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For a big family like Childe’s, a birthday means you get to be that special case if only for one day.
They might not be too well off, but his parents always make sure that each child feels special when it comes to celebrating the day they were born. The birthday kid would be congratulated first, before they are taken to either activity that they love - either going out to town with his mother or to go ice-fishing with his father. There will be cake, made from scratch by his mother’s calloused hands and definitely the specialty stew that his father is really good at making for dinner.
They sing ‘happy birthday’ for the birthday kid and a present would be given; usually handmade ones, but they are all made with love and full with the thoughts of making the birthday kid happy.
Which is why Ajax is particularly giddy when it comes to his birthday.
He had always wanted to explore the woods by the lake where they go for ice-fishing, seeing the wildlife living at least at its edges. Especially that white fox who had captured his attention a few weeks before with its soft fur and beady red eyes. Who had looked at him for a few precious seconds before it leapt and disappeared into the depth of the woods.
His curiosity burnt when it happened.
When he expresses his intent to his father, he had hesitated on allowing his venture into the woods. “There are beasts in that place, especially if you go too deep,” his father has reasoned, “...I would rather have you not wander into the woods, it is most dangerous, Ajax...”
But he insists - persists in his wish to be able to explore the woods if only in the outer perimeter.
His father sighs and gives him his permission.
“Your brother will accompany you, but remember Ajax, promise me this: you are not to venture deeper than necessary and you are not to be separated with your brother”
“I’ll pinkie promise!” he declares proudly, raising his pinkie to his father who chuckles at that proud exclamation.
There’s a smirk on his father’s face when a bigger hand is offered to him, a bigger pinkie twining with his own, “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, promising with this~” his father teases and he nods furiously.
“You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. 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.”
The song has been taught to him since childhood; a way to ingrain how important a promise is and how he must never betray those he has promised to.
And so the promise is spoken.
When the day comes, he wakes up to his little brother on his lap and his mother’s sweet voice singing him happy birthday. Their breakfast is modest, but he can have two small blocks of butter instead of one and an extra cookie after he finishes up his meal. After that, his older siblings carry him around the house, pretending they are his servant for the day as he giggles and orders them with simple tasks such as ‘bring me this book’ or ‘bring me that toy’ while they're calling him with 'Little Prince'.
What he couldn’t wait for is the afternoon, when he can finally enter the woods with his big brother holding his hand.
As expected, the woods are a big mass of trees and bushes; a bit dark even in broad daylight, but it only adds to the attractive mystery it exudes. Ajax might be timid, but this? This excites him more than frightens him. He drags his brother here and there, to a berry bushes, startling a group of squirrels, before he decides to gather flowers to gift his family with.
It's an excuse, of course, he can inch deeper - not that deep just a little further in - if he can convince his brother how happy everyone will be for the gift. And his big brother is quite compliant, letting him wander a bit as he claims to have seen some pretty flowers there.
That. Is. A. Mistake .
They find him three days later, eyes as blank as the clear sky, muddled with fog of...something they can't quite place their hands on. He's so quiet that his mother has cried then and there, crumbling right in front of him as he is brought into her warm embrace.
Then, he opens his mouth, an exhausted smile touches the corner of his lips, "Mom...do I have to cut off my pinkie and let my tongue freeze?"
Liyue is warm.
That was his first thought upon arriving at the harbor, wearing two shirts at once. He noticed the change halfway through the voyage, feeling the sun bullying him to take off at least one layer before he arrived at Liyue. So he peeled his outer coat off and sighs at the sea breeze.
Arriving at where his mission actually takes place does not make the temperature any better, in fact, summer breeze washes over the town as he jogs to his destination. With it, comes the dry and humid air; sweltering and drenching him with sweat.
It is the reason why he takes off his outer shirt, honest! Especially when he is asked to wait under the scorching sun. He admires how Liyue people shrugs this kind of temperature off - Snezhnaya is heavenly cold when compared to this heat.
"I apologize for making you wait long, master Childe," he hears the woman says as she returns from the back room, her footsteps echoing across the receptionist room, "...this is mister Zhongli and he's going to accompany you during your stay here in Liyue" she steps aside and his eyes catch sight of his 'escort'.
…
Childe wishes he could take off his last shirt because the room seems to grow hotter.
