he sensed the surge one did from one’s home on Qingyun Peak, he is no doubt on his way to seize Amun once more.”

Madame Ping made a noise suspiciously like a laugh poorly disguised as a cough. “It is a pity Amun is dead. I have fond memories of seeing him in the wedding vestments Osial forced him to wear.”

“Did you know about this?” Aether whispered to Xiao.

The adeptus shook his head. “No. Osial has since married someone.”

With perfect timing, Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper descended from the skies, touching down right as Mountain Shaper commented, in a rather bored voice, “His marriage to Beisht was nothing more than a political union. Although one understands how you did not know that—that there is quite a lot you do not know about the days before the Archon War, Alatus.”

As proven by Xiao’s initial suspicion of Sharzad and her gods. Which wasn’t entirely misplaced given the whole video game power situation.

I am seriously going to have to talk to her about that.

“Have you fixed the Ballista?” Ganyu asked.

“Only two were in a condition good enough to quickly repair them, but they should assist us tremendously, especially since one tinkered with them to convert them into true weapons of war.” Cloud Retainer gazed at the ocean, where the many-headed figure of Osial seemed much larger, and much closer, than they had been when Aether first saw them. “It is just in time, too, if his movements are to be believed.”

“Then we shoot from here.” Geo energy gathered at Ningguang’s fingertips as she spoke, no doubt powered by the glowing Vision at her waist. “We will attack from afar and, if possible, restore the last ballista in the meantime.”

This, being a well-thought out plan, would have no doubt worked had the Fatui hadn’t chosen to interfere within minutes of them activating the ballista.

~~~

Sharzad stumbled into pouring rain and immediately regretted her decision.

“I am going to beg Cloud Retainer for a hood next time I see her,” she grumbled. Retreating back to the shelter of the Golden House’s roof, she pulled one of her shoulder capes from her Inventory and threw it on. She willed her horns away so she could pull the hood over her head.

“What are you planning?”

Deshret and Nabu stood close to each other, untouched by the rain thanks to their non-physical forms. For a moment, Sharzad wished she was a ghost so she didn’t have to deal with the weather.

“That depends, Nabu. How did you defeat Osial the . . . I don’t even know how many times you fought him. But how did you beat him?”

Nabu shrugged. “It depended on his form, and on our surroundings. Of course, nothing beats a claymore to the head, but I do not believe that is helpful to you.”

Despite the situation, Sharzad snorted a laugh. “Not one bit. I guess it’d be best to avoid using either of your powers, right?”

“I doubt that pillock will ignore you even if you avoid your . . . older abilities.” Deshret sighed, his expression caught halfway between a disgusted grimace and discomfort bordering on fear. “You have, as you call it, a divine magnet attached to your soul. It does not matter what you do—he will sense you regardless.”

“Damnit.”

“It is quite unfortunate that a confrontation is unavoidable, especially as I would rather you avoid making a deal with him.”

“I–” for a few moments, all Sharzad could do was stare at Deshet, before sighing. “–you know what, sure. I’d be uncomfortable if my routine kidnapper suddenly gave part of his power to . . . what am I to you, Deshret? Granddaughter, daughter, heir—whatever. Point is, you have an uncomfortable history with him and I’m going to respect that. There’s other water gods I can make deals with if I really want that kind of power.”

Beaming, Nabu wandered to her husband’s side, taking his hand in hers (probably to reassure him or something). “Thank you, Sharzad.”

“It’s basic human decency, no need to thank me.” Taking a breath, she stepped out into the rain and began walking towards the harbor. “So what do we do?”

Thunder boomed above, muffled slightly by the deluge. Newly formed puddles blocked much of the path, forcing Sharzad to try to jump across them or squelch her way through the surrounding grass, which had developed the consistency of mud (or perhaps even a bog). She could have used her powers, but she already felt exhausted from the fight with Childe, even with her food, and she wanted to have some energy to deal with Osial. However that was going to happen.

Movement out of the corner of her eye betrayed Deshret—now in bird form—flying at her side. “I doubt we can ascend to the Jade Chamber at this rate. Not without one of the adepti.”

“Cloud Retainer would be willing to help. Or Xiao.”

“Yeah . . .” Sharzad drifted off as they finally caught a glimpse of the battle taking place. “I think they’re a little busy.”

The Jade Chamber had flown closer to the sea, now anchored directly above the docks of Liyue Harbor. A glittering blue platform extended from the front, forming an arena perfect for greater movement in combat. While Sharzad couldn’t see anyone on the platform, she could see the beams of light shooting towards the sea, defending the harbor from the behemoth attacking it.

Osial was, to put it nicely, massive, a watery beast composed of five heads and a body submerged in the fathoms below. Glowing patterns marked his entire body, giving the seawater an eerie, almost monstrous glow. There was a gap in the clouds open above him, shining half-daylight onto Osial. He was, quite literally, the eye of the storm.

“Okay.” She swallowed. “He’s a lot bigger than I thought he’d be.”

“That isn’t truly him, only a construct of pure water made to resemble his true form—he is weaker than he once was.”

Pure water? Could he be dissolved if she heated the water around him? Boiled the sea like she would a soup?

“Want me to kill him?” It seemed that even in his bird form, Deshret could make a face of pure disappointment. “Yeah, I agree: we’re not destroying Liyue Harbor today.” She frowned. “So, what? I go in, somehow restrain him with my powers, and . . . seal him away?”

“Exhausting him should be enough. Morax’s seals are quite powerful, as they are practically contracts with the land itself. Osial is likely projecting his consciousness into this construct and will return to his prison when he exhausts himself.”

“Cool.” Realizing something else, Sharzad frowned. “Wait, how am I even supposed to get to him to attack?”

It wasn’t like she could walk on water, nor freeze it and ice bridge across (no matter what a time-honored tradition it was). Perhaps she could summon a bank of sand under the water, or knit together a solid enough bridge made of algae . . .

“I do not like that facial expression and I refuse to allow you to do something foolish.” Had Deshret been human, his arms would no doubt be crossed. “Think again.”

Sharzad shrugged. “I mean, if I distract him so the others can successfully attack, would that be enough?”

“It could be.” Nabu tilted her head. “But keep that idea about boiling him alive—I like that use of your creativity.”

Deshret wrinkled his nose but didn’t comment on his wife’s idea. “Call one of the adepti here so they may take you to the Jade Chamber. Hopefully, this plan will work.”

~~~

In the heat of battle, surrounded by agile, deadly foes, Aether barely had the chance to wipe the sweat from his brow. Fatui soldiers appeared in droves, walking out of portals that had spawned on Ningguang’s extension platform. Even with the adeptal energies of Ganyu, Madame Ping, and Xiao, he struggled to maintain his energy as he defended one of the Guizhong Ballista alone.

Cloud Retainer had fixed the final weapon sometime after the battle had started, and now the three main defenders—him, the purple woman, and the woman with the red knots on her clothes—were split evenly across the three ballista. Millelith soldiers flanked all of the ballista, too few to truly help against the better-armed Fatui but enough to keep the enemy out of the ballista’s reach. Elemental energy-infused bullets and weapons kept distracting him with their radiance, so bright that he could picture the glow of Electro or Geo being used in a neon sign for a nightclub.

There was a harrowing moment somewhere in the mess of fighting where Aether felt Xiao’s energy levels dip and vanish, only to reappear again moments later. Given how busy he was with his opponents (a guy with a Cryo gun trying to snap his arms off via frostbite and another with Anemo-powered boxing gloves threatening to launch him into the ocean), Aether filed the disappearance as a lapse in Xiao’s power—a sign he was exhausted—and kept his attention on the fight. He still had access to Ganyu and Ping’s energies, which healed his injuries and enhanced his attacks respectively.

Xiao was an experienced warrior according to the other adepti. He’d be fine.

Whether Aether would be depended on how long the next part of this battle lasted. Osial showed no sign of tiring from his watery attacks, nor did the Guizhong Ballista seem to be effective against him. Sure, they interrupted his attacks, but they couldn’t do much damage against a being made of pure water.

“My apologies for abandoning you.” Xiao’s power flooded through Aether as he spoke. “I have brought more reinforcements.”

Reinforcements?

Music flooded his ears again, clear as day despite the interference of the rain, the soldiers, Osial, and everything else. Even the Fatui paused at the sound of it, giving Aether enough time to knock the Cryo warrior’s cannon out of his hands. He saw some of the warriors, those apparently in charge, order their comrades to retreat.

“I could say something really cool right now but I’m too tired to,” came a very familiar voice.

“Sharzad!” Paimon exclaimed from the safety of the Guizhong Ballista. “You’re back!”

Sharzad didn’t respond. When Aether turned to check on her, he discovered it was because she was busy talking to Ningguang. Maybe they were planning something new to deal with Osial?

“Another blast incoming!” One of the Millelith accompanying Aether called. “Where is that music coming from?”

“Oh, thank Rex Lapis!” the other gasped out. “I’m not hallucinating!”

Noticing him struggling, Aether darted over to slice his sword across the hooded mage’s torso. Blood splattered across the glowing blue platform and the mage vanished soon after. At the same time, a blast of water brimming with elemental energy appeared above the platform, ready to collide and send a torrent in every direction–

A golden shield intercepted it, shielding the platform and everything on it from the blow. Yet cracks formed in the construct the moment the blast made contact, and the shield disappeared.

Even Osial’s heads did a double take at the sudden appearance—Aether saw them do so out of the corner of his eye.

An unfamiliar voice echoed across the landscape, rasping as if the throat it came from had been scratched raw from sea salt. “Rex Lapis. Why do you join this struggle now?”

The last of the Fatui quickly made their escape at the sound of the sea-god’s voice, and for good reason. Beyond its rasp, it was aggressive, ebbing and flowing in strength like the waves in the ocean, a constant push-pull of loud and soft as if it was the sea itself talking. For a moment, the platform in front of the Jade Chamber stood still, its sole remaining enemy distracted.

“Rex Lapis is here?” one of the Millelith at Aether’s ballista echoed in a whisper. “Is he the one who saved us?”

And then—and then–

“Rex Lapis is dead!” Another voice. Feminine, brimming with divine power, and familiar. Sharzad walked past Aether, her strides slow but confident despite the anxious shaking of her shoulders. Her entire body—no, her nervous system— shone pink, but the eye he could see glowed blue. It clashed horribly with her outfit (including the addition of a dark brown cloak), not that it mattered in the context of battle. “The power you see is mine and mine alone.”

“Nabu Malikata,” came the hissed response. That was the sound of eternal rage, of hatred born eons before and carried into the present.

“Not her either. Nor Deshret. They, too, have died. Long ago, actually.”

The music continued to play, the rain continued to fall, and Ningguang called out an order to fire. The Guizhong Ballista fired a single attack enhanced by the three weapons working in tandem. Their collision with Osial’s body sent steam rising into the storm, and the hydra lurched back in pain.

He raised his head as if to summon another blast of Hydro, only to freeze and slowly turn all five of his heads in Sharzad’s direction. If the movement scared Sharzad, she didn’t outwardly show her fear beyond the continued trembling of her shoulders. “My beloved . . . dead? And who are you, their bastard child?”

“Just their heir, nothing more.” Sharzad put her hands on her hips, tilting her head at the god. “Does your wife know you’re still thirsting after a dead—and happily married—god? Last I checked, you have a wife of your own, Osial.”

Another attack from the ballista. This time, Osial didn’t even try to attack back, clearly engrossed in the conversation.

She’s distracting him.

“That demon is at fault, isn’t she? Forced him to give her a child–”

Voice brimming with disapproval, Sharzad cut across him. Aether could imagine her wrinkling her nose at the god. “Really? You spend years trying to force a god into marrying you and you think the deity he married was the one going against his consent?” She waited until the next attack from the ballista collided with the god. “For a water deity, your head’s full of air.”

All five of Osial’s heads hissed in tandem. Instead of speaking, he raised his heads and summoned one of his blasts of water. Sharzad raised her hand, yet another color—gold, this time—joining the mess of energy leaving her body and concentrating around her hand (the word glowstick crossed his mind and Aether had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing).

A shield of crystalline energy formed above them, once against shattering upon the water blast’s impact but once again protecting them from harm. For a second, golden horns shaped like antlers sprouted from her hood, before vanishing with the shield. Did all her power ups give her respective deity-themed flashiness? Did he miss something with her deal with Dvalin?

“That power is not yours to wield!” For an ancient god, Osial sounded rather like a wounded toddler. One of his heads had actually retreated, leaving him with four. Was he losing energy?

“Considering I made a deal for it, it absolutely is mine to wield. But I see consent is hard for you so maybe that’s why you think I’ve stolen it.”

Osial hissed again. “You truly are her spawn.”

“Why, because I know what consent is? I know it’s hard for people like you to understand the meaning of ‘no,’ but after the third time you should have understood that my predecessor didn’t want anything out of you.”

The ballista attacked again, and yet another of Osial’s heads vanished in the waves.

“The god-king Amun is dead. He is not yours, nor will he ever be. Nabu Malikata, his equal and his wife, is also gone, and despite what you think both of their powers are now mine to wield. Their kingdom is mine to rule.”

“A false queen. The people of Sumeru will not stand for this.”

Aether saw Sharzad hesitate for a moment, only to respond with: “I think you’ll find they will. Or, you would if you weren’t about to be locked up again.”

And the second the Guizhong Ballista fired, Sharzad thrust out one of her hands. Light bloomed at the center of one of Osial’s heads, and his form began to bubble. Even when the blast cleared and yet another of his heads vanished, the bubbling continued. The head shrank slightly.

“What are you—what is this power?”

Considering that he was also wondering this, Aether appreciated Osial’s question.

“Since your current form is made of water, I figured I could raise your inner temperature to boil it away. Seems I was right.”

She was boiling him alive. She was boiling him alive. He was barely aware of the storm clearing away because Sharzad was boiling a god alive. Because why not. Aether knew well enough that people could get deathly creative with their powers, but he hadn’t considered that Sharzad could potentially boil a god alive.

“Fire another blast at once!” Cloud Retainer called. “One will not see her exhaust the last of her power for this!”

With the final blast from the adepti came the disappearance of Osial, who sank into the waves and vanished. The clouds above cleared from thunderous black to a paler gray, the music stopped, and Aether breathed a sigh of relief.

Sharzad, meanwhile, turned to him, swaying on her feet. “I think I’m going to take a nap,” she said, voice back to normal. If anything, she sounded somewhere between drunk and tired, her words blending together slightly.

Cloud Retainer landed next to her. “You will do no such thing. Where is your inn, child? One shall take you there at once. If you do not eat, it will take you days to recover your energy.”

“Ooh, should I have been doing that this whole time?” Sharzad slurred.

“Amun and Nabu have failed you once again, haven’t they? One shall gather the necessary information for you. Now come, climb on one’s back, one shall take you to your inn for some rest.”

Ignoring literally everyone else, Cloud Retainer took Sharzad with her and flew down to the harbor.

There was a moment of confused silence before Ningguang spoke. She didn’t have to raise her voice in order to be audible. “I advise everyone to return to the Jade Chamber. Healers will be on site to take care of any injuries. I thank you all for your help.”

Notes:

I apologize for being a few hours later than usual: I didn't like the original ending to this sequence and wanted to change it to something that made more sense for the scene.

Sharzad was originally going to power up and fight Osial, but I didn't think it fit her current power level or development. Those parts will instead be used for the bonus chapter chronicling a few of the times Osial kidnapped Deshret (including the Deshret in wedding clothes story Ping references in this chapter). Once I actually write out the Ragbros reconciliation chapter, I'll be working on that :)

1) Shenhe doesn't appear in the original Archon Quest, but since I couldn't find a canonical reason for her to not show up, I decided she would show up to help, anyway. Keqing is the other person Aether doesn't recognize as he hasn't met her yet in this story.

2) I initially debated keeping the Guizhong Ballista away, but when I was reading through the dialogue for this quest, I noticed that a) the ballista Ningguang summons are supposedly copies and b) Cloud Retainer upgraded them anyway, so I figured she and Mountain Shaper could fix the original weaponry to have them work. Since she invented them, Cloud Retainer surely knows how to repair them, and given Zhongli was able to repair them with the proper materials, I decided the damage wasn't too great.

3) Not-so-fun fact: Deshret likes to take up his bird form when he's uncomfortable. It doesn't mean that he's been uncomfortable every time he's a bird in this story, but it is one of the reasons he prefers it. His original form was more bird-like and he also likes how it helps him hide his facial expressions.

4) There is a little reference to EPIC (the musical) at the start of the last part because I thought it'd be fun lol

5) Also fun reference: Sharzad was initially going to reference the whole "I am the reinforcements" thing from Honkai: Star Rail but given her exhaustion I decided against it. I do want her to say it eventually though :3

Next week we'll see Cloud Retainer going full mama bear on Sharzad and giving her an overdue lecture on being mortal and dealing with godly powers because, despite their wisdom, neither Deshret nor Nabu have any experience with that. We may also see some hints of Childe and Signora :3

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 15: Chapter II: Rest and Recovery

QUEST

Rest and Recovery

Go to sleep

“Do not attempt to walk. I forbid you from doing anything strenuous until you have properly rested and recuperated.”

Cloud Retainer had shifted to human form the moment she landed in the harbor. Somehow, she managed to do so in a way where Sharzad (who up until this point had been riding on the adeptus’ back) ended up being held in a bridal carry. The awkwardness of this entire endeavor was thankfully diminished by the utter lack of people in Liyue Harbor, no doubt because the Qixing ordered evacuations as soon as Osial appeared.

“It’s just a set of stairs, Auntie!” Sharzad yawned. “I can manage!”

Never mind that she’d directed the adeptus to the correct inn a minute earlier. Or that despite her protests that everything was fine, Sharzad felt as sluggish as if she’d been on one of Kaveh’s thirty-six hour designing sprees. All she wanted to do was sleep off the exhaustion and recover her power that way. Deshret and Nabu might even satisfy her curiosity about Osial by showing her their past with him, although she wasn’t about to force them to do so.

But since Cloud Retainer had a brain, she ignored Sharzad’s protests. “Nonsense. Anything risks you collapsing at a moment’s notice, and you cannot rest until you have had a warm meal and a bath.”

“A bath as well? Is that not overkill, Cloud Retainer?” To keep up with Cloud Retainer, Deshret had taken up his bird form, and Nabu had simply retreated to Sharzad’s brain.

“Hmph.” After entering the inn, Cloud Retainer took the stairs upward. “Mortal bodies are infinitely more fragile than those of born deities. One finds it difficult to believe you had mortal followers since you do not understand even the basic principles of caring for a human.”

“They had each other. Why would we poke our noses in their personal lives?”

“They poked theirs in yours as it was.”

“This one, Auntie,” Sharzad mumbled, gesturing at one of the doors lining the hall.

“Where is your key, child?”

Half drowsy already, Sharzad mindlessly plucked the iron key from her Inventory before handing it to Cloud Retainer. The human shaped adeptus didn’t even flinch at the sudden appearance of a key, instead slipping it into the lock and gracefully stepping into the room.

Nabu Malikata materialized as Cloud Retainer gently set Sharzad on the bed, fond exasperation  painting her features as she watched the adeptus inspect the room. Hands on her hips, Nabu raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say you wanted her to eat, Cloud Retainer? You will not find anything here.”

The sound that came out of Cloud Retainer’s mouth sounded like a bird chirping. “Evidently. Pray tell, why did you not seek out more luxurious lodgings?”

“I’m comfortable here, don’t need anything more,” Sharzad said, yawning again. The bed was so comfortable, and if she could just shimmy under the blankets–

A clawed hand yanked her upwards. “Not yet. Where are your sleep clothes, child? You must clean yourself and change before resting, and while you do so, one shall seek out proper sustenance. A hearty soup or some noodles should suffice.”

While her legs felt like Jell-O, Sharzad wasn’t about to piss off her recently discovered bird aunt, especially since said bird aunt was giving her a look that screamed do this or the sandal is coming out. So, she stumbled to grab a pair of loose, linen pants and a matching shirt before locking herself in the bathroom.

One glimpse at the mirror told her Cloud Retainer had been right. “Wow, I really look like shit, don’t I?”

The combination of the day’s travel plus two taxing events had clearly done a number on her. Her hair was a soaked mess tangled beyond belief with flower petals from her crown and her attacks scattered throughout. Even if her current outfit had been replaced mere hours earlier, it was already soaked from the rain and dirtied from her . . . activities. Sand seemed to be everywhere, from the folds in her shirt to inside her socks, and although she’d done well at dodging Childe, there were burn marks across the hem of her skirt from where his lightning barely missed her. Oh, and to add to the elemental chaos, all of her clothes were uncomfortably wet, which was wonderful.

“Definitely worse for wear,” Nabu agreed. Maybe in another time and place, she’d have giggled, but clearly Osial’s presence put a damper on the Goddess of Flowers’ mood.

“Is Deshret waiting outside?”

“I believe he retreated to your head.” Nabu sat at the edge of the bathtub, watching as Sharzad turned the water on and added in a few drops of lavender-scented bath oil. “He wants a break as much as you and I do, but I think it is alright to let him consider his tumultuous feelings in solitude while the two of us wait for Cloud Retainer.”

As she began peeling off her clothes and unceremoniously dumping them in a pile on the floor, Sharzad winced. “I . . . I hope he feels better. I know it wasn’t easy, having to hide in my head like that. Letting me deal with Osial in his stead.”

Nabu stayed silent until Sharzad stepped into the tub, before breathing out a sigh. “I wish we did not have to lay so much knowledge upon you at once, Sharzad. It seems every day we spend in Liyue, you learn more of our secrets than you had in the two years prior.”

“I’m sure there’s thousands more. You’re immortal, after all. Or, you were, anyway.” Dunking her head in the water, Sharzad emerged and began untangling the knots in her hair. “I’m sure you’ve lived through a lot, and that kind of thing will come out naturally as Deshret opens up a little more. We’ve made a ton of progress since leaving Sumeru and, being honest, I’m honored you both trust me enough to share these things.”

Light splashing filled the room. They didn’t speak, sitting in heavy silence as Sharzad began washing the grime off her body. She had just begun rinsing off the soap when she spoke again.

“What happened with Osial . . . you don’t have to show me, you know? Like I said before confronting him, he clearly makes Deshret uncomfortable, and I’m sure it’s not–not great for you, either. I can fill in the blanks if necessary but to be honest, I’m not that interested in forcing you two to relive past trauma.” She sighed, bowing her head. “I know too well what that feels like.”