Zhongli is a polite man with a pretty smile and Archons, how many layers is he wearing ? It suits him, yes, giving him the impression of an elegant gentleman, but no ordinary person can stand under the burning sun on this day in particular without at least one less layer than they usually wear. The funeral consultant - he is startled too by this revelation of Zhongli’s occupation - might be wearing three layers at minimum and five at maximum that just looking at him is already soaking him with sweat.
But there Zhongli is, regards him with a polite smile as he recites the historical tale of Liyue as if he was a witness to how it was unfolding. It gives him a lot of insight, not to mention hyping his hope up of finally meeting Rex Lapis and possibly having a fight with the Geo Archon.
So he spends his days with the consultant, hearing more and more past tales and historical events coming out from Zhongli's lips. When he is free, he spends those days researching through what he heard. It's amazing how accurate Zhongli is with his knowledge that when he next addresses the consultant, "Zhongli sensei" has come out from his mouth instead of the usual, 'Mister Zhongli'.
And the consultant merely blinks at that before continuing on without any pause.
How nonchalant the man goes, free of burden even when most of the time, he seems to somehow survive without having any mora in his person.
It’s both admirable and puzzling as no one has ever pointed it out; not a single seller has ever protested about Zhongli going around buying items without even spending a single mora straightaway. Even the harshest merchant yields to his words and reasoning, amenable to what Zhongli wants to purchase.
So he steps in, if only to help the Funeral Parlor from piling up more debts on their bills.
The first time he does, Zhongli stares at him with this amusement playing in his eyes, followed by appreciation then a grateful nod. The second time he pulls out his wallet for that pretty trinket the consultant is eyeing, he gets a little twitch of a smile, which - to his surprise himself - urges him to try and draw that gesture out again. The third time, Zhongli looks at him with an appreciative smile, thanking him with his deep, smooth voice.
The fourth time, Zhongli finally speaks, “While I am grateful for your help, Childe, you do not need to pay for every expense I spend” the consultant says, placing a hand over the bag of mora he has pulled out.
He shakes his head and grins, “Don’t worry about that, let’s just say, you’ve paid me with all that knowledge that you have about Liyue’s history and culture as well as being a good companion while I’m staying in Liyue, okay?” and he drops the payment on the counter. The content thud into the wooden table; enough to buy at least two of the items Zhongli refers to.
His escort is quiet after his declaration, though those eyes seem fixated on his person from then on - amusement and admiration dances on those golden yellow glimmers.
After that, Zhongli never questions his help.
There’s a letter for him, delivered straight to him by one of the staff from the bank during lunch. He looks at the envelope and smiles at the sight of the scrawl at the top left, signed by most of his siblings.
Across from him, Zhongli seems interested with the letter in his hand; the one that his family has sent him in an envelope colored in soft blue. There’s a crude drawing of seashells from Teucer’s hands on its front and a cute sticker that he knows Tonia would definitely buy when she takes a stroll in the town. He opens them, gently prying the sticker open without ripping the fragile plastic and paper.
Inside is a letter - filled with drawings and chicken scrawls of his younger siblings and the neat correction the older ones tried to salvage the letter with. There are messages from each of his siblings and one from his parents.
They all are saying the same thing...
“Oh...” he chuckles, “...I forgot already since I’ve been so busy...”
At the opposite seat, Zhongli cocks his head to the side, silently inquiring for an answer. Childe grins widely, proudly , as he shows the consultant the first page of the letter which is filled with Teucer’s drawing of what might be a cake and candles, “Today is my birthday,” he says, “...see, Teucer and Tonia made me drawings while my older siblings and parents wrote a lot of ‘happy birthday’ messages and advices for me to take care of myself more, sheesh, they never change...”
The consultant studies the letter, a thoughtful “Hmmm...” murmurs out of his mouth before he casts his gaze to Childe - his eyes softer, somehow, “I never expected you to be this close to your family...”
“Hey, I’ll have you know I always send them gifts on each of their birthdays and go home whenever I can” he feigns a pout.
The laughter he gets from Zhongli’s mouth sounds like the ringing of a bell - beautiful and melodic.
He wants to hear that again…
“It is unexpected, true, but also welcomed. You’ve been surprising me since the day we met, Childe, by now I shouldn’t have been startled by anything you reveal more about yourself,” the consultant says, contemplative, “...but I am most grateful that you are comfortable enough with divulging to me of who you are. It is pleasing to know more about you”
Beneath his chest, his heart does a little flip. Something that he questions himself of its meaning, before dismissing it as his instinct catching onto something before concluding it as no threat. He laughs at Zhonglis’s remark and says, “You flatter me, sensei, but I am really just a humble Harbinger on a mission”
They have their lunch in a tranquil silence afterward.
When it’s time to pay, the consultant suddenly plucks out a little box out of his coat pocket, before placing it down on the wooden surface and gives it a little push to his side of the table. He eyes the box in confusion and flicks a questioning gaze at his companion. Zhongli nods, “A gift for you,” he says, “...oh, and also...”
The brunette rises up from his seat, approaching him in two steps before taking his hand gently and bringing it up to his face. He is about to ask what he is on about when he feels a soft plush pressed against the spot where his glove meets skin. Gentle brushes of lips as gold eyes - almost like molten honey - staring straight at him between his eyelashes, “I apologize for the rather shallow gift, I had hoped to give you this later once we get even more intimate, but alas, I have nothing but these to show you how delighted I am for your birth,” another flip, he swallows audibly, “...next year, I will come prepared to celebrate your birthday”
He doesn’t know whether he will still be here next year or not, since Tsaritsa never specified about the length of his mission. It could be a year, it could be a month; yet despite this, he has a slight little whisper of hope in his heart. A part of him that he thought had diminished into nothingness coming alive with the promise that seems to be spoken so confidently.
Childe doesn’t really hope he would be here next year, but if by chance he is, he would like to spend that with this calming presence beside him.
“I’ll hold you to that promise, sensei~” Childe says with a grin and for the first time, he is excited at the prospect of celebrating his birthday.
Zhongli firmly nods, finalizing the promise, “Yes, you may...” the consultant replies, determination and promise flickering in his eyes.
Zhongli is Rex Lapis.
These words are not spoken, merely implied
He points at the consultant, inviting him to a spar if Zhongli truly wants to apologize. That he will not tolerate should the now-former Archon try to hold back on unleashing his full strength. “Fight me seriously, Rex Lapis, ” he says - is his voice shaky, is he trembling? - a knife made out of water is raised against the prime adeptus, “...or is that what you really think of me? Not someone worthy of your consideration? Just a pawn in the game of contracts between you and other Archons?”
Childe knows he’s being petty; he knows the risk of being a harbinger in the service of Tsaritsa.
But it hurts somewhere. And he doesn’t know where exactly. So he proposes what he does best - let his strength do the talking, let the fight consume him until nothing else comes to mind but the need to grow stronger, to seek an even greater opponent and challenge them.
Zhongli stiffens at his provocation, their eyes meet - briefly, so briefly he can’t read what lies beyond that brilliant gold - before he nods his acceptance.
They fight.
Out in the open field, away from the town so as to not hurt the civilians who all are still recovering from the disaster he has unleashed.
A spectacle of Geo and Hydro bursts underneath the clear sky of Liyue. The ground beneath his feet shakes as its very foundation is manipulated with a simple flick of a wrist and each nonchalant step from the former Geo Archon. Losing his Gnosis apparently does not lessen what power that Rex Lapis holds within his mortal flesh.
He enjoys it, this waltz of blood and blade - how it pushes him to his limit until his hand shakily reaches for the mask hanging on his head, ready to channel the Delusion. This movement is quickly noticed and with a scarily accurate throw of a spear, it snatches the mask, steals it from its perch and into somewhere he would have to find later.
A look of disbelief passes his eyes, his mouth opens for a protest when the god leaps into his private space, those eyes set only on him. His instinct screams at him to move and he does, really, his limbs are moving. But the other is faster, and a rough grasp takes ahold of his shoulder before he is pushed to the ground in one fluent move. His back slams onto the soil, knocking the breath out of him in a sharp gasp.
There Zhongli is, pinning him to the ground - an unreadable look settles on his face (of worry, of anger, of fear )
His protests die in his throat, caught.
A pair of lips descends to his, slotting too perfectly with his own.
And he reciprocates just as fiercely, between the loud thrums beneath his chest and the buzz in his head.
Until it is quiet, until the silence engulfs him whole for him to listen to the quiet sobs of a god for a mortal.
“Sensei, how does it feel to live forever?”
Zhongli stiffens beside him. There is no change whatsoever to his expression; the pull of his lips stay into that neutral line and his eyes are staring ahead. Not at the view before them, but ahead, beyond, somewhere he couldn’t reach.