Nabu breathed out a chuckle. “We’ll see if Amun will accept that.” Perhaps if she had a physical form, the goddess would have ruffled Sharzad’s hair, or grasped her hands. Instead, all she did was smile. “But thank you. That’s very kind.”

~~~

The difficulty with which she opened her eyes, bleary as they were with sleep, indicated that she wasn’t in a dream. Meaning she hadn’t dreamt the night before.

Strange—she’d expected to after the Osial stuff, and with the precedent of her coma in Mondstadt. Even just for a conversation about what was coming next.

The reason for this became evident rather quickly, as Sharzad was greeted with the early morning sight of Cloud Retainer pacing in front of a seated Deshret and Nabu with the air of a frazzled university professor giving a lecture on her own research. Deshret was even taking notes on a scroll.

Deshret. Taking notes.

“. . . have catastrophic impacts on the physical body if not properly addressed. Which is why mortals of all ages, and especially children, must be properly treated in the mental sense as much as the physical one. One suggests allowing for proper breaks, adequate sleep, and days for self-care in order to recuperate from the strain of true training. Of course, one does not fault you for your previous failings to adhere to this—beyond your pitiful lack of knowledge on the subject, it appears your initial training schedule has been abandoned in favor of helping Morax with his own tasks. Tch, he should know better than to force mortals like that.”

Cloud Retainer said all of this quite fast, the pauses for breath clearly there for emphasis rather than for any natural reasons. After all, being immortal, she probably didn’t need to breathe in order to survive.

Deshret caught wind of Sharzad waking first. The scroll and quill vanished into gold particles as he stood, offering her a nod. “Good morning.”

“Yeah. No dream stuff last night?”

The Sand King shook his head. “It was Cloud Retainer’s request, and I certainly saw no reason to deny it. We were all in need of repose after yesterday’s events. I was no exception.”

The way he said it brought images of Nabu comforting him to mind. Perhaps they’d both needed a chance to be alone and break down without Sharzad being there to watch. They used to do it before, Deshret had said, only here there wasn’t a palace. The only refuge they could take was when Sharzad was asleep, or by retreating into her head.

Given their present company, all Sharzad said was, “That’s fair,” before bringing her arms up to stretch her limbs. Humming in contentment, she pushed off the covers. “Woof, I’m feeling way better than I usually do after that kind of activity.” Well, besides her legs feeling unnecessarily sore from all her running around and a few small wounds that would probably heal naturally. “Thanks, auntie.”

The human-shaped adeptus nodded slowly at her, eyes beady and unblinking in the half-light. “You are welcome, although one is not yet finished aiding you. It would be best to report to Bubu Pharmacy later today to ensure that your body is in good health and is sufficiently recuperating. Baizhu, its main healer, is supposedly aided by the adeptus once known as Herblord.” Cloud Retainer leaned down (rather menacingly) to stare into Sharzad’s eyes. “It is one’s understanding that some humans are terrified of encountering snakes. Do they frighten you, child? That is the current form of Herblord, after all, but one does not wish to render you uncomfortable when one can seek medical care elsewhere.”

Sharzad wanted to retort that Sumeru was quite possibly the snake capital of Teyvat, but decided to be much more polite given the circumstances. Despite her physical wellbeing, she still felt mentally exhausted after the past few days and, frankly, Cloud Retainer deserved deference after saving her from another three-plus day coma.

“I’m fine with snakes,” she said finally. “The things I dislike tend to have too many legs rather than none at all.”

Cloud Retainer nodded, stroking her chin as if she was already concocting a new invention to create a ten metre ring devoid of spiders (and other assorted bugs with over six legs) around Sharzad. “Perfect. Well, one shall leave you to prepare for the day while one fetches you breakfast. Do take care.”

And she was off, leaving Sharzad alone with her ghosts for the first time since her run towards Osial.

“Soooo,” she said as she stood. “Did you have a nice rest?”

Nabu took Sharzad’s place on the bed. “It was a much needed chance for us to discuss our . . . current feelings. I hope you didn’t mind the lack of dreams too much.”

“No big deal. Like I said–” she dragged a pair of red pants and a simple white shirt from her pile of clothes, hoping that the comforting colors might remind her of home. She wasn’t due back for another few days or so, which was dreadfully convenient for everything except her own feelings. It was one of those days where all she wanted to do was curl up at Alhaitham’s side and listen to him read something, even if it was the driest academic thesis in existence. But going back now would concern her fathers more, and so she was simply going to teleport over to drop off another note before returning to Liyue. “–with all this reminiscing stuff going on, you guys deserve a break for your own health. I don’t mind. Nor do I mind you keeping the Osial stuff vague. I don’t need to know the details of the past, especially when it’s the kind of thing that traumatized you, Deshret.”

“I am not traumatized.” Deshret sighed. “But I will admit that it greatly affected me. I am not one easily taken advantage of or spirited away, yet Osial managed both. Several times.”

Sharzad’s eyes widened. “He didn’t–” she shut her mouth before the rest of the sentence could spill out. “–nevermind. It’s not right to ask that kind of thing.”

“He did not take advantage of me in a sexual manner, if that is what you were asking. But there are other ways one can be taken advantage of.”

“Ah. Okay.” After pulling her shirt over her head, Sharzad turned back to Deshret. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I do not intend to unnecessarily burden you with the tragedies of my past.”

Nabu nodded her agreement. “It would serve no purpose to show the events that were out of our control, or the events with no connections to rulership. Why should we show the early days of Amun’s conquest or either of our deaths when delving into our memories was always about learning how to rule the desert?”

“Please do not ever show me your deaths.” After one of her fingers met a snag in her hair, Sharzad picked up her hairbrush and began working it through the tangles and knots that formed while she was asleep. “Especially Deshret’s.”

“Again, I do not intend to unnecessarily burden you with the tragedies of my past.”

“Oookay.” Searching for a way to change the subject, Sharzad settled on how she woke up. “What was Cloud Retainer telling you, by the way?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Deshret sighed with the weight of a thousand years’ worth of exasperation. “She has decided that Nabu and I are completely helpless when it comes to caring for humans.” He sighed again. “We are filling in the gaps. We know enough.”

“She clearly doesn’t agree.”

“Cloud Retainer holds herself to very high standards and prides herself on her ability to raise well-behaved, healthy children.” Nabu huffed a laugh. “She may be a bird, but she is stubborn as a mule.”

The door to the room burst open and in walked Cloud Retainer, holding a steaming bowl of food and frowning at Nabu and Deshret. “And one is quite certain of your incompetence. Look at her! A walking example of how stress can harm mortals!”

“I’m fine.”

“You are not.” Cloud Retainer held the bowl of food to Sharzad. “Eat. We shall visit Bubu Pharmacy when you have finished.”

~~~

Everything felt comfortably warm and cozy, in a way that reminded him of coming home after a day-long hunting trip in the snow-filled wilderness. As sensation returned to his limbs, Ajax couldn’t help but let a little groan of contentment escape his mouth, a little sign that he was still alive after sleeping off his exhaustion and warming up again.

Wait. That wasn’t right.

No.

The fight. The girl.

The Gnosis.

Zhongli.

The betrayal.

The betrayal.

Something near him moved, the near-imperceptible sound of someone shifting in their chair. Childe reared upwards only to be met by pain in possibly every single one of his bones. He flinched back, slamming down on whatever he was lying down on.

He blinked his eyes open, only to find everything blurred, including the golden-brown lamplight. The thing in the room with him shifted again, and then he found a shadow looming over him.

Golden eyes wide with concern gazed down at him as a gloved hand gently touched his shoulder.

“You’re awake,” Zhongli said, sounding more relieved than he should.

Why was he here? Where was here? Hadn’t this whole thing been an act to get close to Childe? Was this still an act? Did he do something to Childe’s memory that didn’t work? Was he trying to keep Childe on his side? Was that it?

He did his best to muster a glare. “Where am I?”

“Bubu Pharmacy. I brought you here after you fainted in the Golden House. You were–” Zhongli cleared his throat; Childe immediately regretted thinking that, even exhausted, Zhongli still looked hot. He betrayed you. Stop it, brain. “–well, rather incapacitated, and I did not wish to endanger you any more. My healing capabilities are . . . painfully limited, and your Abyssal transformation clearly took its toll on your body.”

“I’m fine. It’s normal.”

It wasn’t normal. In fact, Childe could tell from the ache in his bones and the way breathing felt like nails were embedded in his lungs that he’d strained himself so badly that it would take weeks to recover. Maybe even months.

“That kind of corrosion—Childe, it will cause irreparable–”

“Why are you so concerned?” Childe snapped. “It’s not like you care.”

Zhongli frowned at him. Why did he look so adorable? “But I do care,” he insisted, voice surprisingly small and distinctly perplexed. “Very much so.”

“Do you? Because you seemed content to hide your identity from me. Is that all you wanted? To play with an unsuspecting mortal? One you knew was coming to steal your Gnosis? Are you happy now?”

“Childe, we can talk after you have recovered. You are understandably angry, but the stress on your body–”

“Look into my eyes and tell me I care about my health right now.”

Zhongli fell silent, slowly drawing his hand away from Childe.

“My goddess sent me here for an already complete mission. You led me on and pretended that you didn’t know my true identity. You almost let me unleash an ancient monster to destroy your city. And all for a stupid trinket you’d already promised her.”

“You earned my Gnosis months ago.” A gloved hand came up to rest on Zhongli’s heart. “I will even give it to you now, if you wish.”

It can’t be that easy. Nothing is that easy. Gritting his teeth, Childe forced himself to sit up, ignoring the pain in his bones out of pure spite. He wasn’t going to be weak. Not now. Not in front of the man who broke his heart.

“I earned nothing. This entire thing was for nothing.”

Why did you steal my heart if it was all for nothing? A faint voice in the back of his head asked.

Zhongli tilted his head. “I do not think so. You enjoyed your time in Liyue, did you not? And your time with me?” The simple way he asked that second question almost hurt more than when Zhongli appeared at the battle the day before. Your time with me. Like it was enjoyable, without pretense, without secret plans and disguised divinity marring their dinners, their walks, their shopping trips.

“I came here for a fight, xiangsheng. A fight with you. And instead you faked your death and almost let me destroy Liyue Harbor—the city you built.” His eyesight blurred with tears, which Childe justified by blaming his pain rather than his melancholy. “You lied to my face, told me stories about yourself while knowing why I came. Why did you share your identity with a foreign princess before you told me? Didn’t you trust me?”

“The terms of my contract with the Tsaritsa forbade me from directly telling anyone my identity.” With his upturned brows and hands hanging loosely at his sides, Zhongli had the pained, pathetic look of a kicked puppy. Hard to believe that this was the Geo Archon. “That includes Sharzad.”

“But she–”

“Her gods—that is, the source of her powers, her predecessors as rulers of Sumeru’s desert—are old friends of mine, ones I lost thousands of years ago.” He chuckled. “I suppose the memory of our spars gave Amun all he required to track me, though he was certainly aided by Sharzad’s . . . condition.”

“Condition?” She didn’t look sick. Well, maybe a little sick in the head but Childe couldn’t exactly speak about sanity with his own fraying.

“It is not my place to share the details. To put it simply, her very existence compels deities to make deals with her. Perhaps in another world, another time, she may have earned a Vision from Celestia, but I suspect that the stars themselves do not reflect her fate, as her passion and ambition would have surely made her a candidate for a Vision by now.”

Childe frowned, feeling on the verge of a headache from the onslaught of information. He certainly didn’t know anything about the stars or Constellations beyond the legends and fairy tales he heard as a child. That kind of research was more aligned with some of the other Harbingers. All Childe really cared about was that he had a Vision and a Constellation that reflected the narwhal he’d once awakened and subsequently taken inspiration from. Everything else was way past his pay grade.

“So it’s true? The gods choose who gets a Vision?”

“I–” Zhongli opened and closed his mouth, before falling to his knees. Reaching forward, he clasped Childe’s hand in his, his voice softening to something resembling a delicate whisper. “–I am afraid I am unable to tell you that. I am sorry.”

“Another contract?”

Zhongli only offered a nod. They sat in silence for a few moments. It was comfortable enough that Childe could almost pretend that nothing went wrong, that Zhongli was just a handsome funeral parlor consultant and not an ancient god.

He narrowed his eyes at Zhongli. “I’m still mad at you.”

A heavy sigh. “It may pain me, but your anger is justified. Perhaps I should have foreseen this, but alas.” Golden eyes stared up at Childe, a deep sadness stirring within.

Taking Childe’s hand, Zhongli brought it to his chest and then, without warning, plunged them into his body, towards something lodged in his sternum. Golden light burst from Zhongli’s chest as the god carefully bent Childe’s fingers around something solid, and then pulled both their hands from his body.

“The contract with the Tsaritsa is complete. I shall leave you to your thoughts, Childe, but know that I no longer have to conceal my identity from you. I swear that I will wait for you as long as I am alive and, when you are ready, you may seek me out. I will answer all of your questions.” Slowly, reverently, Zhongli raised Childe’s hand to his mouth and placed a single kiss on the back of it. “You are a dear, dear friend to me, and while all I wish for you is your security and happiness, it is ultimately your decision for what comes next between us. I am a dragon, but I do not wish to shackle the people I care deeply about to my hoard.”

Zhongli dropped his hands and stood, pausing only to softly utter, “Farewell, Childe,” before leaving the Harbinger alone with his thoughts.

Face burning with a warmth hot enough to rival the sun, Childe slowly opened his still-closed palm, revealing the thing Zhongli pulled from his chest.

Energy radiated from orange-gold crystals welded together with a strange, unfamiliar metal. The semi-familiar shape of a chess piece—a rook—stared up at him from within his palm, matching the description Childe had been given months earlier.

The Gnosis. Zhongli gave him his Gnosis. Mission accomplished.

But was it worth it? That same, tiny voice in the back of his head asked. In the silence of the pharmacy, devoid of people, of movement, of that mysterious music from the day before, it sounded louder than ever. Was the betrayal worth it?

“I will not abandon him so easily, Amun. Especially if there is a chance that he feels the same as I do.”

“You are a dear, dear friend to me, and while all I wish for you is your security and happiness, it is ultimately your decision for what comes next between us.”

His hand burned where Zhongli had kissed it moments earlier. Childe buried his face in his hands, trying to absorb his tears before they fell.

“Why do you make it so hard for me to hate you?”

Notes:

I'm on time this week, hooray! I guess I was really feeling the angst lol

I don't have any notes this week since the chapter was pretty bare in terms of easter eggs/lore I can comment on. BUT I will say that after the 5.7 version trailer, I'm starting to theorize stuff about Teyvat that lets me go full crossover with HSR, so who knows, I might eventually write a crossover fic featuring Ratio as Sharzad's sibling (I love that theory/AU of him being Haikaveh's son lol)

As for the rest, I'm struggling with block on the Ragbros reconciliation fic but I'm hoping to stop procrastinating it this coming week, so no promises, but that might show up soon :)

Next week, a meeting with Baizhu and Signora finally shows her face again!

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 16: Chapter II: Doctor's Visit

QUEST

Doctor’s Visit

Meet with Baizhu

Okay . . . so, Baizhu looked terrible. And not in a good way. He looked unhealthy.

Well, maybe it was the whole taking on other peoples’ ailments thing but this man looked old and horrendously sleep deprived. His attire was what she’d expected, of course—shades of purple and turquoise, a crop top (for some reason), a sash around his waist with Dendro Vision attached—but this man’s face and hair had so much character that this was the first time Sharzad really appreciated getting to see Genshin’s playable characters in real life.

The bags under his serpentine eyes were one thing, dark hollows with skin so thin that she could easily make out the veins under them. His posture was straight, yes, but his limbs were thin enough that she could probably see every bone of his wrists if he took off the accessories on both sides. What little Sharzad could see of his neck showed peeling skin, possibly textured like a reptile’s scales, and while Baizhu’s voice certainly sounded normal, every breath he took shook with effort and rattle a little towards the end, as if his lungs were lined with sandpaper.

Given she didn’t see a chair behind the counter of the pharmacy, this poor man’s feet must have been aching by now. The smell of herbs and brewing medication filling the air from well-stocked shelves couldn’t possibly help him feel better, could it? Sharzad was getting a headache again, which wasn’t helped by how Qiqi was nowhere to be seen.

Get this man a spa day and a chest x-ray. And a babysitter.

“What a surprise,” Baizhu said after Cloud Retainer introduced them and explained why they’d come. She used the alias of Xianyun, which Sharzad filed away for later. “I thought all the combatants from yesterday would have visited a healer by now.”

“This is purely a final check up.” Cloud Retainer sniffed haughtily. “One understands the necessity of a qualified physician in cases like these.”

“Will you ever cease making jabs?” came the grumbled retort from Deshret.

The white snake draped around Baizhu’s neck and shoulders raised her head to hiss. “That voice . . . who ssssspeaksssswhile unssssseen? Sssssshow yoursssself!”

Sharzad blinked. “You can’t see them?”

But she was an adeptus. Shouldn’t Changsheng remember . . . was she like Xiao? Had she never met Deshret and Nabu? Except, she was sure Deshret and Nabu mentioned meeting Changsheng (or, Herblord) at least once.

Deshret proved her concerns nearly immediately. “Have you lost your memories, Herblord?” he asked, stepping closer to the counter. “Have you lost your sight?”

The white snake’s tail lashed. “I can hear you jussssssst fine!” she snapped.

Baizhu cleared his throat (Sharzad thought it was an accident until he spoke). “Changsheng, if I may– ahem. Are you speaking to the person standing a foot away from me, through my counter?”

“Oh, you can see them, Doctor Baizhu?” Sharzad frowned. “That’s weird.”

Maybe it was the eyes? Was that enough? Maybe it was, although Sharzad wasn’t equipped to come up with a full conclusion. That was the kind of scenario best left to the Amurta medical groups and Spantamad researchers curious about adeptal energies.

“You switched eyes with him.” Deshret crossed his arms. “And you’ve lost your memories. What kind of erosion . . .”

“Who are you?” Changsheng’s head swayed hypnotically from side to side as she peered at Sharzad. “Tell me, sssstrange child. Who are thesssse people who claim to know me?”

Taken aback by the sudden request, Sharzad blinked a few times. “Oh, um. Right. Deshret would be the male voice you’re hearing. He’s also known as Amun and is the eternal King of the Great Red Sand. The one you haven’t heard yet is Nabu Malikata, the Goddess of Flowers and Deshret’s wife.” She glanced at Baizhu. “Could we get the check-up done now, Doctor Baizhu? I have other business to attend to.”

Cloud Retainer stepped forward so Sharzad could see her imperiously raise an eyebrow. “And what would that be, child?”

“Resting, of course,” she responded with a grin, “And a few long-overdue conversations to have and messages to send, Auntie.”

She had to locate and arrange meetings with a number of people including Ningguang and Childe, not to mention sending a message to her fathers. The hastily scribbled note was already in her pocket and all she had to do was ditch Cloud Retainer for a few minutes, long enough to teleport to Sumeru to drop the note off.

The adeptus’ brow lowered a fraction of an inch as she huffed. “Very well. One shall not stop you from attending to low-strain business, but one shall enlist that boy–” no doubt Aether. “–as well as Amun and Nabu to ensure you receive proper nutrition and rest. Afterwards, one has work to do regarding one’s other charges.”

“Share your knowledge with us and we’ll take care of the rest,” Nabu promised. “Go take care of your children after we finish here.”

Cloud Retainer held Nabu’s gaze for a moment, before relenting with a short nod of her head. “Very well. Proceed, Doctor Baizhu.”

The doctor cocked his head slightly at Cloud Retainer, before coughing once into his elbow (he has good hygiene, thank the gods, Sharzad thought). “Follow me. I have a room in the back I use for the simpler check-ups.” When Cloud Retainer made a move to follow, he tutted. “Ah, not you. She goes alone or not at all.”

The adeptus glared at him in response but didn’t step forward, instead turning with her arms crossed.

“My . . . ghosts, you could say, are coming no matter what,” Sharzad told Baizhu as they left the main room. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t know what I could do to deter them, if they are truly gods as you say. How did a young lady such as yourself come across them?”

“Non-consensual ritual sacrifice.”

Deshret groaned. “Sharzad, be serious.”

She shrugged as she entered the room Baizhu opened. The curtain-shielded window was cracked open to let in some fresh air, but all the light came from a paper lantern hanging from the ceiling. A bench took up most of the available space, although a small washbasin and cloth gave Baizhu the chance to clean off his hands. Again with the good hygiene. Sharzad would never stop being impressed considering the comparative lack of scientific advancement between Teyvat and Earth (although granted, Earth didn’t have magic so that was no doubt a reason for the increased technological advancements).

“I think it’s a good thing I can joke about my death, Deshret,” she commented as she sat on the bench. “Means I’m recovering.”

“Oh? You’ve died before?” Though he sounded intrigued, Baizhu only huffed a laugh as he took her pulse with two fingers. “Don’t let Hu Tao of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor hear about that. She may take up a knife herself to return you to the land of the dead.”

“It was only a few seconds, I hardly think that counts.”

“Hmm. Tell me, do you even feel unwell, or is that adeptus simply overreacting?”

Sharzad decided to do the smart thing and avoid asking how Baizhu knew Cloud Retainer was an adeptus. Being honest, the adeptus in question was about as subtle as a tropical bird when it came to her identity, so it was probably a no brainer for Baizhu to figure out.

“Muscle pain, I feel kind of tired . . . nothing more to be honest.” Sharzad shrugged again. “I mean, it’s normal after a long day of physical training, and I definitely did a lot of physical stuff yesterday.”

Baizhu hummed again. “And no head wounds? No injuries above the shoulders?”

“None I can remember. I only got hit a few times—most of my injuries are bruises from falling. Everything else is just, well, exhaustion.”

“Your godsssss gave you power,” Changsheng hissed. “Did you overusssse it?”

“Less than usual, to be honest. I think I’m–”

A loud (albeit slightly muffled) crashing noise followed by a single yell interrupted her. Startled, Sharzad nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden noise.

Deshret immediately floated through the wall, returning seconds later. “It’s the Fatui woman from Mondstadt.”

NEW QUEST

Signora’s Arrival

Prevent Signora from attacking Childe

Oh good, Childe was here too.

“Thank you Deshret. This checkup has been wonderful, I’ll pay you later if you need it since Liyue definitely doesn’t have free healthcare.” Pushing past Baizhu, Sharzad called over her shoulder, “I’ll try not to destroy anything!” before bolting down the hall.

Outside, Cloud Retainer stood at the edge of what appeared to be a rather large group of Fatui soldiers. They had arranged themselves in two lines, facing each other as a certain blonde Harbinger climbed the stairs, head held high.

The loss of her arm hadn’t really annoyed her from the look of it, as the lost limb had been replaced with one made of glowing flame. Her clothes had been rearranged to suit this, her cape arranged in a Sumerian shoulder-cape style to prevent anything from burning, as was her hair. Instead of hanging in loose, styled curls, her blonde locks were pinned up in an elegant bun, her crown mutated to wrap around it rather than sit at the front of her hair.

And on the other side of this confrontation? Childe, and an unconscious man Sharzad recognized as Gui—Baizhu’s assistant and the guy who usually ran the medicine-making side of things at Bubu Pharmacy.

“What are you doing here?” Childe spat at his coworker (and wasn’t that a hilarious connection between those two?).

“Searching for what’s owed, of course. Her Majesty wants the Gnosis—where have you taken it?”

Despite, or perhaps in spite of, La Signora’s imperious stare, Childe laughed in her face. “I don’t have it. Wasn’t in the Golden House as planned.”

“Then am I to report that you have failed? Her Majesty will be displeased.”

Sharzad bit the inside of her cheek. What would happen in that case? Childe hadn’t failed yet, had he? If Zhongli hadn’t reported to Northland Bank then he must have planned some sort of transfer. Maybe this time he was giving the Gnosis directly to the Tsaritsa? Or maybe he planned on giving it to Childe at a later date? Perhaps even while they were on a date?

“I know that look,” Deshret said.

“Relax, Amun. I’m sure she has a plan.”

“Oh? Considering I tracked down that horned demon of yours. And guess what? She only took issue with your methods, and that little predicament of yours? An accident.”

The sound that came out of La Signora’s mouth was more akin to a growl than anything human. “You are lucky we are in public you glorified rat-”

Deshret saw the look on Sharzad’s face, sighed, and then nodded at her. “Do what you must. I doubt you will sit around and allow that Fatui boy to be bullied by his colleague, especially with this new quest.”