“It’s lonely...” he eventually says and Childe’s smile grows bitter.
The way he speaks it is so...heavy. As if Zhongli has accepted that fact: that he will stay while everyone else dies.
“Do you celebrate your birthday too, then?”
Zhongli hums quietly, his gaze still fixated on that unseen horizon, “No, I have never found it as a necessity. It is simply a human’s custom”
“But aren’t you a mortal now?” he nudges the former archon with an elbow.
A smile, genuine and soft tugs at the other’s lips, “I suppose I am...”
Childe takes the other’s hands on his, snatches them from the railing as he holds them with both of his pair, “Then let’s celebrate your birthday from now on! We will eat and drink and have a good non-stop spars until you forget everything else!”
Zhongli blinks owlishly at him, seemingly caught off guard by his declaration. Then, slowly, gently, like a feather landing on the ground, his smile blooms, “That sounds acceptable” he replies.
“I want to spend the rest of your birthday with you, Childe...”
Those are his exact words that he wakes up to the next morning after the small party they held privately, followed by Zhongli dragging him to their room. The rest can be proven by his sore hips. Their previous night’s activity had been exhaustive, but Childe immediately shoots up from the pillow - before he groans in pain as Zhongli gently massages his behind apologetically. He can definitely feel his cheeks heating up as Childe finally opens his mouth and asks, “What do you mean by that, sensei?”
A gentle caress is given to his hip, the touch is almost contemplative as he receives his answer, “It is exactly as I said, Ajax : I want to spend the rest of your birthday with you. Didn’t you offer to accompany me on my birthday for the rest of your life?” he squeezes the dip, and, oh, he shouldn’t be this sensitive, “... this is my answer”
He has two seconds to process those words in his jumbled mind before Zhongli pushes him back to bed.
…
They didn't come out from their room for the rest of their day.
When Ajax says that the Tsaritsa will call him back in half a year's time, Zhongli has stopped whatever he’s currently doing to pick the Harbinger up and brings him to his home without any spoken reason. Upon arriving, he places him on the bed like he's the most precious and fragile treasure he has, kisses his hand and asks him softly:
“Would you build a family with me here?”
Ajax’s lips fall open, a blush spreads across his cheeks rapidly like wildfire.
The question has caught him off guard, especially how Zhongli has voiced it. As if the former Archon doesn’t doubt that they could, that Ajax could carry a child within him. He remembers his own family; his siblings, their antics. Even when it’s been so long since he visits them, the constant letters they exchange have told him enough though it does not quell the longing to return home one day.
And Zhongli has proposed to create a second home for him here, by the former Archon’s side. Not as a replacement, but as an addition, to make his family bigger.
He takes a deep breath and let the smirk curves his lips, “One fight, Zhongli,” he proposes, “...defeat me and I’ll be yours”
...
A few months later, his family grows.
A few months after, Ajax leaves.
There was an explosion outside, snapping him awake and sober in seconds. His hand grappled for the faithful spear by his side; always readily available if anyone dares to ambush him during his rest. With one leap, he vaulted over the open window and landed gracefully on the gravel path below - his head turning left and right to try and find the source of such catastrophic sounds.
A giggle welcomed him instead, airy and familiar, as a gentle touch patted him on the shoulder.
He flinched and glared at the unwelcome intrusion, frowning when he saw the joyful face of Guizhong.
“Silly Morax, always so stiff and vigilant, aren’t you?” she teased, grinning toothily at his unamused face.
“That is not a laughing matter,” he grunted, searching still for the cause of that loud sound, “...what happened? What was that explosion?”
Guizhong’s grin seemed to widen instead of dispersing. One of her hands was raised, pointing upward to the night sky above them. Watch, she seemed to ask him and he abode, despite his reluctance. He followed her direction, staring intently if there really is an ambush from above. His spear was clutched tight in his hands; the golden tipped imbued with Geo glowing dimly.
He heard a muffled pop somewhere as an orb of light was flung to the sky, creating a line of light and a faint hiss. It looked too bright - a lone trail heading to heaven. It slowed when it reached a certain height before it seemed to curl and exploded outward, creating a beautiful shape that is similar to a blooming flower that illuminates the dark sky in pure white, followed by the loud sound he heard before he was drawn out of his home.
It was beautiful, he admitted; he never knew that ‘light’ can be used in shapes like that, projected into the sky like the endless dark blue expanse is some sort of canvas. It repeated, the muffled pop and more of the hissing, followed by the eruption of sparkles of light and form.