“Thank you.” Sharzad playfully curtsied at him before walking forward, forming a crown of red and white poppies in her hair.

Signora was still talking. “-on the floor screaming from a thousand burns by-”

“Hey, fun fact, Signora, he’s right.” Keeping her head high, Sharzad strode in as elegantly as she could, walking forward until she stood just past Childe. Don’t fall over don’t fall over don’t fall over. “I didn’t mean to rip off your arm. It just happened.”

Wide grey eyes were the first sign that the Harbinger had seen her, before another snarl-like noise escaped the elegant woman’s mouth. “You.”

“Me. Yes. I have to say, I’m loving the new look. The flaming arm really screams I’m mentally unstable.” She held a hand out. “In a good way, of course. From what I see and hear, none of the Harbingers is sane.”

“I’m perfectly fine!” Childe exclaimed.

“Appearance wise? Yes. Sanity wise?” Fighting back a laugh, Sharzad turned to frown at him. The effect was doubtless diminished by the upward twitching of her lips. “Hard no. As for you-” she turned to stare at La Signora. “-I’d recommend taking your troops and leaving now. Like Tartaglia told you, it’s your methods I disagree with, and bringing a full squadron here?” she eyed the troops, noticing at least three of the soldiers flinching when met with her gaze. “Definitely beyond what I’d call reasonable.”

Signora glared at her. “Foolish child. You would dare threaten a Fatui Harbinger?”

Sharzad tilted her head, taking a few more steps forward so she stood within two metres from the blonde Harbinger. “You wouldn’t be the first one I’ve threatened, and certainly not the last if you guys keep showing up everywhere. Just because the limb-ripping was an accident once doesn’t mean it won’t be the next time, and while I’m sure a few of your coworkers might bother fixing you with a robotic arm or leg, I’m sure they won’t like doing so.” She leaned forward slightly, keeping her expression serious rather than allowing it to morph into a small smile (which would be more confident but also one hundred percent more unhinged). “So scram, lady, or else Doctor Baizhu will have a new patient needing emergency care after receiving an impromptu amputation.”

The only interruption to the dead silence? Nabu, who from the end of the room, called out, clearly excited after Sharzad’s statement, “Good one!”

~~~

Signora miraculously withdrew her troops, although Childe didn’t believe it was all that miraculous given the hints of fear in her eyes.

“So scram, lady, or else Doctor Baizhu will have a new patient needing emergency care after receiving an impromptu amputation.”

Yeesh. And he thought Scaramouche was unhinged. Maybe the effect was just enhanced because it was a kid saying it. You know, a kid just slightly older than Tonia. It was disconcerting, really. Childe wondered if this was how the other Harbingers and his former superiors felt about him when he first joined.

Besides the one-liners, of course. Childe hadn’t been the type to talk while fighting for the first few years, still reeling from the fight or die mentality he had from his trip to the Abyss. Skirk drilled it into him especially hard, since unlike her, his limbs weren’t imbued with Abyssal energy and thus couldn’t recover if he damaged them or lost them.

Still, despite having been objectively terrifying, Sharzad had her head bowed as the tall, dark-haired woman who’d accompanied her furiously lectured her about her life choices. Hmm. Interesting.

“. . . should lock you in one’s abode for your foolishness, child. You evidently have no intention of taking care of yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” The authority once present in Sharzad’s voice had been replaced with the tell-tale notes of shame and embarrassment at the scolding. “But I wasn’t about to stay to the side and watch! Signora is dangerous, and I didn’t want Childe–”

“You should not be associating with a Harbinger! Let alone the one you fought yesterday!”

“It was a friendly duel.”

“One you would have lost had–” at this, the woman paused, before lowering her voice and saying something Childe didn’t hear. Did she know Zhongli’s true identity? Was she an adeptus, maybe?

Thinking quickly (and honestly not wanting the guilt of causing this strange woman to ground Sharzad for eternity), Childe walked forward.

“Don’t worry, miss. Sharzad was a worthy opponent, and I was well-matched.” Childe reached over and gave the girl a friendly (but firm) pat on the shoulder. “Glad to see you on your feet, comrade.”

“Comrade?” she repeated in a strange accent that mimicked native Snezhnayans speaking Teyvan quite well. Childe didn’t think he had that strong of an accent when he spoke, but maybe he was wrong about that.

“You’re definitely not my enemy after all that, are you?” He winked. “Although I wouldn’t say no to another spar.”

The strange woman whipped her head to glare at him. “You will do no such thing with her.” Then, she paused, before wrinkling her nose.

“He knows, by the way,” Sharzad said. “So you’re more than allowed to comment on . . . Zhongli’s taste.”

“Hmph, one shall not stoop so low.” The woman sighed, bringing a hand up to massage her temple. “But in that case, one shall . . . trust his judgment, however flawed it may be. One shall send your friend to fetch you. Take care, and visit one’s abode soon. One shall return within the week to ensure you have rested well.”

Sharzad seemed completely unfazed at the sudden change of subject, though Childe blinked several times to make sure he hadn't blacked out for a few moments and missed some important sentences. Maybe this lady could also interact with Sharzad’s invisible gods (Zhongli’s old friends, Childe reminded himself).

“Of course. Thank you, Auntie.”

The woman walked off, disappearing beyond the walls of the pharmacy.

Childe narrowed his eyes at Sharzad. “Was that . . . ?”

“An adeptus? Absolutely. Did you send troops up to hinder the progress against Osial, by the way, or was that all Signora? I know you were unconscious, but I don’t trust you enough to think you didn’t plan in advance.”

The thought of him trying to put civilians in danger was laughable. Why would Childe want Osial to win and destroy Liyue? The point of that plan had always been drawing out Rex Lapis, not putting Liyue Harbor in any real danger. Him sending troops to sabotage the defenders? Hilarious.

Laughter bubbled out of him before he could stop it, though it faded slightly at the ache in his ribs. Right, he’d forgotten about that after taking the potent painkillers Herbalist Gui handed him. It seemed some movements would still hurt, no matter what.

“No, they weren’t mine. I only heard about them from Zhongli, and–”

Sharzad’s eyes widened. There was a flash of glee across her face before it returned to its neutral expression. “Wait, he stayed until you woke up?”

Childe tried not to think too hard about Zhongli kneeling at his feet or kissing his hand or promising that he’d wait as long as it–

Too late. He was blushing, and the look on Sharzad’s face told him she knew something. Somehow, she knew something. Something Childe didn’t. “Ooooh. He did.”

“Don’t–”

“Calm down.” Sharzad held her hands up. “I’m not about to tease you for your love affairs or whatever. He’s your sugar baby.”

“I– what?!” Childe blinked. “You know what that is?”

Gods, he hoped not. Did that mean Tonia would know, or his younger siblings? Maybe he shouldn’t have been so forthcoming about Zhongli in his letters (minus the romantic feelings, of course). His siblings were smart, if they figured it out . . . well, the younger three would tease him relentlessly the next time he went home and the older three—well, Yelena and Leonid might join in the teasing if they could get over their fear of him, but Nestor would lecture him about fiscal responsibility.

“I’m sixteen, not three.” The smirk he received would have sent a normal man running for the hills had the amusement not been obvious in Sharzad’s golden gaze. “And you didn’t deny it.”

“We’re not romantically involved.” Though I want to be. Wanted. Wait. No. He ran a hand through his hair to distract from his blushing face. “And what we talked about isn’t your business.”

“And the Gnosis?” Sharzad tilted her head. “Deshret says it’s not like him to avoid fulfilling a contract for so long.”

Childe tapped the side of his nose. “That’s the secret. He did fulfill it.” He sighed. The Gnosis hidden away in his pocket felt heavier than it had since Zhongli gave it to him. “I don’t know why he pretended to care so much, though.”

Sharzad stared at him for a moment before snorting what might have been a laugh.

“What?” Childe asked.

“Deshret says that you’d be a fool not to notice that Zhongli’s been madly in love with you,” she said, completely ignoring the fact that talking to unseen ghosts wasn’t normal. “He’s only seen him like this a few times, and the last definitive time, well . . . that particular goddess is long gone now.”

It took Childe a moment to process this. “I–wha— madly in love?!”

Sharzad looked disappointed. “Oh, you really are hopeless.” Making a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, she crossed her arms. “Go talk to him, you moron.”

“I did, and then he left!”

Because he wanted to give me space, but still–

“Did he say why?”

“Yes, but–”

Sharzad clapped her hands. “Then go talk to him. Jesus, why are you adults always so constipated about this stuff? First my dads, then the Ragnvindrs, now you two . . . ugh. I am this close–” light flickered in her eyes, one gold, the other a piercing blue. “–just go talk to him, and if you bring me proof, I’ll fight you again, and you can teach me some stuff.”

Childe considered it. The possibility of a rematch was too tempting to ignore, but he wasn’t really ready to talk to Zhongli again . . . but a rematch. And maybe a chance to get her fully on his side . . . hmmm.

“Fine.” He held out a hand and interlocked his pinky with hers. “But we’re sealing this the Snezhnayan way.”

“A pinky promise?”

“You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life,” Childe recited. “You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice. The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again.”

“Ooooh, a terrifying pinky promise.” Sharzad nodded. “Alright. Come find me when you’re ready.”

~~~

Nabu and Deshret sat on the floor together, making notes on a progressively longer and larger piece of paper, which was covered in ever-increasing amounts of diagrams and handwritten text. Meanwhile, Sharzad sat on her bed, carefully maneuvering her chopsticks so she could pick up and eat her noodles.

“We can return to the Dwelling in the Clouds some time to see if we can jumpstart her connection to water. But in the meantime, perhaps we can stay near the harbor and work on one of the beaches. Perhaps Morax would be willing to help with the training by providing an opponent.”

Deshret shook his head. “She will work on her own for the meantime. I want to improve her speed and agility, especially while you recover from this mess. We will also focus more on lessons about diplomacy and use practical lessons when she inevitably meets with the Tianquan.”

Sharzad looked up from her bowl of noodles, purchased at a street foot stand and taken to her room to eat. “What?”

“Do not tell me you weren’t expecting this.”

Nabu was gentler than her husband. “A woman as shrewd as Ningguang will want to establish diplomatic connections early, particularly given the wealth of our kingdom. Wealth that will be yours to distribute one day.”

Struggling as she was with her noodles, Sharzad frowned into her bowl as she spoke. “Any wealth will be redistributed to my people, not used to enrich other nations.”

Someone knocked at her door, and then came the sound of Paimon’s voice.

“Hello? Sharzad?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Gimme a sec–” she haphazardly set her bowl of food on the nightstand before wandering to the door. Opening it revealed Paimon and Aether standing (well, floating for the first, but whatever) on the other side. “Hi guys.”

Aether frowned at her, but strode in anyway. “We need to talk.”

Sharzad slowly shut the door, locking it for good measure. “Why so serious?” Cloud Retainer couldn’t have possibly lectured him that badly, right? Or was this about the Gnosis thing? Things had to align for the whole bringing down Celestia thing, especially with everything required to cleanse the space outside the false sky.

Her friend only paused for a moment, taking a breath before saying. “I figured you out.”

She blinked at him, heart nearly stopping in her chest. “What?”

Did he figure out the reincarnation stuff? No way, she kept that secret pretty well (at least, she thought she did, right?). Maybe it was something else? Or maybe she’d slipped in a reference to something and he’d been to that world before? Copyright meant Genshin could never outwardly reference somethings but this wasn’t a game dictated by Earth’s laws, this was real life (or, she hoped it was, anyway).

“The music, the things you pull out of nowhere, how you have so many clothes but your bag’s so small. How you knew where Childe was going to hit you before he did yesterday.” Aether turned to ensure he made eye contact with her. “It’s all a game to you.”

Nabu raised her head from the paper. “He figured it out. Impressive.”

“Dangerous. You need to be subtler.”

Sharzad ignored both of them. She needed clarification. “What is?”

“You live like you’re in a game. The plans, the way you know exactly where to go—it’s never just your gods, is it? And the music, it means more than just strange magic—it’s cutscenes.”

“I–” Sharzad swallowed, her pulse quickening with a sudden surge of anxiety.

Do I tell him? Leave him with one of her biggest secrets, one that couldn’t be justified by the laws of Teyvat (not that she really fit within the laws of Teyvat, but since Celestia and the Heavenly Principles hadn’t awakened yet, she was considering all of this a good sign).

“We’ll keep whatever it is a secret!” Paimon said, speaking for the first time since she’d knocked on the door. “Paimon promises.”

“We all have our own secrets,” Aether said instead. “I have mine too, and you know that. I’m not asking for much, just confirmation.” He held a hand out, gesturing towards her. “You’re usually honest if people ask pointed questions.”

“Unless it’s incredibly personal,” Sharzad retorted, voice shaking slightly. “And this—it’s bordering on my deepest secrets.”

“I don’t need to know everything. I don’t even need to know how.” Even if you want to, Sharzad finished in her head. “I just need to know if. Because if you’re being guided by some type of quest mechanic, or if this is a normal thing for the people of this world–”

Sharzad held up a hand; Aether, wisely, shut his mouth. “It’s not normal, I’ll tell you that.” Thinking fast, she exhaled a sigh. “I will give you a select few pieces of information and that’s it, okay? The specifics of this whole . . . ability are things I’m unwilling to talk about, and the only people that know that kind of information are my family.”

Frowning, Aether seemingly considered this for a moment. Then, he nodded. “That’s okay. But can I ask, before we start—does this game mechanic let you teleport?”

Wait, he could teleport? Sharzad thought that was just a game mechanic and so the real Aether couldn’t do that. But if he could.

Blinking rapidly, realization dawned on her. “Wait. Can you?”

Aether nodded, and then both, at the exact same moment exclaimed: “Son of a bitch!”

They could have been teleporting around the world this whole time.

Notes:

A fun chapter this week, and the return of my end of chapter notes, hooray!

1) I wanted Baizhu to be more realistically unhealthy. I know we have his coughing in game, but I also wanted his appearance to mirror the illnesses he's taken on. I didn't go too in depth since I've been around dying/very ill people before and I didn't want to get too detailed, but the point is he looks sick. Also, I thought to add some more reptilian traits as well, although some of them are hidden under his clothes (I saw some fanart of a more adeptus-looking Baizhu a while ago and loved the design, if I can find it again I'll link it here)

2) I thought it'd be interesting for the eye-swap thing between Baizhu and Changsheng to have actual effects, and so one of the things is that Baizhu can see the ghosts while Changsheng can hear them. There's other details I'd add if there was a Baizhu centric POV (not in the plans), but I think my Baizhu would have the visual sense of a snake, which would have an effect on his perception (while Changsheng has the visual sense of a human)

3) Signora reappears. I wanted to have fun with her arm loss, and so I decided to play with her design as well! She was originally going to have a mechanical arm courtesy of Sandrone, but a fire arm has so much fun potential, so she gets a limb made of flame instead :3

4) Given Skirk's trailer and teaser, I included some details from both about her, including her limb regeneration and some hints about Sharzad's plans with Teyvat's false sky. I won't give too many details in the hopes that I don't have to go fully away from canon too soon (or rewrite portions of this). My plan at the moment is to slowly link this to HSR for potential fics in the future (including a Ratiorine one), but we shall see! I also still have to play Amphoreus but depending on the details we get from there, my plans may evolve as we learn more.

5) Since we only know the names of Childe's younger siblings, I came up with the names for his three older siblings, trying to stick to the simultaneous Russian and Ancient Greek hero names. Yelena is the Russian form of Helen (as in, Helen of Troy), Leonid is a Russian form of Leonidas (a Spartan king known for defending the pass of Thermopylae from the Persians in 500 BCE), and Nestor is the king of Pylos in the Illiad (and is also a name used in Russia).

6) Aether told Sharzad what he thinks, hooray! There'll be more of this in the next chapter, but considering how long this one is, I thought I'd leave you guys with a fun cliffhanger to wait on for next week.

Also about next week, expect the Ragnvindr chapter soon. I finally got past my writer's block with regards to it and now I have the beginnings of a short story. I'm anticipating a oneshot between 2.5-4k words, so it should be about the length of a typical chapter for me. Yay!

I also needed to thank all of you guys for the love on this fic (and all the preceeding ones as well). Whirling of Leaves and Petals, our lovely intro to Sharzad just it 1000 Kudos and I wanted to say that I appreciate it so much. I wasn't expecting this many people reading, commending, and Kudosing this fic when I put up the first few chapters, and now, almost a year on, I'm so thankful for all of your love and support. I can't wait to share the rest of Sharzad's story with you all!

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 17: Interlude: Diplomatic Meeting I

QUEST

Diplomatic Meeting I

Go to the Jade Chamber

Aether and Sharzad sat in front of each other on the hotel room floor while Paimon floated nearby. A plate, once full of baklava pulled from Sharzad’s Inventory, sat in the center of their wonky-looking triangle.

“So, let Paimon get this straight . . . all of the stuff that happens around you is because you see the world as a game?”

Sharzad sighed. It was one thing to go over things with Aether, who clearly knew what a video game was, but Paimon? Woof, whole different beast. She, like any normal person in Teyvat, didn’t know what a videogame was and thus Sharzad had to work around an explanation that didn’t include the fact that she had been reincarnated.

“It’s more accurate to say I experience the world like it’s a game. I don’t think of the world itself as a game, that’d be . . . weirdly immoral of me, I guess? People aren’t playthings.”

“Even if Celestia thinks otherwise,” Nabu mumbled from her perch. She and Deshret had moved to the bed, still engrossed in their planning notes.

Given she knew that full well, Sharzad didn’t bother asking questions. Whatever Nabu’s beef was, that could be talked about later.

“Oh, okay!” Paimon said with a nod.

Aether, meanwhile, still looked confused. “I still don’t understand this . . . wishing stuff.”

But he understood the background music apparently, so that was a win in Sharzad’s book.

“I—ah, okay.” Sharzad pulled up the System, which she’d made visible to everyone for the purpose of demonstration. Clicking on the Wish screen, she turned it to Aether. “Here. You can see the currency I’ve saved and the available wishes. So, right now, the available five stars are Vortex Vanquisher, Verdict, and Vivid Notions. I’m usually one to save my currency, but for the sake of demonstration, you can do a ten pull on Vortex Vanquisher.”

The Traveler frowned at her. “Is it a good weapon?”

Sharzad shrugged. “Being honest, from the look of it it’s kind of mid-tier, but it’s the most useful to me at the moment out of these three. See that timer?” she pointed at the screen as she did so. “I have just over twelve days before these wishes reset, but until then, might as well try since weapons only come back around once every two years. Besides, if I don’t get the five star, which is highly likely, I’ll be building pity for the next one I want.”

Which she wasn’t entirely sure of yet. She had a decent arsenal as it was, and while it could be useful to go with one of the weapons from Genshin’s later updates, she vaguely remembered that a lot of them only worked with specific mechanics she didn’t have. Besides, a weapon from those regions would be impossible to upgrade unless she took a detour into currently uncharted territory, and she didn’t feel ready for that just yet.

“You don’t need Morax’s weapon,” Deshret told her.

“I have shields now, so it’ll be useful,” she retorted before nodding at Aether. “Go on, click it.”

Unfortunately, the blond’s fingers phased right through the System.

“Damnit. Guess making it visible doesn’t make it tangible.” Instead of reaching for the screen, Sharzad scooted over to Aether’s side. “Okay, watch.” She hit the button for a ten pull. “So, there’s a little animation that–” her voice cut off, turning into a shriek. “–gold?!”

She was on a 50/50, which meant that she could either win or lose right now. And given her history, it was probably going to be a loss–

You have obtained the five star weapon, Vortex Vanquisher. Open your Inventory for more details.

“Sweet Lord Rukkhadevata,” she breathed. “Holy shit.”

Paimon blinked at her. “What? Is that a bad thing?”

“Um . . .” Sharzad laughed, and while it wasn’t out of nervousness, it sure sounded like it. “No.”

After standing, she walked a few paces away from Aether and Paimon before taking the new weapon from her Inventory. The thing was taller than her, as a spear should be. Its shaft was made of a dark wood resembling ebony, and it shimmered with a faint golden pattern of dragon scales. Either end was tipped in a dark gold metal, which secured the glowing stone (or was it metal? She really couldn’t tell) forming the sharp, ornate spear point and the smaller, simpler tip at the other end of the weapon.

“Huh.” Sharzad hummed as she shifted her grip on the polearm. It felt decently balanced in her hands, its tip less heavy than she’d anticipated. Perhaps the strange material the point was made of was lightweight, or had no mass at all. Teyvat was magic after all, so it was a possibility. “Not bad at all.”

“So you . . . win weapons?”

“Or lose. Like I said earlier, the 50/50 mechanic is a little strange at first but you get used to it. At least most of the losses aren’t . . . bad.”

And since she didn’t have multiple characters she had to give weapons to, she could immediately refine four and five star weapons without complaint. Meaning that even her 50/50 loses guaranteed her better weapons in the long run—in fact, she planned on upgrading her R2 Lost Prayer to the Sacred Winds so that when she unlocked the catalyst, she had two five star options ready (the other was A Thousand Floating Dreams, Nahida’s signature weapon, obtained around a year or so earlier).

“But they’re still losses, right?” Paimon asked. “So it’s still bad.”

“I mean, it would be if I didn’t save up my currency for the right time. Since I do save, even a lost 50/50 doesn’t mean the end of things since I have a guarantee for the next pull.”

Also, though she wasn’t going to say it again, the selection of standard five star weapons wasn’t that awful. Most of them held up well compared to her selection of four star weapons, which had grown so massive that Sharzad was quite certain she owned at least one copy of most, if not all, of the available four star weapons.

Seriously, she had more than she knew what to do with. By now, her original Xiphos’ Moonlight had been completely refined and she had a whole two more copies to boot. Even if she didn’t have a suitable five star weapon for a given task, she definitely had the four star for the job.

Although maybe I should start thinking about building myself as a character . . . if I had a kit that worked that way. Hmm.

Getting stronger was always a plus, and she hadn’t really tested Morax’s shields yet. So even without a kit, maybe she could improve her strength with training.

Oh, and artefacts, weapons, and leveling, of course.

~~~

Seeing as Sharzad felt much better the next morning, she decided to accompany Aether on his usual trip to the Adventurers’ Guild to see if they had any new (high paying) commissions.

“If not, I think I’ll head to Mondstadt to see what they have there,” Aether said as they walked across the bridge linking Chihu Rock to Feiyun Slope. “If you don’t mind us leaving you alone for a bit.”

Sharzad waved a hand. “It’s all good, just leave me a message if you end up staying overnight. And I’ll be doing political stuff all day, but if Ningguang or anyone else asks, you’re out exploring.”

She’d received a message from the Tianquan late in the afternoon the day before, very politely demanding a meeting for the next day at her earliest convenience. Deshret and Nabu had both insisted that this would be a great opportunity to do some hands-on learning about politics, so Sharzad had dressed as Sumerian as possible (while keeping her layers because it was still winter and snow was threatening to show up later that day) and mentally prepared herself to filter through concealed lies and half-warped truths.

“I hope your ability to lie has improved. Otherwise his true activities will be revealed anyway.”

Nabu nudged Deshret with her shoulder. The pair walked slightly ahead of Sharzad, Aether, and Paimon, uncaring of whether they passed through people or not. “It’s not a lie.” Turning her head, her pink locks caught the sunlight as she smiled. “I have faith in you, Sharzad.”

“As always,” Deshret grumbled.

“Jealous, my sun?”

Deshret stuttered, head turning side to side, before he promptly turned into a bird and perched himself on Nabu’s shoulder. Sharzad did her best to stifle her laughter, but a giggle or two escaped, and she found herself on the receiving end of a disapproving avian gaze.

“I do not understand what is so amusing, mortal.”

Sharzad wished she wasn’t in public, just so she could retort with a back to ‘mortal,’ am I? Unfortunately, walking through the streets of Liyue Harbor meant that speaking to invisible forces might get her locked up somewhere for insanity. Assuming Liyue had insane asylums.

Within ten minutes, Aether and Paimon left for the outskirts of Liyue Harbor, intending to teleport to Mondstadt to see if there were any commissions there (because the ones in Liyue were pitifully easy). Given she saw no point in stalling, Sharzad promptly left for Yujing Terrace in order to get to the Jade Chamber.

Bu’yun, the man in charge of taking people up to the floating palace, let her through as soon as he saw Ningguang’s letter, which Sharzad helpfully held out to him, and after a small speech about safety precautions, the man did something to the platform that sent it flying into the air.

Deshret began lecturing her as soon as they were airborne (and alone). “You will be careful. Do not say too much, but you cannot say too little, either.”

“What can I say, then?”

“Acknowledge your plans for the future, but do not give her any semblance of a timeline.”

Nodding along to his wife’s suggestion, Deshret added, “A timeline puts pressure, and a constraint none of us want.”

“And displays of power?”

“Keep them to a minimum if you can. If you want your horns and your crown, now is the time to summon them.” Based on the way she spoke, it seemed like Nabu was sharing a lesson learned from past mistakes. “Anything too overt will either antagonize them or render them fearful. Even if Lady Ningguang has considerable authority, she is still human, and most humans are afraid of the divine and of things they do not understand. You happen to fit both of those categories in different ways.”

Sharzad nodded before closing her eyes. The crisp winter wind blew her hair in every direction conceivable, even her mouth, as she allowed her horns to form and, with them, a crown of laurels to match the green details on her mostly black dress.

Deshret observed her, eyes narrowed. “Your speed and control has improved. Perhaps these past two weeks have not been so wasteful after all.”

“Well, we learned a lot of stuff. Like all that stuff about your pasts, or how I could, in theory, tap into some of Nabu’s other powers.”

“Amun and I discussed that yesterday, actually.” Nabu’s entire body seemed to light up with the sheer amount of pride in her voice and eyes. “You facing Osial made us both reconsider the versatility of your abilities, and we’ve completely redesigned the training schedule so it’s more streamlined and . . . sensible, I suppose. Whatever ability, concept, or skill you are training will be directly connected to what came before and after, advancing in difficulty.”

“We have several charts,” Deshret added, sounding like he wanted Sharzad to ask to see them. What a nerd, Sharzad thought fondly, only to be proven even more right by Deshret’s next sentence. “Color-coded based on how we decided to categorise what you shall learn. Mine and Nabu’s powers are separate, of course, and broken down further based on our numerous domains, which we examined carefully with the help of your deals to ensure we have not forgotten anything. We also have space for weapon-specific combat, as well as politics and other parts of rulership. Anything that does not fit here is in its own miscellaneous category with any necessary aids like Morax noted down for your–”

While Deshret clearly had no intention of stopping, the flying platform had finally arrived at the Jade Chamber. Sharzad took a calming breath before saying, “Thanks, we’ll talk about it later,” and stepping off (she also ignored the pop-up telling her that her mission objective changed. That was pretty obvious).

The walk to the Jade Chamber’s main doors felt like an eternity as Sharzad wondered whether she was supposed to knock or not. Or what if Ningguang wasn’t awake yet? Was she too early? It didn’t feel too early, but maybe the Tianquan got special privileges? Or was she supposed to bring a gift–

A voice interrupted her whirling thoughts. “Your Highness.”

The speaker was a Liyuean woman wearing a dress (or maybe it was a tunic?) made from red fabric and trimmed with gold, under which a dark brown skirt so dark it looked black. Her black hair was cut into a bob so precise that Sharzad’s mind immediately went to Edna Mode.

Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh–

“Lady Ningguang has been expecting you.” The woman opened the door, gesturing for Sharzad to walk inside. “Welcome back to the Jade Chamber.”

“Thank you.”

The interior of the place was absolutely beautiful, and had Sharzad not grown up under Kaveh’s wing, she would have been walking around with her jaw dropped in awe. Compared to the renders in Genshin Impact, the real Jade Chamber felt like an opulent palace with premium materials and artistry covering every inch of space. All the decor, from the delicately painted flower vases to the large central lamp illuminating everything, had clearly been chosen with meticulous attention to detail. The damn place was even symmetrical from the look of it! Absolute madness!

Sharzad was ushered past the central staircase (was that a double helix? She couldn’t remember a double helix in Genshin Impact) and into a large room to the side. Large panels of solid, carved jade sat near the back wall, contrasting with the wooden furniture and, of course, the golds and yellows Ningguang typically wore.

The Tianquan in question sat behind an absurdly wide desk, reading from a scroll with her brows furrowed in concentration. She looked the same as she had a few days earlier, suggesting that her clothes were more of a uniform than anything else. Maybe that made things easier for her, but Sharzad would suffer if she had to wear the same thing everyday like she did at the Akademiya.

“Lady Ningguang,” the woman with Sharzad announced. “She’s here.”

Ningguang looked up from her paper, and for a moment, Sharzad wondered if she was supposed to take the initiative or not.

“Wait,” Deshret told her. “She will move first.”

And, indeed, Ningguang rose from her seat, though she kept holding the scroll. “Good morning, Your Highness. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

As Ningguang told the woman to leave with a nod, Deshret turned into his bird form and perched on Sharzad’s shoulder. “Walk forward, greet her with her title.”

Seeing no reason to disobey, Sharzad did as he told her to. “Thank you for the invitation, Lady Ningguang. I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”

“Don’t worry. I’d be staying on schedule regardless of when this meeting occurred.” Gesturing to the chair across from her desk, Ningguang sat back down. “Shall we begin?”

Sharzad took the offered seat, doing her best to look elegant as she crossed one leg over the other. “I take it you have an agenda for this conversation? Tell me, what do you want from me, Lady Ningguang?”

The Tianquan paused before answering, allowing a heavy silence to settle over them before she leaned slightly forward. “That depends. Who are you really?” The nail-shaped rings on Ningguang’s fingers made faint metallic noises as she drummed her fingers on her desk. “You call yourself a queen, something that the adepti and even Osial seemed to recognize, yet the only records of a kingdom in Sumeru’s desert come from thousands of years ago. My sources tell me your predecessors were Nabu Malikata and Deshret, who both died around one thousand five hundred years ago, and yet you claimed not to be their child two days ago, which raises questions about the origins of your . . . supernatural abilities.”

Well, magic was nature in Teyvat, but Sharzad wasn’t about to snark the woman who was basically Liyue’s leader.

“Stay silent,” Nabu advised. “She will fill the silence with more of her theories.”

“However . . . two years ago, we received reports of a case in Sumeru where researchers tried to sacrifice a young girl to revive King Deshret.” Ningguang picked up one of the scrolls on her desk. “I can only assume that the ritual failed, but not in a way the published sources claim. Instead of failing entirely, they managed to create a new god.” Red eyes narrowed in Sharzad’s direction, cold, unfeeling, and stern. Part of Sharzad missed her father’s kinder gaze more than ever. “You.”

It took Sharzad a very long moment to process this. Meanwhile, Deshret had outright burst into laughter, the sound coming out as caws on occasion due to his avian form.

Me? A new god? The idea would have been laughable if the situation wasn’t so tense. Perhaps she should laugh, but Ningguang would probably question her sanity, so Sharzad held off for now.

“Think whatever you want,” Sharzad said after a moment’s consideration. “My legitimacy is only a concern to the Eremites, who are my predecessors’ people and my future subjects. But seeing how every adeptus I’ve met respects my legitimacy, I think you already have your answer.”

Ningguang hummed, a small smile appearing on her face. It seemed a lot more genuine than it had when she’d initially greeted Sharzad two days earlier. “I asked Ganyu about you yesterday, and she seemed quite adamant that you were trustworthy. Forgive me for my hostility—I wanted to see if you were truly honest.”

“That’s–” Deshret stopped.

Nabu smiled, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “A move you would have done, Amun.”

“Hush, you.”

“Make me.”

Ignoring the gods and their flirtations for the moment, Sharzad leaned back in her chair. Her shoulders ached from her rigid posture, and while all she wanted to do was collapse into her seat, she forced herself to maintain her straight back. “I think even Osial’s reaction to me would have done the trick but whatever. I’ll let it slide for the moment since I’m sure confirming my legitimacy is related to what you want to ask. Given Liyue’s commerce-based economy, I’d wager you want a trade deal, and to do so, you needed to make sure I have the authority and power I claim to have.”

A raised eyebrow. Interest sparkling in narrowed red eyes. “You’re a gambler, I see.”

Sharzad huffed a laugh, suddenly thinking of blond hair, gemstones, and a peacock-esque demeanor. “Not at all. But I’m smart enough to examine the facts and select the outcome with the highest chance of happening.” Smiling from the kind of satisfaction only academics could bring her, Sharzad watched Ningguang’s expression for any change in mood. “So tell me, Lady Ningguang, am I right?”

~~~

In a way, it was nice to be back in Mondstadt. While Liyue Harbor was nice and all, Aether could certainly do without the ever-present smell of seawater and fish, or the dozens of merchants desperately trying to sell him wares at exorbitant prices.

By contrast, Mondstadt was . . . peaceful, in a way. More laid back. Chill, although today it seemed to apply to the winds more than anything else. Fresh snowfall covered the ground, though in the main streets it had melted away (probably by people with Visions), leaving footprints and the occasional horse or wagon tracks interrupting the blanket of white. Even with the cold and the snow, the citizens had still decorated the buildings with garlands made of pine and other evergreen foliage, giving the City of Freedom an almost . . . Christmassy air.

It was nice.

But Aether had been stuck inside for the last hour or so, hiding up on the top floor of the Angel’s Share in the hopes of meeting a stranger. While this might seem unwise, Aether had plenty of experience meeting with strangers for tasks in other worlds, so this was no different.

He only wished Diluc hadn’t made that face of pure disappointment when Aether shared his reason for returning to Mondstadt. The wine tycoon wasn’t at his bar tonight, but Aether and Paimon ran into him and Kaeya while trying to find information about the stranger. Neither knew anything about him, so Aether and Paimon had moved on, eventually ending up at the Angel’s Share after talking to a few other Mondstadters.

So there he was, Paimon at his side and a plate of a strange yet good-tasting potato and shrimp appetizer-thingies. Aether wasn’t entirely sure how to describe them or their taste, but he’d ordered them once before and they hadn’t been all that bad (he did want to see what Diluc would do if he just asked for the potato chips acting as the base though).

Charles, the bartender tonight, approached them sometime later in the evening. “Sir, the wine you ordered is here.” The man you’re searching for has arrived.

Aether nodded, letting the bartender take the empty plate of food so it didn’t look like he’d come up for no reason.

“What are you waiting for?” Paimon asked as he watched Charles leave. “Shouldn’t we be going down there?”

“Wait a few moments, otherwise it looks suspicious.” The stranger sounded evasive based on the information they’d gathered, and Aether knew that if it looked like he had spies working for him (even if Charles was technically Diluc’s spy, and not his), it’d be more likely for the stranger to run off than stay put and talk to them.

“Ooooh. Okay.”

Eventually, the pair went down to the first floor of the bar, immediately locating the stranger in question by virtue of his blond hair and, more importantly, strange clothing.

It seemed almost like armor at first glance—gauntlets and boots spiked and thick as if they were meant for war—but the rest of his dress seemed almost princelike, if anything. The outfit was almost entirely black, clearly tailored to accentuate details like his waist and muscles. A long, midnight blue cape with a high collar drew Aether’s attention to a face half-obscured by a mask of black and blue.

The stranger’s cerulean gaze was surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly) intense, becoming even more so when Aether and Paimon approached him. They stared at each other in silence for a few, very long, very awkward moments.

From up close, Aether noticed the man’s pupils were shaped like four-pointed stars. Just like Kaeya’s.

Given the man’s continued silence, Aether decided to take the initiative. “Hi, I’m an adventurer with the Adventurers’ Guild.”

Silence. Great.

Aether momentarily considered trying the Honorary Knight of Favonius title but decided against it. If the guy didn’t like the guild, he probably wouldn’t like Aether being associated with Mondstadt’s law enforcement.

“So, uh, I'm a traveler,” he tried instead. “I occasionally take commissions from the Adventurers’ Guild, but I’m really looking for my sister.”

The man’s expression didn’t change, but he finally spoke, his voice sounding soft and almost lazy with how slow it was. “A relative . . . I suppose that’s a good reason. Sit across from me, and we can talk.”

“Guess we've broken the ice,” Paimon said with a nervous giggle. “What a weird guy.”

The weird guy in question narrowed his eyes at Paimon. “Hmm. That little one beside you . . .”

“One of my traveling companions,” Aether replied. “The other is dealing with business in Liyue Harbor.”

“I see. Having someone to accompany you on your travels is a wise thing to do.” Then, in that same, drawling tone, he introduced himself. “My name’s Dainleif. I suppose you have some . . . business with me?”

Dainsleif. He knew that name, had heard of it before. Of course, this wasn’t the first time he’d heard a name he recognized on Teyvat, but this was a name he felt had some negative associations.

Right now, you can’t allow yourself to trust him.

Notes:

Woof, what a week this has been. But I got the chapter out in time, yay!

1) I finally took the time to make a list of the 5* weapons Sharzad owns. It took a while but it was really fun to do, so that's great. Sharzad's luck on the Vortex Vanquisher is inspired by my luck making a ten pull for fun on a character I don't want and then getting them anyway (looking at you Kinich).

2) Deshret turns into a bird when he's embarrassed (on purpose, because it's easier to process the physical and mental feeling of embarrassment in bird form). That's it. I just thought it was funny to mention since it's not really discussed in the scene

3) Writing Ningguang and Sharzad's interaction took way longer than I wanted to to be honest. It's really difficult to write a character like Ningguang, especially in a politics-type situation where a lot goes unsaid. Fun fact: Ningguang originally brought up Sharzad's academic record and Sharzad was going to show off her power in an eldritch kind of way, but I'm saving it for later :3

4) Aether meets Dain, hooray! I wanted to preserve the Dainsleif quests, for for various reasons, Sharzad isn't going to interact with him just yet, so that's going to have to wait a bit. Still, have fun knowing the We Will Be Reunited quest is happening in the background of the next chapter.

5) The reason Aether recognizes Dain's name is because "Dainsleif" is the name of a sword in Norse Mythology. The reason he's uneasy (not that he remembers at the time) is because that particular sword, once drawn, cannot be sheathed until it has "taken a life" (from the Genshin wiki).

Finally, and this is not a note, but I KNOW I said Ragnvindr bros this week, but I played Skirk's story quest (haven't played the Archon Quest with the twins bc I'm waiting for it to be fully voiced), and the amount of information I got sent me spiralling, so now I have a (currently) 5 page lore document that's going to end up at least ten times that in length with theories, plans, and a finally solidified backstory for Sharzad.

When I started writing Whirling of Leaves and Petals a year ago (it's been a year, oh my gods), I didn't really have a concrete plan for Sharzad's origins, but with the information we have now, I've come up with them, so after I finish writing the Ragnvindr chapter (this week, I promise!) I'm going to go through and rewrite several chapters in the original fic to fix inconsistencies and rework Sharzad's backstory. I'll make sure to let you guys know in the notes when those chapters are updated so you can reread them as needed.

That's it, really. It's a really long author's note but I had a lot to say this week :)

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 18: Interlude: Shield Training I

QUEST

Shield Training I

Avoid the rocks Zhongli throws at you

“While I appreciate the suggestion, trade routes to the north risk too many dangers in the Hadramaveth and Farakhert regions. The terrain is treacherous and the monsters even more so.” Sharzad gestured at the top of the map as she spoke. “Until I can ensure the safety of that territory, the trade routes in the southern seas are the only viable choice.”

They were still in Ningguang’s office, now standing by a large map of Teyvat. Cups of Chenyu adeptea sat on her desk, half-empty and abandoned after they’d moved on from preliminary trade agreements to setting up trade routes. Sharzad (and both her gods) thought that the tea had been an offering to tempt her into giving up more goods (in exchange for said tea), but she’d refused the offer in favor of the kind of material her people actually needed.

Deshret, now back in his physical form, leaned over the map, brows furrowed in concentration. “The existing roads are lacking, but there were ancient roads there used by my people thousands of years ago. Tell her you shall use the existing infrastructure and link the seas to internal trade networks.”

“There are ancient roads here–” she moved her finger as she spoke, following Deshret’s. “–and here. I’ll link them to the ports I’ll build to link my kingdom to the southern seas. From there, I’ll have caravans ready to trade with the rest of the desert.”

Sharzad would have no doubt said palace or capital instead of kingdom in that sentence, had it not been for Nabu’s advice early on to avoid those words. After all, Sharzad didn’t even have a secure throne yet, let alone Deshret’s full authority, so how could she possibly establish a capital city or build a palace?

Both of those things were actually Deshret’s suggestions, made to ensure she had some way to centralize her authority. Being honest, Sharzad would have preferred to stay home with her fathers, but she knew, at least for their safety, that it would be best to keep the two sides of her life separate. She couldn’t guarantee that her family wouldn’t be used against her, nor could she guarantee that it wouldn’t become targets for assassination attempts.

“You’ll alert us when that happens, I hope,” Ningguang said. When, rather than if felt more like simple courtesy than a sign of her true feelings. She probably didn’t expect Sharzad to succeed in her lifetime, which was fair. “If this agreement holds, Liyue will have access to a greater share of the Great Red Sand’s exports, and it would be best for the merchants–” and for the Liyue Qixing went unspoken. “–to have access to your ports before others in order to secure that trust.”

“You’re the first on my list so far,” Sharzad said. “Beyond internal trade and, of course, what Sumeru’s rainforest already provides to the desert.”

And what I’ll beg Papa to add to the list of rainforest exports when he becomes Grand Sage. Azar and the other Sages are too stuck up to realize that the Eremites need concrete aid rather than thoughts and prayers.

Ningguang tapped her chin with a thoughtful look on her face. “Have you considered where to build these ports?”

Instead of ghosting his hand across the map again, Deshret drew back with a hum. “There are a few possible areas we used to have docks, but they have likely long since crumbled into the sea.”

“Tell her you’ll have colleagues from the Akademiya and experienced sailors survey the areas for good locations,” Nabu suggested. “That should satisfy her.”

“I’ll have some of my Akademiya colleagues survey some potential areas with the aid of experienced sailors.”

“Hmm. Your willingness to admit where your information is lacking is refreshing.”

“That’s an insult,” Nabu helpfully supplied. Sharzad barely managed to suppress a groan—Ningguang had thrown out dozens of backhanded compliments in that same vein during their meeting, and it was thanks to Nabu and Deshret that she could successfully distinguish compliments from insults. However, it had been over an hour of this bullshit, and Sharzad was getting dangerously close to snapping. She could feel her power thrumming under her skin with every flash of annoyance, an innate suggestion to demand respect rather than pretend she already had it.

Stay calm, she told herself as the air around her hands warmed dangerously. For the love of Deshret, stay. Calm.

Withdrawing her hands to avoid incinerating the map, Sharzad forced out a huff, pasting on a small smile so she looked vaguely genuine. It probably looked like a grimace. “One of my mentors used to tell me that admitting lack of information is better than pretending to know all the facts, otherwise you’ll end up face planting in the end.”

Well, that particular advice was actually meant for scientific inquiry, and the mentor in question was Tighnari. What prompted this was a mushroom-induced high that happened before Sharzad’s expedition with Faruzan to Deshret’s library, during the short amount of time the Forest Watcher taught her survival skills and how to use Four-Leaf Sigils. The high in question happened because Sharzad mistakenly collected the wrong mushrooms (how was she supposed to know spots and dots were two different things?), and instead of lecturing her about it, Tighnari decided that a practical demonstration was best.

Which was why he ate a whole mushroom and forced Sharzad to sit in the room with him while he hallucinated . . . something. She could only remember the ever-present giggling and his justifications that it was “for science,” which it had definitely not been.

But hey, at least the advice helped her with something, if the pleased chuckle Deshret let out meant anything.

“She’s insulted,” he said after a moment. “Though she certainly won’t show it.”

~~~

The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was quiet today, which meant that Zhongli could indulge in some light reading after finishing his paperwork. With Childe now gone, he saw no point in venturing out into the harbor.

The fiery-haired Harbinger had only left a short note informing him that he’d left for Snezhnaya (no doubt to give his Archon the Geo Gnosis) and that he might return if the Tsaritsa had no other missions for him. Seeing as his . . . companion left the city and Zhongli had nothing to do, he stayed at the Funeral Parlor, picked up one of his books—a critique of Fontaine’s more . . . non-traditional laws—and began to read.

(Also, Morax’s more draconic instincts—those ingrained in his biology since he hatched all those millennia before—seemed to acknowledge Childe as a prospective mate, which made his departure all the more unbearable. Perhaps he should have caved and challenged Childe rather than avoiding the opportunities to duel him. At least the promise of a relationship would have lessened the ache in his heart and perhaps prevented the resurfacing memories of Guizhong, some of which were too painful to bear).

He had just flipped his page when a familiar voice filled the silence in the room.

“Morax, come deal with that child. She seems determined to harass my heir into getting an exorcism!”

The sound of Amun’s voice made him jump in his seat, but Zhongli forced his body (and face) to project a serene energy as he set his book down, marking the page with an elegantly crafted wooden bookmark bought a few hundred years earlier from a lovely craftsman living near the Chasm.

Amun had walked through the wall, and now stood across from him, glowering with arms crossed. To say he looked supremely annoyed would have been an understatement.

“Hu Tao is harassing her?” Without waiting for an answer, Zhongli left the office, linking his hands behind his back as he strode towards the front doors of Wangsheng. Unsurprisingly, Amun followed.

The light coming through the windows of the front room indicated that it was a cloudy day, but thankfully the still emptiness of the parlor was undisturbed save for the scratching of the Ferrylady’s pencil as she worked through her schedule for the following day.

It seemed Hu Tao was outside, so that was where he went. True to his expectations, it was cloudy outside, and his young boss was confronting a similarly aged princess.

“. . . harmful if you don’t take care of them. Besides, it’s best to send spirits to the Land of the Dead rather than letting them loiter with the living.”

A distinctly inhuman snarling noise filled the air, though Morax suspected only three people in the vicinity could hear it, him included.

Ah, Nabu is losing her grip on her human form.

That explained the multitude of eyeballs and several pairs of wings she’d sprouted. Not to mention, the claws and larger horns had emerged, too. How lovely—Zhongli had only seen her full true form once or twice before, for the Goddess of Flowers preferred assuming a vaguely humanoid shape at all times rather than dealing with her true form.

He supposed that hundreds of eyes would be quite the uncomfortable thing to see through, and the larger horns seemed quite unwieldy.

Sharzad, meanwhile, seemed deeply uncomfortable, but Morax couldn’t tell if this was because of Nabu’s form or because of Hu Tao. Perhaps both? She seemed to be shrinking back into her fur-lined cloak, her mouth wavering between a polite smile and a grimace. While her brown hair was pulled back into some sort of bun, the wavy strands escaping it gave her a frazzled kind of look, although this was diminished by the neatness of her clothing—made from adeptal silk from the look of them. Likely gifts from Cloud Retainer. To add to her stress, or perhaps as a show of it, the air around her trembled with rapidly fluctuating levels of elemental energy, clearly ready to be released at a moment’s notice if the situation didn’t resolve.

“Director Hu, I guarantee you that I do not need an exorcism.” While firm, Sharzad’s voice was quieter than normal. “The spiritual energy you see is—oh!” She’d spotted him, it seemed. The elemental energy around her calmed considerably as she straightened, confidence seemingly restored. “Hi Zhongli!”

He offered a polite nod and a smile. Who would he be to deny politeness to the heir of some of his oldest friends? “Hello.” Then, turning to his boss (who was staring at him with a tilted head and pursed lips), he raised one of his eyebrows. “Is something the matter, Director?”

“The same spiritual energy as last time I saw this lovely lady.” Hu Tao gestured in Sharzad’s direction. “But I know where you stand, so I won’t bother asking you for help. Even if I think it’s worth it to get this little problem checked out by Chongyun. Byeeeee!”

With a wink and a wave, Hu Tao vanished into the parlor, leaving two ghosts, a dragon, and a human standing together at the entrance. Nabu’s more otherworldly attributes receded, leaving her in a mostly human shape, save for a pair of wings and some claws that seemed quite reluctant to vanish.

“I am glad to see you have recovered from your ordeal a few days ago,” Zhongli said after a moment’s pause. Neither Childe nor Osial were easy opponents, after all, though he suspected Childe went easy on Sharzad because of her age.

He’s always kinder to children, he thought fondly, recalling an episode where the Harbinger helped to locate a lost child’s parents sometime during the summer months. Even with his dangerous reputation, it seemed Childe appeared safe to children, and, seeing how he acted around them, it wasn’t all that surprising.

“Recovered is a strong word considering I’m still dealing with some lingering energy drain but whatever.” Sharzad yawned, before leaning in slightly. “Quick question: are you busy?”

Zhongli frowned. “Have you decided to fulfill our contract this soon? I expected you to wait a little longer before you did so.”

“She–”

“And by ‘she,’ Amun means ‘we,’” Nabu added.

“We,” Amun corrected immediately. “Wish for you to train her, if possible. You know your shields better than anyone dead or alive, Morax, and it would be best that you instruct her rather than us allowing Sharzad to flounder through learning how to use them. Proper training prevents all sorts of injuries and skill issues, as evidenced by numerous incidents in Sharzad’s recent past.”

Sharzad scowled at Amun but didn’t say anything. A wise choice, considering Amun must have been correct. That tone was only ever used when he was greatly exasperated by something. Morax had rarely heard it in his thousands of years since Amun typically restricted that tone to his most private spaces.

“Hmm. Well, I certainly have no obligations at the moment,” Zhongli mused. He stroked his chin, trying to think if there truly was a reason to deny that particular request.

An exchange would be typical, of course, as he was the god of contracts and rarely did anything these days without a proper, and equivalent, exchange. But this was Amun and Nabu’s heir—practically their child, honestly—and Morax was well aware that this complicated matters immensely. Not to mention, he was responsible for Sharzad’s newly acquired shielding abilities, so surely it was his responsibility to teach her how to use them, right?

After another moment to think it over one final time, Morax nodded. “Very well, I shall assist you.”

“That’s awesome!” Sharzad practically bounced in her excitement, a few sunny yellow flowers sprouting in her hair as she did so. “Thank you so much!”

A smile tugged at Amun’s lips, though he did great work to conceal it. “Compose yourself.”

“Oh, let her enjoy herself, Amun! The opportunity to train with Morax is quite hard to come by. Impossible, if anything.” A teasing smile graced Nabu’s face, and she leaned into her husband to whisper in his ear. “With that free time, you’d even be welcome to–”

There was a poof of smoke, and Amun’s bird form fluttered onto Sharzad’s shoulder, beady eyes glaring at Nabu. “Do not speak of that in public!”

As Nabu insisted that she was referring to them sparring together rather than anything lewd, Morax couldn’t help but raise a hand to his mouth and chuckle fondly. It seemed his friends really hadn’t changed after all.

~~~

After carefully creating a blanket of interwoven vines, Sharzad flopped onto the ground, thoroughly drained and done with shield practice.

The way Morax set it up forced her to maintain varying sizes of shields for increasing increments of time as he pelted her with rocks of different sizes, supposedly to mimic attacks. While she’d expected rapid movements, perhaps combat training with shields incorporated or reflex training, Morax seemed determined to avoid seeing her fight until their eventual duel. Whenever that would end up being.

(Maybe he was also terrified of Cloud Retainer discovering that he was pushing Sharzad past her limits, but she doubted that the Lord of Geo was afraid of his own subordinates.)

Zhongli strolled to her side, effortlessly creating a rock beside her before sitting down. “Well done,” he said, sounding genuinely pleased. “You lasted longer this time.”

“At what cost?” she mumbled. There were bruises on her legs and arms, her head throbbed (though from a headache and dehydration rather than getting hit), and out of dozens of attempts, none of her shields held longer than a minute. It was honestly a miracle her shields protected the Jade Chamber from Osial’s attack, though she supposed the shields crumbling on impact was actually extremely normal.

Nearby, Deshret grunted as Nabu’s claymore collided with his spear, sending him sliding back several feet. He disengaged and whirled sideways a moment later, reappearing behind her.

Having evidently heard Sharzad’s grumbled comment, Zhongli hummed. “Rest and a good meal are hardly a steep cost for what benefit practice offers you. With enough time, your reflexes will be solid as stone, and it will take less than a second for you to summon a shield.”

“Describing fast reflexes with stone feels counterintuitive but I get what you mean.” Sharzad groaned as she sat up. “Fuuuuck, I can already tell I’ll be aching tomorrow.”

And she was sweating, which meant that she’d have to wash all her clothes to get rid of the smell. At least it wasn’t too sunny out, but that meant she had to make that blanket of vines under her body. Otherwise, she’d be covered in mud.

From here, she could see Guyun Stone Forest in the distance, the thin peaks left over from a great battle strangely contrasting with the god sitting next to her. It was difficult to reconcile the image of Rex Lapis, War God and Geo Archon, with Zhongli-slash-Morax who was, in the most polite terms possible, a massive nerd on par with several Akademiya Scholars. The man gave her a whole lecture about the origins of his shields before they began! A lecture that was practically a history lesson! Absolutely bonkers! (she did appreciate it, though, she had to admit)

Zhongli noticed where she was looking. “Do the spires interest you?”

Sharzad shrugged. “Perhaps in another life I’d want to excavate there, but knowing the power at my fingertips, it’s more of a challenge than anything else. Y’know, a sign of my potential.” Reaching up to undo her tangled ponytail, she sighed. “I didn’t have this much trouble with that kind of reminder during my Dastur thesis research, but then again, I didn’t know a lot about my power or those two.” She gestured at Nabu and Deshret, who were still fiercely dueling. It seemed the rules included no use of powers. Interesting. “Now that they took the time to analyze what they gave me . . .”

“The consequences of badly-written contracts always come to call.” The dragon god said this not as Zhongli, but as Morax. “They already know I disapprove of how they went about your original deals, and it seems the effects have finally reared their heads. Whatever power lies dormant within you, awakening it will not be easy, especially since you have suppressed it for so long.”

“Two years isn’t a lot.”

“For a mortal your age, it most definitely is.” Morax turned to face her. “And the habits built from such suppression are difficult to break—I know this, and some of the adepti know it even more intimately.” He sighed. “It will not be easy, especially given your inheritance of Nabu Malikata’s power. Sumeru’s myths do not do her true abilities justice.”

Sharzad hummed, staring out at Guyun Stone Forest again. The site of Morax’s legendary battle with Osial, the one that entombed the Overlord of the Vortex for millennia. Osial, whom Nabu apparently fought on several occasions.

“Did you ever see her fight?”

“Few times in the grand scheme of things—I saw Amun in combat many more times, including when we sparred together. But with the divine, the shows of true power are rarely the ones in combat, but rather the ones done in times of peace. There is little that can compare to the power and skill required to create sprawling ecosystems, shape mountains, and birth springs. They are true miracles, but human tales often forego these peaceful times in favor of dramatic chronicles of battle and great ancient mysteries.” He sighed again. “Perhaps that is why her portrayal in myths seems so . . . lackluster. Nabu was rarely one to draw a blade, and her opponents typically died too quickly to warrant some dramatic tale. Unlike many of us, she refuses to even the playing field at first, seeing it as playing with her prey rather than fighting fair.”

Nabu’s claymore flashed through the air as she threw it at Deshret, who had no choice but to dodge the harsh blow.

“She’s not using her power right now.”

Morax laughed. “A training spar is different. But in combat . . . the most dangerous ones of all oft seem the most innocent and kind, but they are the ones who will give no mercy if their trust is betrayed or their loved ones are endangered.”

~~~

The journey to Snezhnaya was a long one, even with Fatui technology shortening the typically twenty day journey to a mere seven. Though he didn’t plan on staying for long, Childe had no choice but to jump on the first ship to his home nation so he could finally deliver the Gnosis to his queen, along with news of Sharzad’s . . . well, she wasn’t allying with them, but she’d revealed how to avoid becoming her enemy, so Childe was considering it a win.

“I am glad to see you unharmed.”

The Tsaritsa spoke barely above a whisper, yet it seemed even the crackling fireplace quieted at the sound of her voice. Her dress was simpler today, the kind she wore when she wasn’t appearing in public, as was her delicate diadem. Nevertheless, ice crystals decorated her torso in patterns resembling snowflakes, and while she’d abandoned the rich furs and the large crowns, there was no mistaking the Cryo Archon.

They sat alone together in one of the palace’s parlors. While rumors spoke that the whole building was made of ice, in truth, Zapolyarny was built of stone, and its interior was quite . . . normal wasn’t entirely the right word. Mundane, perhaps? Anyway, the parlor was decorated in tasteful shades of red and brown, giving it a comfortable aura rather than an intimidating one. The central carpet was Sumerian, probably older than Tartaglia’s great-grandparents, colored red but decorated with fine gold thread and embellishments in the shape of some kind of bird. A small array of snacks and tea took up the table in between him and the Tsaritsa, and Tartaglia tried not to think too hard about the cups of tea. That would inevitably lead him to Liyue and Zhongli and–

“I admit, I was concerned when I heard you had been treated for wounds after Osial appeared, but it seems those were self-inflicted, were they not?”

“Not exactly. While I didn’t fight Osial, I did locate the creature that attacked La Signora.”

It felt weird to talk about Sharzad like she was an Abyssal beast waiting to be slain. Now that Childe knew her identity—and that, beyond the everyday madness and weirder aspects of her personality, she was quite the intelligent, bright girl—he couldn’t particularly stomach treating her as a being with no higher consciousness. She was a kid!

His queen sighed heavily, posture remaining straight despite her disappointed tone. “Did you speak to it first before engaging in battle?”

Busted.

Oh, she knew him too well. “Several times, Your Majesty, although I didn’t know it until days later.” Bracing himself for a fiery reaction (ironic for the Cryo Archon), Tartaglia continued. “She is a teenager from Sumeru, who has personally assured me she has no trouble with the Fatui themselves, only in the fairness and safety of our methods. It seems the damage to La Signora’s arm was an . . . unfortunate accident after her theft of Barbatos’ Gnosis.”

There was a moment of frosty silence, before the Tsaritsa raised her cup of tea to her lips and took a sip. “A child with the power to rival not one, but two of my Harbingers? I hope you did not go easy on her, Tartaglia, if she attacked you.”

“We had a friendly duel, which she agreed to. But I don’t know how it would have ended, since–” he cleared his throat. “–Zhong— Morax showed up to stop both of us from going any further.”

That tidbit made the Tsaritsa’s eyes narrow just enough for Tartaglia to notice. “Morax intervened?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. And he also–” Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, Tartaglia continued. “–he disguised himself as a human for months to make his plan succeed and, as it turns out, was the funeral parlor consultant I hired to be my cultural guide in Liyue.”

“Did he hand the Gnosis to you?" A lighthearted, almost amused chuckle. "I must tell you, the Eighth was quite incensed when he declined to show up at Northland Bank for the scheduled handover.”

The artefact in his pocket suddenly felt much heavier than it had previously, as if the Geo energy within had been awakened by the mention of its vessel. Tartaglia reached to grab it, before holding it out to the Tsaritsa. She took it from his hands, inspecting it carefully.

“He gave it to me personally after Osial’s failed attack.”

Childe didn’t have to tell her about Zhongli’s promise to talk whenever he was ready, or the knuckle kisses, or the implied notion that Childe’s affections were reciprocated. Or the lavish gifts and delicious meals and that one time–

The way the Tsaritsa looked at him, one thin eyebrow raised, told him she knew what he was hiding. Or, at least, that he was hiding something. “What else? I can sense the fractures of a broken heart on you—did you have affections for Morax’s human identity, Ajax?”

The mention of his real name sent his shoulders slumping as if he was a pouting child. Such an opportunity to be truly vulnerable in front of his queen was a rare occurrence even for her beloved Vanguard, youngest of the Harbingers. Even she rarely addressed him by his real name these days, but then again, he’d developed his Childe persona so well that sometimes, it felt more like him than, well, him, and no one who did know his real name (save his family) bothered to call him by it.

Would Zhongli, if I asked—NO. Focus.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said dejectedly.

“I see.” For another long moment, the Tsaritsa gazed at him, a pensive expression painting her face. Eventually, she plucked a delicately decorated cookie from the tray of snacks. “I’ll see to it that you remain in Liyue for the time being. Damage control for the Fatui’s reputation is required, after all—I have only received two missives from the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing, but I am certain there shall be more if someone of high enough status does not meet her for damage control after La Signora decided to interfere with the defense of Liyue.”

Notes:

I'm going to be so honest, this chapter went in a completely different direction than I expected, and only because Zhongli decided it was time to talk about power instead of throwing rocks at Sharzad lmao

1) True to some of your predictions, Nabu and Deshret were giving Sharzad hints and coaching her from the sidelines during her entire meeting with Ningguang :) Neither went full animal mode but boy oh boy was Deshret pissed SEVERAL times by some of Ningguang's comments

2) Given what we know about Snezhnaya, I did my best to estimate what a voyage north (by boat) might be like with several fanmade maps and my own predictions about Snezhnaya's geography. I'm hoping this stays close to canon because I'm doomed otherwise lol

3) The portrayal of the Tsaritsa is a hard thing to do since we know so little about her (and because the reports of her conflict each other so much). I've decided to give her a colder kind of personality that compensates for (but doesn't conceal) the gentleness and compassion she's described as having. I also thought that it'd be interesting for her to use her Harbingers' true identities/names as a way to denote the formality of their meetings and how openly she is talking. She definitely knows that Childe and Zhongli are in love with each other though :)

Soooo, in other news, the Ragbros chapter is nearly finished! It won't be a complete reconciliation, but it will have them on much better terms with one another, so yay! I'll be finishing up the last section and it should be up sometime on Wednesday (hopefully)

Next week, we'll have a stopover in Sumeru for a catch-up with the dads and the aftermath of the We Will Be Reunited quest. I know that in canon it's separate from Bough Keeper, but I decided to merge them bc of time constraints, among other reasons. Afterwards, it should be Lantern Rite, tying up some loose ends, and then off to Inazuma!

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 19: Interlude: Family Reunion(s)

QUEST

Family Dinner II

Have dinner with your fathers

While the newspapers didn’t mention a specific person taking down Osial, Overlord of the Vortex, Alhaitham was more than intelligent enough to know that his daughter must have been involved in some capacity.

A giant (supposedly deceased) deity attacked Liyue Harbor, and he was not supposed to assume that the girl with two (supposedly dead) gods bound to her soul was involved? Foolish. She had to be.

Still, unfortunately, it seemed that Alhaitham’s predictions barely revealed the scale of the shenanigans his daughter got into.

Sharzad arrived for her monthly visit on a rather sunny evening. This time, Alhaitham was the one to greet her at the door, to watch her take off her shoes and outerwear before venturing further into the house.

“You’re wearing a cloak this time. Good. But I don’t remember seeing that particular outfit before, Sharzad.” Alhaitham frowned at the elegant midnight-blue top with lantern-style sleeves she wore (it resembled some of Kaveh’s favourite shirts, minus the low-cut front and back), noticing that her white pants, too, were clearly not Sumerian. The style was close enough that one might assume them to be from the Land of Dendro, but Alhaitham had absorbed enough information about fashion (mostly against his will) to recognize that it wasn’t truly Sumerian. “Tell me you’re spending money responsibly.”

Such a style could only be bought via commission, especially in Liyue.

Sharzad waved a hand. “Oh, don’t worry Papa. These are from an adeptus.”

An adeptus? The reclusive immortal beings mostly known from Liyue’s legends and distant past? While he certainly believed they existed (Alhaitham could see Aranara, after all), he wasn’t entirely sure how his daughter could have met one, let alone procured clothing from it.

Alhaitham crossed his arms. “Elaborate.” Because if unprompted, Sharzad would no doubt leave it at they’re from an adeptus.

“The Geo Archon sent me on a quest to find the adepti before I could properly make a deal with him. One of said adepti is an old friend of Nabu and Deshret, who immediately saw me, decided I was a wayward child with no parents, and then promptly tried to adopt me.” Rolling her eyes, Sharzad exhaled an exasperated sigh, before leading Alhaitham into the kitchen. “I told her I had fathers, numerous times, and she eventually settled on lecturing Nabu and Deshret about proper training, before gifting me a wardrobe made of adeptal silk. Which makes them extremely durable. Meaning it’s actually kind of useful, thank the gods.”

Alhaitham stopped in the doorway, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wooden doorframe. “Sharzad, the Geo Archon is dead.”

His daughter laughed nervously, which was not a good sign. That was the kind of laugh that usually preceded a lie. “Gods are considerably more destructive when they die, Papa.”

Wait–

Kaveh, who was busy cutting up a Zaytun Peach, was clearly doing his best not to panic if the shaking of his shoulders meant anything. “The Geo Archon is still alive.” Not a question.

Sharzad hummed. “I’m bound by contract not to talk about the specifics.”

The energy with which Kaveh nervously vibrated could have powered a Ksharewar creation for years. “You made a deal with him?”

“Shields, restricted by several parameters to keep me from injuring myself.” Thank Kusanali, Alhaitham thought. Kaveh, too, relaxed. “I have a paper copy if one of you wants to read it.”

There was a moment of silence where Alhaitham waited to see if his husband would respond, when he didn’t, he decided to answer in his stead.

“We’ll save it for later, I think.” Taking a step forward, he finally hugged his daughter, planting a soft kiss on her head, before stepping back once more. “We’re just happy you’re in one piece after battling that sea monster.”

“I haven’t told you about that!”

This was enough for Kaveh to drop the peach. He washed the juice off his hands and then turned to stare at his daughter. “Sharzad,” he said, voice brimming with the kind of disappointment parents reserved when their children tried (and failed) to lie to them. “A supposedly dead god appeared in Liyue. You have a history with dead gods—it’s not hard to figure out that you had something to do with it.”

Sharzad pouted. “I didn’t mean to summon him!”

“I’m sure you didn’t. But somehow, you did.”

An exasperated sigh left Sharzad’s mouth. She gesticulated wildly as she spoke. “Look, I got into one fight with a Harbinger— one —and that ocean demon—which was already stirring, by the way, so I didn’t wake him up—decided to come over because of some deep history with Nabu and Deshret, whose powers he sensed by some demonic turn of fate. I did jack shit to wake up Ocean Satan.”

A Harbinger? Well, if Alhaitham’s hair hadn’t already been grey, he would have certainly been growing his first few strands. What in the actual–

Kaveh ran a hand through his hair with an exasperated groan. “Sharzad!”

“It was a fair duel! And the guy was sent to kill me so–”

Bad word choice. Alhaitham winced as his husband’s voice reached a feverish, panicked pitch. “A HARBINGER WAS SENT TO KILL YOU?!”

Though he felt bad at the sight of their daughter cringing away from Kaveh, Alhaitham thought that panic was a reasonable reaction (though the yelling was a bit much). There was absolutely no reason a sixteen-year-old should end up on the Fatui’s hit list, and there was especially no reason for a Harbinger to be dispatched to kill her. What had Sharzad done?

“I really should have mentioned that in my letter,” Sharzad mumbled, just barely loud enough for Alhaitham to hear her.

Meanwhile, Kaveh had crossed his arms and leaned back against the kitchen counter, an expectant look on his face. He took a long, slow breath before starting to speak. “Sharzad Athari Taftazani, you are going to tell me why the Fatui want to kill you this instant, or I will personally ground you to this house for the next year, teleportation be damned!”

A grimace passed over Sharzad’s face, before she said, in a very defensive tone: “Okay, so first off, they don’t want to kill me anymore, and also most of the ones who know I exist only know that I have horns, which I don’t normally so–”

“Horns?” Alhaitham echoed. He’d relaxed for a moment only to snap back to attention at the mention of horns.

Sharzad blinked at him. “I didn’t show you?” Then, after a moment. “I guess I didn’t. Let me just–”

Her face scrunched up in concentration. Alhaitham wisely took another step back as the usual pink energy took over her body, though it stayed around her head this time. Then, after a short moment, something grew out of her head. There, a pair of curved horns sprouted from her hair, brown with an oddly gold sheen to them.

“There.”

Alhaitham startled as Kaveh’s hand found his, gently squeezing it in comfort. He hadn’t even realised he was trembling from unease at the sight of those horns. Was it painful to grow them? Had Sharzad undergone other changes? Was this the power of her gods? Why hadn’t it appeared before now? How long did she have them?

“Sharzad–” Alhaitham hesitated, still trying to work through the sudden torrent of thoughts filling his head. “Does it—is it painful?” Kaveh squeezed his hand again, and he took a slow breath.

“My neck used to cramp from the weight, but it’s fine now.” Sharzad offered him a small, reassuring smile. “I’m okay Papa.” Taking a step forward, she gave a little nod of her head. “You can even touch them, if you want.”

Kaveh was the one to reach forward and hesitantly graze one of the growths with his fingertip. 

Sharzad didn’t recoil completely when he made contact, but she did flinch (Kaveh withdrew his hand immediately). “Hmm. Didn’t realize they had nerves.” After another moment of concentration, her horns vanished. Clearly concerned, Sharzad narrowed her eyes at both her fathers, gaze flitting between the two. “You’re worried.”

“We don’t want this . . . transformation affecting your health,” Alhaitham said. “Is this the only thing that’s happened to you? You haven’t developed . . . other inhuman traits?”

Not that they were bad themselves—he’d readily accept his daughter no matter if she grew feathers or fangs or gods knew what else—but he didn’t want them to hurt her. He didn’t want Sharzad to be in pain because of something divine she couldn’t entirely control.

“So far, this is it.” So far was enormously concerning. “Now, back to your original demand, Dad—the Fatui wanted to kill me because I accidentally tore off a Fatui Harbinger’s arm in Mondstadt and, long story short, the Cryo Archon sent a different Harbinger to find me.” Alhaitham forced himself not to smile fondly as Sharzad grabbed at her hair in a very similar motion as Kaveh had moments. This was a serious conversation, not time to think about how adorable the similarities between father and daughter were. “Said Harbinger is a moron with an even more painful love story than yours–” she jabbed her finger at both her parents. “–and after I told him I’m not against the Fatui as an organization, we fought it out for fun.”

Alhaitham blinked at the love story comment. What about us was painful?

Kaveh looked scandalized. “Fighting a Harbinger? For fun?”

“Childe’s . . . well, he’s weird to put it lightly, Dad.” Sharzad sighed, confidence dropping from her voice as if that breath took all of it away. Her arms and head sagged downwards. “I’m really sorry for worrying you—with the whole Harbinger situation and with the horns. I just thought, since I dealt with the situation, there was no need to tell you, and I seriously believed that I’d already shown you the horns.”

“Buuuut?” Kaveh prompted.

“But that kind of thing comes up in conversation anyway, and even if the Fatui don’t want me dead anymore, that’s still information I should have given you. So again, I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence. Alhaitham managed to smile in approval at Sharzad’s apology, although his attempt was made considerably more difficult by the ever present tornado of thoughts in his head. He had questions about the horns, about her gods, about her adventures, about the Fatui and that Harbinger, about why she thought his and Kaveh’s relationship was painful–

Calm down. Compartmentalize. This is not the time to panic or bombard her with questions. She was here to rest, for a visit with her parents and an evening of familiar food and conversation. Not to be assaulted by Alhaitham’s dozens of worries about her safety outside of Sumeru, outside of their house.

“Thank you for apologizing.” Smiling in satisfaction, Kaveh stepped forward to hug Sharzad. “And I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“You were understandably panicked,” Alhaitham said placidly.

Kaveh raised an eyebrow at him. “Panicked or not, it isn’t an excuse to yell at our child. Now come here, azizam, and hug your daughter properly.”

“I already did.”

“You only get to see her once a month.” He gestured with a hand. “Come on.”

Alhaitham considered hesitating, just to tease, but he caught sight of a rather thick-looking vine slowly creeping its way towards his feet and, wisely, decided to join his husband and daughter.

“You raised a troublemaker,” he whispered in Kaveh’s ear. “She just tried to drag me over with a vine.”

“That’s from you, you tease. Don’t think I don’t know you steal my keys for fun.”

“I don’t see the problem—it gets you to come see me for lunch.”

Somewhere between the two of them came the sound of faint, familiar giggles. Sharzad’s body shook with the force of her suppressed laughter.

“Sorry, Papa,” she said, raising her head to look at Alhaitham with round, innocent eyes.

“You’re a menace,” he told her as they parted, staying within arm’s reach but giving each other room to breathe. “With no qualms about creating tripping hazards.”

“She gets it from you,” Kaveh repeated.

“I have never created a tripping hazard, dearest.”

“Your hoard of books says otherwise. Thank Kusanali I had the foresight to include a library in this house, otherwise I’d be tripping over books every time I needed a coffee.”

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that that particular expression would annoy his husband more than any remark would. “Thank me that I built it with your design.”

“You had no other options, you lovesick ass, considering this house was part of an elaborate proposal plan and none of the other plans were as refined or revised.”

“I could have asked them to remove the library.”

Unsurprisingly, Kaveh’s expression shifted from mild amusement to something a little more serious at that comment. “Not without crumbling this building’s structural integrity! Besides, I find it highly unlikely that you would allow your precious books to waste away in storage.”

“Want to bet on it, senior?”

“With pleasure, you preening parrot.”

“Says the man who dresses in bright colors on purpose.”

“I’m mimicking my constellation you bull-headed moron! Perhaps you would have been better off with a mule as your constellation—at least it’d reflect your stubbornness.”

“But then what bird would capture my lovely bird-of-paradise?” Alhaitham asked, before raising Kaveh’s chin with one finger. His husband promptly turned scarlet, the shade darkening as Alhaitham leaned forward to plant a feather-light kiss on the tip of Kaveh’s nose.

“Ugh, you . . .” a groan left Kaveh’s mouth, but he seemed at a loss for words. Alhaitham preened at the fact that he could still fluster his husband with just a kiss.

Instead of giggling, Sharzad outright snorted at them. “You two are sickening.”

“But apparently not as much as a Harbinger,” Alhaitham replied (meanwhile, Kaveh still looked halfway to bursting into flames).

“Well, at least you two got over your pining without my interference. These two . . .” she sighed. “I’m not so sure they’ll manage.”

They stood in silence for a moment, before Kaveh clapped his hands together. “So, dinner?” he asked. “We’ll sit down, and you can tell us all about your adventures. Slowly, so I don’t faint from shock.”

“Want to sit in my lap so I can catch you?” Alhaitham asked with a tiny smirk.

His husband whacked his upper arm once, before sighing and kissing his cheek. “Shut up.”

~~~

The glowing orb of Abyssal energy in the palms of the chained, inverted statue of Barbatos stared down at him like an eye. Purple tendrils peeled off it, casting the entire hall in an eerie light. Thankfully, the Grand Thief’s corpse had been disposed of, but strange bloodstains remained on the stone steps leading to the statue, and the floor around Aether was covered in black goop, the blood of the Abyss Herald and its summoned compatriots.

But that wasn’t why his breath had been stolen from him. It wasn’t why he stood, frozen in place amidst broken corpses and a still-active enemy. A still active enemy that called—that addressed the newcomer as princess.

His sister was there. Lumine was there, her sword imbued with Abyssal power as she ordered the Abyss Herald to stand down, golden eyes glaring in Dainsleif’s direction as she called him her enemy, as she revealed his origins. Why why why was she doing this? Claiming to want to fight destiny itself? Telling him that she wouldn’t leave Teyvat until this mission was fulfilled?

What was she doing?!

What was he doing?

Aether and Paimon had made camp for the night in an abandoned Treasure Hoarder tent, but while his companion had fallen asleep nearly immediately, Aether couldn’t sleep even with how exhausted he was. Dainsleif outright disappeared, following Lumine into that strange portal, while Aether and Paimon were forced to navigate their way out of the old temple on their own.

It was snowing when they emerged, and so they took shelter in the first place they found—that abandoned Treasure Hoarder tent, its faded yellow tarp edged with holes and bite marks. After a short meal, Paimon fell asleep, and Aether decided to head outside to work through his thoughts.

Too much had happened, too much information was revealed to him, and Aether had decisions to make. About his travels, about his companions, about whether to keep going on his journey or not.

He knew what Lumine was doing now, but did that mean he could stay in Liyue and wait? Probably not. A war against the gods themselves sounded immensely destructive, and Lumine seemed . . . out of it, somehow, almost too vicious in the way she spoke. Hadn’t she considered the potential effects of an Abyss-led war against the Archons? The civilian casualties? Aether had seen the destruction in Mondstadt after the attack there, and he knew that if it hadn’t been for the city’s defenders—Sharzad especially—the place would have fallen within minutes. The Abyss was vicious, and Lumine was actively teaming up with some of its creatures?!

Utter and complete insanity.

And speaking of Sharzad, what about her? Could he reasonably keep her as a companion after all of this? With his sister having a vendetta against the gods, and Dainsleif also despising them? Would that be fair to her? Should he let her choose?

(Aether already had a sense that, if given a choice, Sharzad would stay by his side, at least for the time being, and that terrified him. She was his friend. She trusted him. Would he be willing to suffer the loss if she died at the hands of the Abyss or his sister’s plot?)

The depression-flavoured icing on top of this disaster of a cake was how much the sound of his name—his real name—hurt. He hadn’t even realized how much it pained him not to be Aether until his sister called him by his true name. “Helios” and “Selene” used to be their go-to identities when they needed to hide their names, but that always came with staying together, with hanging on to that other identity. Aether had no one to remind him of his true name (except, in theory, Paimon, but she called him “Helios” at all times to make sure she didn’t slip up). Should he change that? Could he change that?

“You must be the stupidest mortal I’ve ever met, camping in this weather.”

Aether’s sword materialized in a flash as he turned to face . . . Xiao. Great, the hot guy was going to see him bawl his eyes out. “Uh . . . hi?”

The adeptus seemed unbothered by the frigid weather despite his clothes revealing quite a lot of his skin. His arms were crossed as he leaned against a tree, the ground around him devoid of footprints, as if he’d just appeared there, naturally looking cool. He hadn’t even been out long enough for snow to land in his hair. “Liyue is dangerous after dark. These mountains even more so. There is strange energy gathering nearby. I came to investigate.”

“It’s–” why was talking so hard? Aether had kept his composure while talking to Paimon, but now . . . was his sister’s change of heart really going to be so painful to talk about? His throat seized, mouth wavering as he tried to keep a neutral visage. “–there’s a corrupted statue of Barbatos in there. That’s what you’re sensing.”

Xiao darted forward in an instant, prowling around Aether with narrowed eyes scanning his body. “A corrupted statue?”

“One of the Statues of the Seven. You know . . .” he trailed off, suddenly wishing it was raining instead of snowing. Maybe it’d help to disguise his tears. His sword vanished as he turned away from the adeptus to hide his stinging eyes. “The Abyss Order is involved.”

Footsteps silent, Xiao walked around to face Aether again. His eyes widened, an odd kind of panic sparking in their yellow depths. “You’re crying,” he said, voice oddly quiet. Then, after hesitating, he added, “What happened?”

“My . . .” Aether swallowed. Be honest, just this once. He already knows you’re crying, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more truthful if you’re going to be stuck here longer. “My sister is also involved. The sister I was looking for.”

“Oh. I am–” were Xiao’s cheeks darker than normal or was that just the lighting (or lack thereof)? “–I know you mortals like apologizing when you receive distressing news. I am sorry.” He seemed to take a breath, taking a little step forward so he stood closer to Aether. His breath fogged slightly in the cold. “To lose one’s comrades is . . . it is a harsh pain, one I understand too well.”

“I’ve felt it before,” Aether admitted, “Just not with her. It’s–it’s always been the two of us, for as long as I can remember.” For a few thousand years by now.

Xiao nodded solemnly. “The strongest bonds are often the most painful to break. Many among the adepti know this too well.”

Aether wanted to bring up what Cloud Retainer told him about Xiao’s other name, about his suffering, and about what he lived through during and after the Archon War. He wanted to ask about this world’s far-reaching past, about the conflicts that crafted mountains and brought down gods like Osial, and the centuries of peace in between.

But he held his tongue, refusing to dredge up old, painful memories that doubtlessly hurt as much as Aether’s fresh emotional wounds. It would do neither of them good, and he wanted Xiao to reveal his past on his own terms—if he ever wished to do so. That wasn’t Aether’s part to share, and he didn’t want to pry that way. Some secrets deserved to stay private.

After an awkward moment of quiet, he noticed Xiao shivered slightly in the cold. So he is affected by it after all.

Taking a hesitant breath, Aether held out a hand. “Do you . . . do you want to shelter for the night? If you’re going to deal with that statue in the morning, you’ll need some rest. And maybe some food, if you adepti need that kind of thing.”

Xiao stared at his hand for a moment, slowly blinking as he considered the proposal. Instead of taking the proffered limb, he slowly nodded. “Okay.”

~~~

The morning two days after her trip to Sumeru dawned cold and clear, fresh snow blanketing every inch of Liyue Harbor available. From her window at the inn, Sharzad could see shopkeepers frantically shovelling snow away from stalls and storefronts, clearing paths for customers. A few even set up fire pits to keep people comfortable while they waited outside.

Aether hadn’t been in the harbor the day before, so Sharzad was gearing up for another day of mild-to-intense training with Nabu and Deshret. That meant dressing for the weather and, of course, wrangling her hair into something not too bothersome—twin braids.

“We’ve scheduled ample time at the Dwelling in the Clouds today,” Nabu told her eagerly. “Since yesterday was more combat oriented, we’ll give your body a rest and focus on your mind instead. And I know you don’t like meditation, but Amun and I hope that actual silence might help to break down the blocks you’ve held for the last few years. That way we can work on dreams.”

“We’ll also be reviewing the geography of the Great Red Sand,” Deshret added. “As it is now and as it was in the past. A few hours should suffice for an introduction, but I don’t intend on combining trade and agriculture with that until your grasp on the environment is sufficient.”

“You just know I hate economics.” Sharzad winced after tugging a little too harshly on her hair. “Admit it, you’re being nice.”

“The desert’s environment is complex.” With a sigh, Deshret crossed his arms. “I am not teaching you something simple.”

“Yeah, but I can tolerate environmental stuff. Besides, at least it’ll be mostly new—I hope, anyway. Unless you spend three hours talking about the composition of sand in different parts of the desert. Then I might fall asleep.”

Deshret scoffed. “That would be a waste of air, if I needed to breathe in the first place.”

“I mean, I automatically know plant names anyway, so that’s fun.”

The Sand King frowned at her. “Take this seriously, Sharzad. You still have vast strides to make before you reach a level worthy of a queen. That includes your . . . magic and your knowledge of your kingdom.”

Well, that was obvious. Sharzad was . . . questionable at a lot of things, and she knew that most of her recent successes were thanks to people underestimating her and sheer luck rather than any kind of skill. Hell, Nabu and Deshret coached her through most of her politics-heavy interactions!

She said that she’d work harder when they first arrived in Liyue, but their attempts had been continuously interrupted after the first week, and she hadn’t been consistent enough to guarantee that any lesson—powers or otherwise—would even stick. Nor had she even considered that she had access to Nabu’s other powers until the goddess brought it up for training purposes. What else was she missing? What hadn’t she considered yet because of how busy she was with quests, commissions, and major historical events?

How much was Deshret going to have to teach her when (and if) she ever took on his full power? His explanation of his powers took an exposition-filled dream that gave her a headache despite the fact that her dream-body wasn’t actually physical. And then there was the information about politics, economics, general queenliness and behavior, protocol . . .

The sheer amount of stuff stacking up, even without knowing everything she’d have to learn— gods, she was in for a long, long education, wasn’t she?

Would the Akademiya give me an extra degree if I wrote a dissertation on that?

Nabu, clearly noticing her mounting distress, offered a warm smile. “We’ll take it one step at a time. I promise you, Sharzad, we’ll do our best not to overwhelm–”

A knock on her door cut off the Goddess of Flowers, who drifted off into silence as a slightly muted but familiar voice filled the air.

“Sharzad? Could we talk?”

Aether. He sounded . . . off. Hoarse and slightly shaky. Immediately concerned, Sharzad went to open the door for him, only to stop and stare at his red-rimmed eyes and dejected expression.

“What . . . what happened?” she asked. “Have you been crying? And where’s Paimon?”

“Right here!” The floating creature flew into Sharzad’s room. “We just got back!”

Sharzad frowned, but allowed her friend to enter the room. She shut the door and locked it for good measure, just to prevent any kind of interruption. An odd sense of foreboding told her that this conversation wasn’t going to be fun.

Aether’s arms hung limply at his side, his head hanging low like he felt guilty about something. To be honest, this was the most pathetic Sharzad had ever seen him—he looked like a kicked puppy.

“I found my sister,” he told her. “Yesterday.”

Oh no. She knew what happened. She remembered what quest he’d just lived through. Poor thing.

“You don’t look happy,” she commented, trying to pretend she didn’t know what the We Will Be Reunited quest line was.

“She’s working with the Abyss Order. Sharzad, she’s leading the Abyss Order.”

For a moment, they stood in silence. For a moment, Sharzad contemplated what to do, what to say, how to act. What could she reasonably do to help? Hear him out? Console him? Offer a chance to spar so he could get his frustrations out?

For a moment, she stood there, and in the next, she walked to Aether’s side, reaching out to draw him into a hug. It wasn’t much, it wasn’t everything she was willing to offer, but it was a beginning, the first step of many.

And it seemed to be enough for Aether, because the second she’d embraced him, he began to tremble, and then completely broke down in her arms.

Notes:

Another week, another chapter, hooray! Now let's talk NOTES

1) An extended Alhaitham POV this week! I admit that I really missed writing the two dads, and it was extremely easy to settle into that rhythm once more. Alhaitham and Kaveh's moments are super fun to write, and I especially love their banter. I DID have to give them some anxiety though, because Sharzad IS an agent of chaos, after all.

2) I did a little research into horns and found out they actually have nerves. I was NOT expecting that, so have that weird knowledge I learned last week

3) We Will be Reunited! I originally wanted to write the scene of the actual quest, but seeing as nothing much would change, I decided instead to talk about the aftermath: how Aether handled the news of his sister's new allegiance and what to do next. One of the things I want to explore with Aether is his confusion and his pain, as well as seeing some growth for him (revealing more details of his past, his true name, etc)

4) Deshret was definitely being nice to Sharzad. Enough said, we'll see more of that later :3

ALSO, if you haven't seen it yet, the Ragnvindr Reconciliation bonus chapter was posted, hooray! I'm going to update the end of Serenade of Winds and Storms to reflect that, but enjoy reading it if you haven't already!

Next week, we'll probably have a timeskip so I can write Lantern Rite and also some cute Zhongchi stuff (and maybe building Xiaoaether but I want them to be a slower burn). Sharzad will be suffering, unfortunately, because even if it's not pride month, it's going to be GAY

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

****HALT**** This is a mandatory rest break for all of you trying to binge your way through this fic. Stretch, drink some water, eat a snack, and GO TO SLEEP if it's past midnight. You have so much time to read through Sharzad's adventure, so take a break and preserve your health and sanity. This fic will be here tomorrow :)

Chapter 20: Interlude: A Lovely (Lantern Rite) Night

QUEST

Divine Duel

Let King Deshret possess you and fight Morax

It was a surprisingly clear morning in late January, and Childe was losing it. And by it, he meant the shreds of sanity that hadn’t spontaneously combusted earlier that day, when a certain funeral parlor director tried to sell him a coffin.

Correction: several coffins and a funeral package because, quote “Zhongli may have an old personality, but I have a feeling he’s going to try to poison you for abandoning him so long.” She then sent him on his way to a valley in the heart of Minlin where, supposedly, Zhongli had gone on an archaeological expedition with Sharzad.

Another massive spike of rock erupted from the ground, confirming that Hu Tao had definitely lied to him.

Because, sure, Zhongli and Sharzad were in Minlin together, but there were no ruins to be seen, no archaeology to be had, unless you counted the several trees that had been uprooted in what appeared to be an intense duel. Childe only caught glimpses of them amidst the ever-changing dust clouds, but there was no hiding the golden antler-like horns that had haunted Childe’s dreams for the past few weeks, nor the flail-like polearm that had once been wielded against him.

The dust broke apart again, giving Childe a glimpse of ungloved hands commanding chunks of cor lapis through the air before Zhongli summoned a glowing polearm to parry something unseen. Sharzad darted out of the dust behind him, snake-like tendrils of sand launching towards Zhongli, ready to latch around unguarded limbs—only for the sand to petrify to stone.

From what he could tell at such a distance, Zhongli was smiling and Sharzad, too, seemed enthusiastic as she waved a hand. The sand engulfed her, and she disappeared.

Curious, Childe tried to get closer, scrambling down the hill he stood on in the hopes that he might be able to better see what was going on. They weren’t angry, clearly, but there were pieces missing, things that didn’t feel right. Like the lack of plants on Sharzad’s end, or how Zhongli seemed a little too enthused about fighting a sixteen-year-old.

What happened over the two weeks I was gone?

And then, as he neared the edge of the scene, the border of what had been touched by this duel, he heard Zhongli chuckle from somewhere inside the chaos of stone spikes, sand, and ruined grass. The sound nearly sent him to his knees.

“. . . lost your touch, old friend.”

“Oh? I am quite handicapped in comparison to you and yet it seems I can match you anyway.”

Childe blinked. That wasn’t the voice of a sixteen-year-old. That was the voice of something ancient, something dangerous. Something born of the sand and sun and desert heat, something that had lived for thousands of years. Something that had authority over more than Childe could possibly comprehend.

The voice of a ruler. The voice of a god. For a moment, he fully believed that, yes, this kid was going to inherit a throne one day soon.

“Besides, Morax, you also seem to be holding back. Haven’t left that suit in a while, have you? I may not have my regalia readily available, but I know you do.” The remnants of a blast of hot, burning wind scorched the air around Childe’s head. “Go on, show me the Morax of my youth.”

“What a request you make of me, Amun.” A moment of silence punctuated by the crumbling of stone. “But very well.”

And then—and then— glowing. Golden light shimmering within their battlefield, veins of gold and cor lapis bursting through stone spires and the ground itself, and the sound of delighted laughter pealing from the glow’s location.

“You are enjoying this far too much,” came Zhongli’s voice. He sounded disapproving, but even from where he stood, Childe could hear the edge of amusement in his tone.

“A reasonable amount, I believe.”

There might have been an answering hum, but it was muffled by the sound of an actual meteorite soaring in from the skies, crashing into the landscape like it was normal. Childe vaguely wondered if the adepti knew this was happening—Minlin was their territory after all. Maybe they did and they didn’t care. Maybe this was a normal occurrence now.

He heard the exchange of blows and muffled sounds of banter from the concealed duel. The ground occasionally shook from tremors more powerful than anything Childe had felt before, outright snapping some of those stone spires in half. Childe scrambled back, operating on instinct alone while the two gods (was it two gods? A god and a . . . half-god? Demi-god?) battled each other.

The duel went on. Childe watched, transfixed, even though he could barely see the combatants or what moves they were pulling. More blasts of heat and even pure light pierced through the dust, punctuated by answering blows of earth and stone. Once, Childe thought he heard a primal roar echo through the landscape, but it was swallowed by the sound of falling rock.

This was a duel for the ages, this was a duel of divine beings, and while Childe wanted nothing more than to jump in, to challenge two beings of divinity to battle him instead, he held back. Not because he was afraid, but because Zhongli was there. Zhongli was fighting. Zhongli was right there and Childe wasn’t about to piss off his dragon-god crush, especially not when the Tsaritsa herself sent him back with a subtle (but quite clear) message to get off your ass and confess to the damned dragon already, my Tartaglia.

The duel went on, but eventually, the noises stopped, the land stood still.

Childe knew from other battlefields that the heaviest moment of all was when the landscape finally fell silent, when pure quiet took over a scene of brutal carnage, and it was no different now, when the spires of rock receded and the dust cleared and the combatants emerged, not unscathed, but still standing.

Hesitant, Childe stood and began walking over, doing his best to look cool and casual and oh sweet Tsaritsa what was Zhongli WEARING?

His usual suit had been completely replaced. A hooded, white cloak covered his head of dark hair, and he wore earth-colored pants so loose they looked like a skirt at first glance. But his torso? His torso? Bare. Completely bare. Oh, and just the sight of it sent Childe into a tailspin because WHAT–

A set of abs so absolutely perfect they had to be sculpted by the gods themselves. Glorious golden markings extending from his clavicles and across his arms and chest, rippling faintly in the sunlight, as if little fireflies were trapped within those elegant lines. His arms (what wasn’t covered in markings) were lined with dragon scales, slowly turning from pale skin to scaled fingers the same chocolatey brown of the Exuvia. More scales dotted his chest as well.

Worst (or perhaps best) of all, there were several bleeding wounds on his body, leaking blood that wasn’t red, but golden. Dried ichor matted parts of his hair from where his temple had been struck, while some still flowed from a slash on his chest. His arm, too, was bleeding, gold beading at his clawed fingertips, where droplets fell to the ground, sprouting tiny gemstones in their wake.

Childe was dead. He was dead and had ascended to Celestia. Or perhaps that was just all his blood leaving his brain to rush downwards because oh gods why why why whywhywhywhywhy–

“Well fought, old friend,” Zhongli told Sharzad, a pleased smile lighting up his features. “While I wish we had more time and space to truly settle this one, I suppose a draw shall work for now.”

Sharzad, too, seemed mostly unscathed, her elegant but practical clothing having clearly protected her from the worst blows. But there was a gash in her leg staining part of the purple fabric crimson, and he could see dark spots on the fabric of one of her arms, and on what parts of her back he could see.

“Prideful as always, Morax.”

A low chuckle. “As are you, Amun. Will you relinquish the body soon?”

Despite being mentally incapacitated and also used to strange happenings, still found enough fragments of consciousness to finally realize that it wasn’t Sharzad talking, but that one god who used to be Zhongli’s friend. Who was Zhongli’s friend.

“Perhaps, though I would like to greet our little observer before I do.”

Zhongli’s head snapped sideways, eyes widening the second they landed on Childe. He seemed almost . . . embarrassed to see him, though given the state of his outfit (hot) Childe wondered if it was because Zhongli didn’t feel proper right now. Something brown and tipped with fur behind him flicked nervously. Childe nearly fainted at the realization that Zhongli had a tail.

“Childe . . .” he breathed.

Meanwhile, Sharzad, too, fixed her gaze on Childe. Almost prowling forward, she neared him, before circling him once, then twice. She seemed more imperious than she had any time previously, and Childe got the sense that he was being harshly judged for something.

“You sought him out. Good. Though you are late, Harbinger. I should have thought that Sharzad’s bribe would have been enough to get you to talk.”

“A bribe?” Zhongli echoed. He sounded disappointed.

“Only a duel, nothing more.”

“It is a contract nonetheless.” Frowning, Zhongli crossed his arms. “One you no doubt made recklessly, knowing your unfortunate history.”

Amun spread his (her? It sounded like a female voice but Childe was pretty sure Amun was male) arms in a placating kind of gesture. “It was a mere promise, meant to help you two boneheads communicate.”

“I–ah.”

“Figured it out, have you?” Amun returned to Zhongli’s side, only to drag him over to Childe. Once they’d stopped, he patted Zhongli’s shoulder with a wry smile. “He is a fine warrior. Good luck.”

And Sharzad’s body promptly collapsed.

Out of reflex, Childe lunged forward to catch the falling girl. Her heavy weight settled on his arms only for a moment, before Sharzad jolted awake again.

“Motherfucker.” She mumbled, voice mercifully returned to normal. “You really didn’t go easy, did you?” A pause, and then– “Bullshit.”

“You swear an awful lot for a sixteen-year-old,” Childe commented.

Sharzad cracked open one golden eye and immediately leapt to her feet. “A god just took over my body for thirty minutes and subjected me to a grueling duel. I think I’m perfectly allowed to swear, you dunce.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, I have to go heal and talk to Cloud Retainer about fixing my clothes and Lantern Rite. You two start talking and I’d better see you two together at the fireworks in a few days or there will be dire consequences. Got it?”

Instead of waiting for an answer, she sighed, seemingly tapped something in front of her, and vanished.

“I–” Childe blinked. “What?!”

“Hmm.” Zhongli stroked his chin thoughtfully (wait, he also had tiny scales dotting his face, and sets of them lining his eyes, oh no). “I was certainly not expecting teleportation, though I suppose it may be because she is not thinking straight.”

“You exhausted her.”

“The duel was part of our contract, for the sake of old times. As is a part she wishes to fulfill after the Lantern Rite, once she has sufficiently prepared.” When Zhongli smiled at him, Childe felt his heart combust, or perhaps snap in two. Again. “You appear well, Childe. I am glad to see you have recovered so quickly.”

“You . . . I . . .” Childe hesitated. “The Snezhnayan air sure works wonders.”

“Ah. Do you have a new mission?”

The fleeting pained look in Zhongli’s amber eyes seemed to ask is this a goodbye?

“I have been indefinitely stationed in Liyue.” Nervously playing with the end of his glove, Childe swallowed. “So, I was wondering . . . about your suggestion when I woke up in Bubu Pharmacy . . . were you being—well, not to say that I don’t trust you, but—were you being honest? About waiting for me?”

Zhongli didn’t hesitate to nod. “Even after my mind crumbles from Erosion, I will wait for you.”

The earnest way he said this forced Childe to cover his face to hide his blush. “I—you—you can’t just say stuff like that!”

His—his dumb dragon god of a crush had the audacity to look surprised, eyes wide in genuine, almost innocent confusion. “Why not? I am simply being honest.”

“That’s—it’s—you sound like you’re in a romance novel my sister would read! And I can’t–” he swallowed, turning away from Zhongli in the hopes of regaining control of his thoughts. “–you also look so hot right now, and it’s throwing me off.” He laughed nervously, hanging his head. “It’s pathetic.”

There was a moment of silence. Childe wondered what Zhongli was thinking, if he was reconsidering his proposition from that day he gave Childe his Gnosis, if he was considering leaving right now to save both of them the embarrassment.

“Pathetic? I believed you might be terrified of my hybrid form.” The noise Zhongli produced was half pleased chuckle, half some kind of churring noise. “To think you would admire me like this, in spite of my wounds brings me great happiness, Childe.”

He felt a clawed hand curl around his forearm, pulling one of his hands away from his face. Despite the sharpness Childe could feel through his clothes, Zhongli was impossibly gentle as he adjusted Childe’s stance so he could actually make eye contact with the dragon god.

“I have missed our outings dearly,” he said after a moment, a small, fond smile lighting up his features when their eyes met. “And considered allowing you to drag me to more martial events. As I do not need to conceal my true identity from you, I do not see why we cannot battle each other or the monsters roaming the countryside of my nation.”

That was more exciting than anything else Childe had considered. “Really?!” Childe coughed into his fist after his outburst, trying to regain his composure. “I’ve also missed our trips, Zhongli- xiangsheng.”

“Then would you permit me to treat you to dinner at Liuli Pavilion? I wish to hear of your recent exploits in Snezhnaya.”

Childe shrugged, scoffing. “Pshhh, there isn’t much to talk about.” Smiling, he added, “But I'd love to.”

~~~

The day of the Lantern Rite dawned cool and clear, the sun shining upon Liyue in a blessing of good fortune. Aether found himself denied commissions from the Adventurers’ Guild, as today was meant to be a celebration (meaning no commissions would be sent out unless they were extremely urgent).

So, he joined Sharzad on a short trip outside the city to get away from the throng crowding the capital of the Land of Geo. Breathing air not clogged by the smell of horse dung and headache-inducing (albeit delicious) food relaxed him more than he had the entire morning. In fact, Aether almost collapsed on a nearby stone with how calm he suddenly felt.

“It’s so quiet out here!” Paimon said. “Paimon thought her ears were going to burst from all the different noises in the city.”

Sharzad smiled mischievously, fingers twitching like she already had her System pulled up. “I can fix that.”

“What? Are you going to summon that weird music again?”

“Only if you want to.”

Since Paimon didn’t want that, they sat in silence instead. It was nice out here, surrounded by the sounds and smells of nature rather than the city. Aether knew they were waiting for an opportunity to catch a ship bound for Inazuma, but even still, he felt restless. He'd taken on commission after commission in recent weeks, helped out old and new friends in Mondstadt and Liyue in the hopes of keeping himself busy. The list of people he knew had grown exponentially, encompassing Archons like Venti to a young swordsmaster named Xingqiu. Even Xiao allowed him to deal with some adeptus impersonator a week earlier!

Unfortunately for Aether, the quite handsome adeptus was nowhere to be found, which was a shame. What little conversation they did make was enlightening, and Aether wanted to get Xiao to open up a little more. Wanted to hear what little nuggets of wisdom he was willing to give. The adeptus wasn’t perfect by any accounts, but Aether sensed that his presence was helping Xiao to open up. Maybe, anyway—that was the kind of information he’d have to ask Cloud Retainer for.

“Yeah, thanks for the day off,” Sharzad said aloud. She paused, no doubt listening to one of her gods speak, before clicking her tongue. “I’m good with review tomorrow.”

Aether grimaced at the reminder of her training schedule. Lately, it seemed like two thirds of her days were dedicated to training in all forms. There were days when she looked exhausted in the mornings, and Aether would soon discover that it was a Dream Lesson Night™, meaning she spent the night learning in her dreams.

Oh, and training also included more meetings with Ningguang for what Sharzad called “practical application.” While Aether was deeply uncomfortable with the idea of his, ahem, sixteen-year-old friend dabbling in politics, he couldn’t exactly fault her when said politics secured them a deal to ride to Inazuma in three weeks’ time on a ship captained by Ningguang’s wife. Who was a pirate.

Sharzad’s reaction? “Thank the gods! The lesbians actually have their shit together.”

(Said, of course, after they’d left the Jade Chamber behind. She’d been kind and polite during their meeting, sipping her tea and speaking with an elegance that rarely appeared when the setting was more relaxed. Aether guessed her gods were coaching her or something, because he’d noticed her fingers oddly twitching several times over the course of their meeting)

Clearly, Zhongli and Childe’s situation frustrated her to no end. A situation Aether only knew about after Sharzad spent a whole half hour venting to him over dinner.

“Do you think we’ll meet your friend when we go to Inazuma?” Paimon asked.

“Yoimiya? I hope so.” Sharzad sighed. “The last time I saw her in person was two years ago. I can’t imagine how much she’s changed by now.”

“Haven’t you, too?”

Shrugging, Sharzad huffed a laugh that sounded more dejected than amused. “I guess. Although it really doesn’t feel like it, sometimes. Didn’t really change my habits or anything until I got to Mondstadt.” A pause, and then– “Yes, I know I wasn’t your heir yet, but I should have still started earlier, Deshret. We have a lot of ground to cover before leaving for Inazuma, and I don’t want to get caught off guard if the Raiden Shogun decides to kill me on sight.”

The Raiden Shogun. The Electro Archon. Zhongli briefly told Aether about her after the Rite of Parting concluded, especially when it came to her taking Visions from her people to ensure her principle of Eternity, however one could even do such a thing. Aether couldn’t imagine it working at all.

“Why? Because of your gods?”

Sharzad nodded at Paimon’s question. “Taking the legacy of previous deities, no matter how consensual the exchange was would no doubt make me an enemy of her Eternity.”

“You said the same thing about Rex Lapis though, and everything turned out fine!”

“Yeah, cause Deshret, Nabu, and him are old buddies. That’s not the case with the Shogun as far as I know. And it doesn’t help that my whole divine magnet thing will likely piss her off further.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Sharzad huffed another laugh, this one more self-deprecating than anything else. “Unless I keep training, I’m dead meat.”

~~~

The Lantern Rite was in full swing. Music and laughter filled the air, along with the clashing (but appetising) mix of smells coming from the various food carts that popped up over the last week. Zhongli watched a small group of giggling children race past the funeral parlor with an amused smile on his face that only grew wider after hearing that they were searching for kites from the other district of the city.

Golden light shone down from the lanterns strung across the streets, slowly replacing the sinking sun as it disappeared behind the mountains to the west. Banners and other decorations, many in shades of crimson, covered the area in that lucky color, often with motifs related to Rex Lapis and the adepti. The ever-present scent of the sea had faded to a mere hint of brine amidst the abundance of cloves and peppers and ginger, and if Zhongli paid enough attention, he could smell faint traces of smoke from test fireworks and sparklers.

Somewhere at a nearby teahouse, a storyteller accompanied by string instruments and drums was beginning a performance, the exact words muffled by merchants hawking wares and civilian chatter but the steady rhythm preserved despite the lack of clarity. In his corner of the city, Zhongli watched and waited, doing his best to stay patient as he waited for Childe.

The Lantern Rite was meant to be a festive occasion, and for the first time in centuries, Zhongli truly felt like he was looking forward to celebrating it the mortal way, among the mortals, rather than withdrawing to the mountains for a short reunion with his adepti. Perhaps they would celebrate without him this year, or perhaps Xiao might finally allow himself a chance to walk amongst mortals rather than hiding away.

That poor boy always needed more company—he was much too lonely. Too traumatised from past events that were almost entirely Morax’s fault and too frightened of hurting others to allow himself to open up. Perhaps things would change this year, and if they didn’t, perhaps Morax should approach him to offer advice.

“Zhongli! There you are!”

Childe’s excited voice pierced through the ambient noise as he pushed through the crowded street. Zhongli prepared to warmly greet the orange-haired man, only for the words to disappear when he saw Childe trip over his own feet and nearly launch himself from the throng of people.

Out of instinct, Zhongli lunged forward, catching the Harbinger (all flailing arms and adorably panicked expression as he floundered to regain his balance) in his embrace.

“Hello, Childe,” he said, voice brimming with amusement as his poor date scrambled to stand straight again. “I see the crowd caught you off guard.”

“Pshhh, I’m a Harbinger! You could never catch me off guard!”

Zhongli tilted his head, eyes narrowing. Was that a challenge? Perhaps he should treat it as a challenge. Catch him off guard by the end of the night? That would be simple, no?

So busy he was thinking about the potential challenge that it took Zhongli at least a minute to realize that Childe wasn’t wearing his usual garments. While the overall silhouette was similar, he’d swapped out the small pieces of armor and military uniform-like clothes for a simpler, but not less elegant, pair of grey trousers with a slightly lighter colored shirt (with the top two buttons undone to expose sinfully porcelain skin). He’d kept his usual boots but replaced his ornamental scarf with a similarly crimson, albeit simpler one wrapped around his neck. Silver earrings gleamed in the lantern light, as did the Vision still attached to his belt, and for once, his red mask was absent from his fluffy hair.

Adorable? Perhaps. Handsome? Indeed.

Childe had the audacity to smirk at him. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You look wonderful.” Gorgeous. Perfect. Zhongli just wanted to sink his teeth into that exposed part of his neck to show that he was his his his–

Despite his earlier confidence, Childe avoided his gaze, hands fidgeting like he had extra energy to burn. “And you’re consistent as ever–” a pause, and then, slightly faster, he added, “–not that it’s a bad thing since that suit looks amazing on you, but–” reaching out, he grabbed Zhongli’s wrist. “–never mind. I saw some food I’ve never seen before and I need you to tell me about it. Please.”

Zhongli smiled in amusement and let himself get dragged off.

They wandered the Harbor for an hour or two, eating whatever food caught Childe’s fancy and stopping to admire the various goods available for sale. Seeing nothing of particular interest, Zhongli declined Childe’s offer to buy him an elegant hairpin supposedly decorated with cor lapis to the Harbinger’s disappointment, only for that disappointment to turn to amusement when Zhongli later admitted that the “cor lapis” was nothing more than chunks of stained glass not worth his time.

“Thanks for saving my wallet.”

As the time for fireworks drew closer, Zhongli and Childe collected their lanterns before leaving the main part of the city for its outskirts, where they could get a good view without being suffocated by the crowd. Somewhere below, Zhongli knew Hu Tao and Xinyan were performing some Liyuean fusion music, and he could sense at the edge of his perception that Xiao had, miraculously, come to see the events from the very peak of Mount Tianheng, accompanied by that blond traveler, Helios. Deshret, Nabu, and Sharzad, he knew, were in the crowded city.

He and Childe settled together in a patch of grass, the bright lights of the harbor illuminating them more than the stars and moon did. Zhongli smiled as Childe looked on, eyes wide in wonder at the brightness and beauty. The fireworks would no doubt start in a few minutes.

“Have you enjoyed your first Lantern Rite?” he asked.

Childe startled, as if he hadn’t expected Zhongli to speak, but when he turned to look at him, his usually dull eyes gleamed with the sparks of life and excitement. “Yeah. Thanks for taking me out.”

“Not literally, I hope.”

“I think I’d thank you for that too, honestly.” Childe hummed. “Say, am I ever going to get to fight you? I’d like to test my strength against a real god.”

“I do not wish to hurt you, Childe,” Zhongli said after a moment’s pause, just to breathe and settle his beating heart. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time, not since Guizhong was alive to draw his gaze in every waking moment, but the time felt right to tell Childe about the finer points of his nature. “But there is a tradition among dragons, something many of us used to judge those who were worthy. One dragon would challenge another, and if they were deemed strong enough to defend one’s territory, then it would be a sign for courtship.”

Childe’s eyes widened in horror. “You mean—Zhongli, have I been proposing to you this whole time without me knowing?!”

“Nothing of the sort, I promise you.” Slowly, Zhongli peeled off his gloves, leaving them in the grass as he grasped Childe’s hands. They felt warm, the calluses of years of combat training evident at a single touch. “There are many steps to dragon courtship, and they vary based on various cultural factors. But while you were not proposing, you certainly were declaring your intentions. Quite loudly, might I add.”

A groan escaped Childe’s mouth. “I’m an idiot.”

“If it alleviates your discomfort, I believed you kept rejecting my invitations out of Snezhnayan tradition,” Zhongli offered. “Where women traditionally reject offers of courtship to test the honesty and determination of their prospective husbands.”

That prompted several snickers. “I’m not a woman, Zhongli.”

“I am aware.” He cleared his throat. “My apologies if this offends you—I am used to courtship that knows no gender roles. Or, at least, courtship where no gender must act a particular way.”

“It wasn’t offensive, just funny.” Childe smiled at him. “So you thought I was in a relationship with you the whole time?”

“I believed you wanted one. It seems our feelings were misinterpreted.”

“Hmm.” In the harbor, the lights began getting brighter, a sign that lanterns were being lit in preparation to send them to the sky. “To be honest, I’m not really good at that kind of stuff. Telling what people feel, I mean,” he added at Zhongli’s confused glance. He stared at their joined hands. “I fell into the Abyss when I was fourteen, and when I came out . . . I don’t know, I couldn’t really understand people the way I used to before. If I really could before. The Abyss . . . it changes people, but you probably know that, being an Archon and everything.”

“Retired.”

“Still,” Childe insisted. “It’s why I like people being direct, because otherwise I really can’t tell if they feel anything special about me. When you’re surrounded by monsters for such a long time, you always have to wonder what people really mean.”

Direct. He wanted direct?

Zhongli squeezed Childe’s hand. Adjusting himself so he could make eye contact with him, Zhongli took another calming breath. “You wish for me to be direct?” Childe nodded. Slowly, delicately, Zhongli repositioned his hands, bringing the Harbinger’s hand to his face so he could gently nuzzle his palm. “I do not know if there are words perfect enough to describe my feelings for you, but I can say without a doubt that I have only felt these for another person, a goddess gone before we could ever settle down. And while I believed that I would spend the rest of my life in solitude, the day I met you proved that those thoughts were perhaps the most foolish ones I have ever had.” He squeezed Childe’s hand again. “You are kind, Childe, and you possess a sense of compassion that anyone would lose had they gone through what you have. Your wit, your eagerness to hear this old dragon speak, your ferocity in battle, and your beauty have enchanted me beyond measure. When I saw you at the Golden House, fighting someone slowly awakening the powers of a god, I hesitated to interrupt you, if only to see your full glory in battle for a moment longer.” Reverently, he moved Childe’s hand so he could kiss his palm. “In the year I have known you, you have managed to haunt my every waking thought, and I wish to court you, to know you on a deeper level, and perhaps, one day, to wed you.”

Childe stared at him, mouth dropped open. Perhaps his cheeks were aflame, or perhaps that was the glow of the lantern-light and the fireworks that began exploding from just outside Liyue Harbor.

Had that been too much? Perhaps. Cloud Retainer might call him dramatic, but Zhongli didn’t care. He’d been thinking about how he might tell Childe he adored him for over a year, and while he didn’t want to go overboard so fast (it was why he hadn’t mentioned the word “love,” because once upon a time, Guizhong saying it had sent him running for the hills), Zhongli could only show so much restraint. He’d waited long enough to say these things.

“Ajax,” Childe said after a moment. “That’s my real name, and I—you know what?”

Zhongli wasn’t expecting it in the slightest, but Childe— Ajax— shifted, dragging his hand (and Zhongli) towards him. His other hand reached for Zhongli’s collar and pulled, crashing their lips together. He could taste sugar on the other’s lips, the remains of tanghulu eaten thirty minutes earlier, and feel the shape of a giddy smile pressed against him.

They parted when the need for air became too strong. Zhongli became incredibly aware that Ajax somehow pulled him into his lap. He leaned back to get a better look at the Harbinger’s tousled hair, and, most importantly, how his eyes were shining now, as if little stars of happiness had made their home in their Abyssal depths.

“Ajax,” he breathed, mind numb with overwhelming emotion.

“I— hmm.” Ajax didn’t grimace, but his hands rose towards his face. “Oh gods I wasn’t ready for how good that sounds.” His hands froze, one of them reaching forward to poke Zhongli in the chest. “You need to stop being so hot. I swear, when I fight you, that’s what’s going to bring me to my knees, and not your other archon stuff.”

When I fight you. When. “Does this mean you believe me, Ajax?”

Zhongli received another kiss in response. After withdrawing again, Ajax winked at him. “What do you think?”

Notes:

Okay I am so sorry about how long this took but in my defense I literally wrote the last 2000 words today sooooooo

1) It was surprisingly difficult to write the duel scene because I wasn't sure whose point of view I wanted, but I eventually settled on Childe so I could have him gay panic at Morax's hybrid form/true outfit. The outfit, btw, is inspired by the Statues of the Seven, and the bleeding ichor is my own headcanon. I also loved the concept of Nabu's blood turning to springs, so I gave Morax a similar concept, where his blood turns to precious gemstones

2) Aether's POV was originally going to have some Xiao shenanigans, but I decided against it. Since Inazuma is going to have mostly Sharzad POVs, I want to get a few more glimpses into Aether's mentality before we get to the next arc. Also, we get some fun foreshadowing about how they're getting to Inazuma, meaning the next fic will probably open ON the Crux fleet. Fun!

3) The Lantern Rite happening is a fusion of the OG one and the first one I played, which was the one in 3.4, so you have Xiao and Aether having some moments and also Hu Tao's rap

4) I may or may not have come up with the idea for a bonus fic with a title like "the # steps of dragon courtship" that may or may not happen in the future. Maybe I'll write and release for one of the two's birthdays, who knows? But I want to explore Zhongli's dragonhood a little more, and their relationship

5) The title for this chapter is taken from the song "A Lovely Night" from the Rodgers & Hammerstein Cinderella musical

How did you guys like that lore drop from Wednesday? I completely lost it and have to rewrite Sharzad's story AGAIN, so updates for that won't be coming for a little bit unfortunately. Other than that, nothing much. I'll update some tags on this fic and hopefully there's only one more chapter until Inazuma, where we'll be getting some Sharzad and Yoimiya shenanigans, more training arcs, and some other fun goodies to set up the future (I'm also probably rewriting part of Inazuma's plotline, which will be fun!)

Hope you enjoyed, as always! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general, check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

Chapter 21: Interlude: A Promise Kept and A Promise Made

QUEST

A Promise Kept

Fulfill your contract with Morax by fighting him on your own

Dear Sharzad,

If you’re reading this it means Captain Beidou successfully smuggled my Lantern Rite fireworks out of Inazuma. Unfortunately, the Sakoku Decree hasn’t been lifted (and I’m starting to doubt it ever will be), so I’m sorry if this got your hopes up. Although, knowing you, you’ve kept an eye on the news coming from Inazuma this whole time.

You won’t be able to send a letter back, but I figured I might as well let you know how things are going here, if I even know what’s really going on. Ayaka (you remember her, I hope) has been hinting that the leaflets and posters going out about maintaining tradition and staying safe are really propaganda by the Tenryou Commission to force us all to report our friends and neighbors if they break the law by smuggling goods or hiding our Visions or doing all sorts of normal things that are illegal now. Even going to the Yashiro Commission earned me some sour looks, and I was just going to plan fireworks for some festivals! Festivals the Shogunate approves of!

I think the Tenryou Commission is trying to enforce order at all costs, because the Almighty Raiden Shogun wants Inazuma to become a true land of Eternity—no matter if it harms her citizens or not. Anyone who doesn’t abide by Narukami Island tradition is suppressed, as are new ideas and concepts for everything from forging techniques to garden planning. There’s a civil war going on in the West and basically all the islands between Narukami and Watatsumi have been taken over by the Shogun’s army and the Watatsumi Army. Messages are few and far between, and I only know some stuff because of rumors carried by deserters and former soldiers who have been too injured to continue fighting. Any refugees from the fighting are kept under strict guard in camps built under Inazuma City, so the Tenryou Commission clearly doesn’t want any information about the fighting getting out.

I’m not above asking for help by any means, but Sharzad, despite what I’m saying, DO NOT come to Inazuma. Please. It’s too dangerous for you, especially with your ▉▉▉▉▉▉ situation. Send help another way if you can, but DON’T GO TO INAZUMA.

 Your friend,

Yoimiya

~~~

Light flared and dozens of vines burst outward as Sharzad clenched the paper in a death grip. Don’t go? Don’t go?!

The situation in Inazuma was so much worse than she’d ever imagined, and Yoimiya was begging her to stay away? After all that?! Refugee camps under strict guard? Propaganda of the worst kind? Military action and encouraging citizens to report friends and family? And she wasn’t supposed to come and help?!

For all she joked about stabbing people, Sharzad rarely felt truly violent, but right now she wanted nothing more than to destabilize Inazuma’s entire political system and punch its Archon square in the–

“Whoa, kid, calm down!” A hand slapped down on her shoulder, only to immediately withdraw. Its owner hissed out in pain.

Ningguang’s voice rang out, worry just barely tainting its controlled tone. “Beidou, are you alright?”

“Nothing I haven’t felt before, lǎopó.” The dark-haired pirate bent down so she could see Sharzad’s face. “You’re burning, kid. Is that normal?”

“Breathe,” Nabu reminded her, voice soft and worried despite the clear signs of her outrage covering her body (aka furious shaking, several new eyeballs, and several thorn-covered plants sprouting from her clothes and crowning her horns). The familiar tones of her voice helped Sharzad relax. “You cannot do anything to control this if you hold your breath.”

Sharzad forced herself to straighten her spine, carefully setting the letter on a nearby table. She inhaled slowly several times before answering in as calm a tone as she could manage. “No. My apologies for scaring you with that outburst.” At a snap of her fingers, the vines she’d created—thick, dried things meant to ensnare and choke—instantly crumbled to dust, while the sunbeams still streaming from the ceiling began to fade at an excruciatingly sluggish pace. Even with all of her recent training, Sharzad had yet to properly hone her control over sunlight. “It’s uncouth.”

Beidou casually waved a hand. “No harm done. Yoimiya’s a good friend of yours, isn’t she? Seems like whatever’s in that letter pissed you off quite a bit.”

“It would anger anyone reasonable,” Deshret all but snarled. His wings and talons were out, casting dark, twisted shadows only Sharzad could see. “To do this to her own people . . . the Electro Archon shall pay!”

“It would anger anyone reasonable,” Sharzad echoed, doing her best to keep her powers under control as she spoke.

It seemed that honing her abilities and beginning the painstaking removal of the blocks on the powers from Nabu came with a certain . . . issue. Now that her powers were, as Nabu put it, slowly becoming extensions of her own self, they became increasingly volatile, taking any suggestion, however small, as a chance to escape her body and explode outward. Even now, she felt the energy thrumming under her skin, like pins-and-needles without the associated numbness, or an itch determined to be scratched. It wanted to be used, to be unleashed, to be wielded against the source of her anger.

The Raiden Shogun isn’t in Liyue, she told herself. She’s a five day journey away and in a secure building away from everything and everyone. You can’t do anything to her right now.

“Trust me, I’m aware,” Beidou replied, a wry smile on her face. Her blue tasseled earring gleamed as she moved her head. “The Sakoku Decree pissed off a lot of people, and most of ‘em merchants. Some good people, of course, but you know how those people are. Mora first.”

“Beidou,” Ningguang said in a scolding, disappointed tone.

“I’m only being honest, I swear. Not a dig at you.” The pirate held her hands up in surrender for a moment, before turning her attention back to Sharzad. “We’ve got a few more errands to run in different ports, so it’s gotta be a couple of weeks before the trip over. Besides, with the storm barrier’s volatility, it’s better to wait longer so the Electro Archon lets down her guard a little. Makes the crossing easier, even if it’s not all that smoother.”

Sharzad nodded. “Noted. Thank you so much, Captain Beidou.”

~~~

The plains of Minlin had recovered from the duel between Deshret and Zhongli a month earlier, save for the large scars leftover from the loss of grass and uprooting of trees. With February’s end came a decrease in snowfall, and so most of the ground was either mud or dried grass these days. Sharzad sensed that the snow from earlier that morning would likely be the last of the year.

“It’s wonderful to see you so happy. I haven’t seen that particular look in your eyes in centuries.”

Zhongli smiled, not sheepish but definitely slightly embarrassed given the slight shift in his posture. Not even two steps away, Childe stood, clearly itching to get back to cuddling his new boyfriend or whatever they’d been doing before the appointed time of this meeting.

(The relationship was a wonderful and long overdue development in Sharzad’s book.)

Unfortunately for Childe, Zhongli had something important to do, that something being a certain duel Sharzad had been dreading for the past fortnight. She’d trained non-stop, even enlisting Aether so she could have an opponent to practice on. Did she win against him? Only when her full power was unleashed, but repeating that experiment a few more times resulted in quite a lot of nausea, and so Sharzad was quite certain this duel would end quickly, too.

She couldn’t predict Zhongli’s moves like with Childe, nor was she aware of the full extent of his power. Whatever the adepti told her about him were recollections centuries after the events had been witnessed—and as a graduate of Vahumana, Sharzad knew that historical accounts written even just a year or two after an event could severely warp a person’s perception of said event. The adepti were probably no different. So whatever Zhongli planned to throw at her, her only point of reference was Deshret’s duel with him a month earlier, and that had been a considerably different situation.

“We are slowly rebuilding the trust between us,” Zhongli told the Goddess of Flowers. His eyes gleamed in the sunlight, his joy obvious to anyone with functional eyeballs. “But yes, Nabu, I am definitely happier than I have been in . . . quite some time. Your presence, and Amun’s, have certainly aided this, too.”

“And your retirement, I’ll guess?” Sharzad asked, doing her best to keep her lips from twitching into an amused smile. Even years after initially playing the Liyue Archon Quest, she still found the whole faking his death plan kind of stupid and overdramatic, but she certainly wasn’t going to laugh about it in Zhongli’s face.

“Hmm. Perhaps.” Some strange, pleased animalistic noise leapt from Zhongli’s throat as Childe linked their hands together. He hummed pleasantly. “Hmm. You’ll have to step back, bǎobèi. I do not want you to be caught in the crossfire of this duel.”

“You’re assuming it’ll last long enough for that to happen.” Sharzad blinked at Childe. “Also, why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be doing Harbinger stuff?”

Childe waved his free hand. “Got that done already. I’m here to watch, and to take notes. Both for when we fight next time and when I finally get to teach you stuff, which you promised me weeks ago. I want to see if you could actually handle it.”

“I fought you weeks ago and I handled it just fine.”

“I was going easy on you.”

“Lies,” Deshret hissed. “I hope you’re aware of that, Morax. He nearly killed himself.”

Zhongli’s eyes narrowed.

“I highly doubt you were going easy, Childe.” Noticing the air around her had heated a little too much for comfort, Sharzad breathed out and turned to Zhongli. “So? Shall we start sometime soon?”

Nodding, Zhongli gently tapped Childe’s arm to get some space (the Harbinger moved away immediately, walking off to sit on a nearby rock). The Lord of Geo pulled off his gloves, exposing his sharp fingernails as he tucked the garments in one of his pockets. His other hand flexed once, before the air around him gleamed like there was a disturbance in the very fabric of reality. There materialized the true Vortex Vanquisher in all its glory. Zhongli let it hang casually at his side, grip lax despite the implications of him, a god, drawing his weapon.

“Okay, starting now,” Sharzad mumbled. Raising her voice, she tilted her head at Zhongli. “Is there a particular weapon you want me to use?”

She’d honestly be more comfortable with the speed and adaptability a sword offered her, but the benefits of a polearm might prevent her from getting injured. Not to mention, Zhongli probably expected her to fight like Deshret taught her, right?

“Use whatever is most comfortable. This is simply meant to be a friendly spar, nothing more.”

“Your sword,” Deshret said once his friend finished. “It is instinct for you at this point.”

“You won’t be helping her, I trust,” Zhongli said.

“Of course not. I am no cheat.”

Despite how her heart sank at Deshret’s admission (I’m not going to survive even a minute of this, she thought), Sharzad nodded her approval. Like a liar. “Alright.” Light of Foliar Incision appeared in her hand, and she spun the blade once (more for show than anything else). “Bright it on, Morax.”

~~~

Aether restlessly kicked his legs as he watched Sharzad charge at Zhongli. The branch he sat on swayed lightly with the movement, sending what little remained of that morning’s snow sprinkling downwards. He was far enough that he couldn’t hear the words being exchanged between the pair, but he could easily see Sharzad summon a whole tree to try and stall Morax, and that was the moment he wished he had popcorn. Did Teyvat even have popcorn?

Paimon floated nearby, eyes wide as she watched the fight go down. The poor thing had been concerned about this duel since Sharzad initially mentioned it, and now that it was finally happening, she was biting her fingernails out of nervousness. “Oh, Paimon’s too scared about this. What if Sharzad gets hurt?” 

“She’ll heal.”

Meanwhile, Sharzad jumped back several metres as pillars of rock erupted from where she stood.

“What?! You are too calm about this, Helios! Sharzad is over there, fighting a god, and you’re just fine with this?! Are you crazy?!”

The mention of his fake name made his heart seize. It had been doing that ever since his impromptu (and failed) reunion with Lumine, especially since every moment brought him dangerously closer to telling Sharzad his true name. Just to feel good about himself and his identity. Just to feel like himself again.

He’d even considered telling Tubby, the little teapot spirit inhabiting the magical teapot Madame Ping gifted him (after he ran about thirty different errands to craft it, of course), to call him by his real name, only to decide against it at the last minute. So even in the place he was meant to call his home (however temporary it may be), Aether was still Helios, and that was utterly depressing.

Maybe I should tell her sometime soon.

“She’ll be fine,” he said aloud.

Cue Zhongli choosing a meteorite and Sharzad’s scream of . . . was that rage? Panic? Fear? He couldn’t tell from so far away. Whatever it was, she screamed non-stop as she sprinted away from the impact, escaping the projectile just in time.

Aether winced. “Okay, maybe not for long, but she’ll be fine.”

“That was a giant rock! We have to stop them!”

“They made a deal, and if that’s what the Wrath of the Rock is, I don’t want to be subjected to it.”

“Then she’s not going to be fine? Helios!”

“She’ll survive.”

The tree shook slightly as an added weight materialized on a nearby branch. “Not if he’s aiming to kill.”

Aether snapped to attention, turning on his branch to look at Xiao, who leaned against the tree trunk with all the hotness of a fictional bad boy. He absent-mindedly wondered if that ridiculously tight, white shirt was because of comfort or to make his torso look better. If it was the latter, it was working.

(The biceps didn’t help either, being honest, especially since Aether knew they weren’t just for show)

“Gah!” Paimon flew straight at Xiao’s face. “You really have to stop appearing out of nowhere!”

Heh, Paimon didn’t know the half of it, but Aether wasn’t about to lose his occasional private meetings with the adeptus because he blabbed about them to Paimon.

Aether did his best to look cool, offering a short, casual wave. “Hey Xiao.”

“Greetings.” Progress! Xiao actually greeted him! “Why is Morax fighting that—Her Highness?”

“They’re fulfilling a contract. So I don’t think he’s aiming to kill.”

Several tendrils of sand shot towards Zhongli, only for the god to petrify them with the flick of a finger. Chunks of newly formed rock broke off those snake-like constructs and flew directly at Sharzad, who was dodging like her life depended on it.

“Are you certain? He seems quite eager to do damage.”

“I think she can handle it.”

“I do not—ah, she has landed a blow. Perhaps she can.”

The blow was not with her sword. It was dealt with by a very thick vine that grabbed Zhongli by the ankle and yanked him backwards fast enough to send the usually stoic (and inhumanly elegant) man faceplanting to the ground.

Aether did his best not to laugh at the sight, only to almost immediately fail and burst out into full-blown cackling. Bending forward, he clutched the branch with one hand to keep from falling off and his side with the other.

Xiao frowned at him. “I don’t understand what’s so funny.”

“You don’t— ahahaha— he just–” Trying and failing to construct a full sentence, all Aether could do was wheeze. “Falling like–like— ahahahahaha–”

As he took another wheezing breath, Aether watched Xiao look questioningly at Paimon. The pixie shrugged, before saying, “He’s been weird about almost everything in the last month, including the teapot Madame Ping gave him. Paimon doesn’t understand why he’s like this, but maybe it’s just his personality.”

Ooooh, Aether hoped that wouldn’t discourage Xiao from remaining his friend. What if weirdness wasn’t a thing he was into? Maybe he should actually try to flirt to compensate?

“Shouldn’t you be worried about your friend?” Xiao frowned at Aether, seemingly deeply insulted by the idea of not properly respecting one’s friends and allies.

After taking a moment to recover, Aether waved a hand. “I usually am, but I trust Zhongli, y’know? He knows her limits better than I do, being a god and all. I don’t know what Sharzad is, exactly, but she definitely fits into that territory as a . . . godling? Demigod?” He shrugged. “Whatever word you’d use. I’m not used to this stuff.”

Perhaps he’d understand what Sharzad’s limits were if he was familiar with the gods of this world and how they worked, but Aether’s knowledge was severely lacking. To make things worse, when he tried to make sense of things, the adeptus came into play, so Aether gave up on trying to use logic on the divine beings of this world. It didn’t seem to work on any kind of normal scale.

Maybe Aether just simply didn’t understand, but he wasn’t about to figure out why, not when there were more important things to worry about. Like finding Lumine. Like regaining the rest of his powers. Finding his own sword. And the spaceship.

His mood dampened immediately at the thought, smile fading into a sad frown.

Gods, he missed flying. He missed space. He missed the familiar grip of his sword and the sound of Lumine teasing him. He missed the hum of the engines as they powered on, the musical chime of his hibernation chamber as it activated. He missed the feeling of waking up in a new land, surrounded by flora and fauna and people he didn’t know. He missed adventure the way it used to be.

Would it ever be the same?

A pair of fingers gently grazed his arm, drawing his attention out of his head. Xiao hesitantly withdrew, clearly uncomfortable with touching Aether despite being the one to initiate the contact. He’d moved next to Aether, sitting close enough to touch if he reached his arm but not close enough to brush shoulders.

“I’m okay,” Aether said softly, in a whisper too quiet for Paimon to hear.

Xiao looked like he didn’t believe it, but he didn’t pry. He only sat next to Aether, leaving a few inches of space between them as they watched the last few moments of the duel.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t a meteorite that took Sharzad out, but a powerful shield that sent her flying back several meters. Seconds later, Paimon launched herself in their friend’s direction, clearly concerned beyond belief about Sharzad’s health and safety.

“He went easy on her,” Xiao commented.

“Only a little bit, I think. She’ll know, too.”

“Perhaps. But Morax was—is a good teacher. Perhaps she learned something from this.”

“Did he teach you?” Aether asked before he could stop himself.

The adeptus next to him sat in silence for a long, long moment. He took a breath, almost as if to steel himself. “Only a little bit. Lady Guizhong, his–” Xiao cleared his throat. “–an old friend, taught me more than he has about life beyond the battlefield. Her lessons are beginning to prove fruitful.”

“It’s impressive that you remember them. I’d have forgotten after a few thousand years.”

Sometimes, the only things he held on to were muscle memory, and even that faded after a time.

“Perhaps,” Xiao said again. “Tell me—when are you leaving Liyue?”

“Two weeks or so. Why?”

For a moment, Xiao seemed to hesitate. “If you seek an outlet, or a chance to test your battle prowess, seek me out. I still have evil to cleanse and you . . . you can actually withstand its effects. It’s nice to . . . have an ally to fight alongside once more.”

It took all of Aether’s self-restraint not to jump for joy at the offer. Yes! Progress! While it didn’t obliterate his earlier spiral into depression, it certainly helped, and Aether did his best to show some enthusiasm at the prospect.

“Sure.”

~~~

“I think I broke half my bones.”

Sharzad’s breath came out as a wheeze, her lungs still struggling after the sheer force with which she hit the ground. Most of her body was sore in one way or another, but she was pretty sure her right leg was broken, along with a few ribs, based on the stabbing pain she could feel. It would be truly debilitating if she hadn’t broken several bones in the last few months alone.

The grass she lay in was horribly wet with half-melted snow, and the ground squelched as she cautiously shifted her hands. One of her arms flared with pain, and she groaned again.

Deshret and Nabu cautiously approached her, expressions twisted with concern, but upon seeing that she was still breathing, both settled into more relaxed moods. After all, they both knew that Sharzad would recover with the System’s help, so there was no need to panic (Cloud Retainer would certainly react differently, but she wasn’t there, so everything was fine).

“Don’t be so dramatic, Sharzad. Half of your bones are in your hands and feet, and those seem quite intact.”

“And you can heal easily!” Nabu added. “Think positive!”

Sharzad groaned again as she opened the System, searching for food. A glimpse of her current HP bar showed that she’d lost about two thirds of her health. Her left arm—the one that wasn’t (probably) broken—shook from the effort of raising it, but did her best to push through.

“I’m positive that if I removed my femur from my leg, it would be snapped in half.”

“How morbid.”

Huffing from the effort of moving her left arm (which was now starting to burn despite her initial thoughts that it was fine), Sharzad raised an eyebrow. Ugh, why did that also hurt? It’s an eyebrow. “You talk as if you haven’t seen a snapped femur before.”

“You haven’t seen a snapped femur before.”

“That’s what you think.”

She hadn’t. She didn’t want to, either. What she wanted was two servings of Pita Pockets so that the agony of cracked bones and the burning of torn muscles would cease. And when the weight of the food settled in her stomach (accompanied by a burst of flavour in her mouth) and her flaring pain faded to the vaguest hint of a dull ache, she sighed in relief. She’d have to make more Pita Pockets, but that wouldn’t take too long.

Childe loomed over her, a massive grin on his face. He held out a hand to help her up. “That move you pulled with the tree was awesome. Why didn’t you do that with me?”

“Didn’t want to destroy the Golden House’s flooring.” Taking the proffered hand, Sharzad climbed to her feet, swaying uneasily for a few moments. Healing automatically didn’t remove the temporary loss of function brought by broken bones and torn muscles. “Also, you’re not a god capable of shielding yourself from a tree. I think I broke a Treasure Hoarder’s arm the last time I did that to a human.”

“I’m a Harbinger. I think you can break that rule.”

“I’ll break your arms.”

“I’ll heal.” Childe pouted like a five-year-old begging for ice cream. “Come oooon, it’ll be fun. You’re fighting me anyway, so why not throw in a tree?”

Deshret sighed in exasperation, hands massaging his temples. “Morax, come grab your lover before he gets himself killed by his own recklessness!”

The Lord of Geo, who had been walking over anyway, first turned to Sharzad. He wore a pleased smile, and his amber eyes sparkled as he gazed at Deshret and Nabu. “Your efforts have begun bearing fruit. All of yours,” he added, glancing at Sharzad. “I will admit that, while not particularly difficult, you were certainly a worthwhile opponent. Had I not been an Archon with millennia of experience, I would have walked away with serious injuries. Perhaps in a few years, you will even be able to defeat me, but that will depend on your dedication.”

Not particularly difficult. Such a comment would have been insulting had it not come from Morax of all people. So, hey, if he was acknowledging her progress, Sharzad was going to take the compliment and the advice for what they were.

“The plan is to push forward,” Sharzad said. “As far as I can without, you know, dying.”

“That would be quite the impediment, particularly considering your past.”

After shuddering in horror (half-honest, half-jokingly), Sharzad nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been in enough coffins for a lifetime. I’m being careful to keep that from happening but, you know, there are boundaries I will always need to push through. That’s where my training and these guys–” she gestured at Nabu and Deshret. “–come in.”

She knew full well that hard work would be the only way to push through her current issues, to build up her stamina and test theories about Nabu’s powers in the hopes of fully tapping into them. The Goddess of Flowers had many other titles, each with (apparently) their own accompanying power sets, and Sharzad intended on gaining them all one day. Not to mention learning how to rule the desert, building up her allies, and perhaps one day (though hopefully not too soon), taking on Deshret’s full power.

The strength of two gods, hard work training, and new deals with other deities were non-negotiable terms, especially if she wanted to guarantee the successful defeat of the Heavenly Principles. That was that. Simple in theory, but now she had to apply those methods to the real world.

The System seemed to agree.

NEW QUEST SERIES

Forge Your Strength, Envoy of Gods

Notes:

The end of Bolero of Stones and Dragons is here!!! I have some notes about this chapter and then some announcements about the Inazuma arc, so on we go!

1) Wijiv mentioned in a comment two chapters ago that Yoimiya smuggled fireworks over for Lantern Rite and suggested that she might have sent a letter. Since it fit so well into the narrative, I decided to include it, so thank you for the idea, Wijiv

2) Beidou and Ningguang together for a scene, hooray! Beidou literally calls Ningguang lǎopó, which directly means "wife" in Mandarin Chinese but has use in daily life

3) The bonus chapter with Childe and Zhongli fixing/rebuilding their trust and starting their relationship is slowly tempting me into making it a reality. I definitely want to show more of them rebuilding their relationship, so hopefully that'll happen in the next few months

4) About Aether getting his teapot: there's a lot of quests (story or world quests) that I don't want to cover since their stories will likely be the same/very close to the same as the in game story, so I don't see the point in rewriting them. So just imagine Aether did those quests on his own while Sharzad was training lol

5) I wanted to create a Quest Series for Sharzad, and so it's finally happened. I have ideas for some of the quest names that might appear during the Inazuma Arc, so that's fun!

Now, other announcements: I have to take a hiatus next week because of a family reunion. Since I have to travel to a different province, I won't have the time to really write the start of Inazuma's arc because I have to prefilm several short videos for next week (and I research all of them). I'll post the opening in two weeks' time, I promise! The Inazuma arc is the first to really deviate from the original, if only because I'm going to emphasize the civil war and propaganda aspects of things. There will be several themes pulled from history and current events interwoven with Sharzad's efforts to truly train herself and strengthen her connection to her powers.

I don't, however, have a name for it yet, so I'm open to suggestions! I'm sticking to the dance/piece of music theme for the first word, but I'm missing ideas, so by all means, give me yours (if you're willing, of course!)!

Hope you enjoyed, as always, and I'll see you in the next one! Comments and Kudos are appreciated, and if you want to pester me about this fic or life in general, check out my Tumblr @anxiousphantom0

****HALT**** This is a mandatory rest break for all of you trying to binge your way through this fic. Stretch, drink some water, eat a snack, and GO TO SLEEP if it's past midnight. You have so much time to read through Sharzad's adventure, so take a break and preserve your health and sanity. This fic will be here tomorrow :)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Suite of Stars and Shadows