The sight captured his attention as he stared unblinkingly at each, marvelling at the display of beauty.
“Pretty, aren’t they?” Guizhong said, her face lit up from the ‘flowers’ in the sky.
He nodded, though not without his own worry of this commotion they made, “On what occasion did those humans suddenly create such...ostentatious display that will surely attract enemies?”
Beside him, Guizhong snorted, “Morax,” she sounded offended as she smacked him, “...they are celebrating someone’s birthday, of course, they are allowed to have a little fun. I just gave them a little idea, that’s all~”
Birthday? All of those for celebrating someone’s birthday?
“Seems like a waste...”
Guizhong smacked him on his back again, crossing her arms together when he glared at her in return, “Birthdays are important, Morax, especially to humans! Let this be a lesson,” she returned her gaze back to the sky, a wistful look passed across her glimmering honey brown eyes, “...mortals have limited lives unlike gods and goddesses. They cherish and celebrate each year of their birth so they may remember how far they have come and appreciate the life they’ve been given to live. It makes them feel...truly alive”
The light continued to bloom in the night sky, congratulating whoever that had been born today.
“I don’t understand that...” he muttered as he watched a yellow colored light burst into sparkles, “...but this display is indeed beautiful...”
A silvery laugh, a gentle touch to his arm as Guizhong took a hold of him and started dragging him to the small town center; where people had gathered to watch the spectacle together. Where the Adepti had gathered as well, drinking and feasting, or simply observing the crowds. They took the seat among the people - who were quick to recognize them and allowed them strategic spots to watch comfortably. As he stared at the sky, contemplating the words that Guizhong has explained, she murmured quietly to him, clear even between the crowds’ excited cheer,
“One day, maybe, you will understand, Morax, but for now, enjoy my masterpiece. I dub it ‘fireworks’!”
It was supposed to be a celebration for the coming year; the day after Guizhong found him, sculpted from the very earth itself. They were supposed to be celebrating today as his very own birthday; a festival tailored to please him.
Yet he was cradling a lifeless body of a goddess in his arms, his eyes blazing in unbridled fury as rains of stone spears pierced through the earth, killing everything that he directed his hatred on.
They are at fault, they should die .
Merciless, cruel, and heartless; many had called him with these words after they witnessed the destruction on the plain of Guili. There had never been another ambush afterwards, the fear had been imprinted to their foes and his presence as the constant protector of Liyue - the city he had founded with Guizhong - was enough threat for anyone who had even the slightest intent of hurting his town.
He looked at the remnant of what they had prepared for him, at the decoration that Guizhong had sewn herself.
Morax looked at what’s left of what once was a hubbub of many merchants and traders - destroyed by the combined effort of their foes and his outburst.
He took Guizhong’s body and left the destruction.
One by one, the gods and goddesses of Liyue grew mad.
Except him.
He, who was created from the steady, never changing earth is their only constant. The one that Liyue looks up to; the only god that they chose to protect them.
And as he grew older, as centuries passed and seasons changed, he forgot about time altogether. Everything is a blur, a constant cycle of duty and responsibilities. Morax is fine with that.
After all these are the humans that Guizhong died for.
Under his hands, Liyue is shaped.
Under his protection, Liyue thrives
Until that day, at the end of the year, as he strolls across the town he has built from scratch, he hears those words.
Will his duty ever end?
Thus Zhongli was born and Morax was fated to die.
Then...
...
...he met Childe.
The war starts without any fanfare or warning.
His Liyue is safe, far from where the epicenter of the chaos begins, spiraling out of control as Celestia bears down into the land they bless with forceful judgement. Snezhnaya leads the charge from Tevyat; the Tsaritsa and the Abyssal royal - or what’s left of Khaenri’ah civilisation - take arms together, the seven Gnosis they managed to gather shining brightly. This time as opposition to Heaven.
He knows where his Ajax is. Among the god-like foes, wielding his power beautifully as he dances across the battlefield in a bloody tango of macabre and destruction. The battlefield would be filled with strong foes, he knows this, Celestia never holds back to squish any threats who question their authority.
Morax would definitely wield his spear alongside Ajax. His desire to protect would win against his obligation to his duty. After all, Morax was not tied to Liyue, not yet.
Zhongli is the pitiful man that could only wait as his mate storms through the battlefield. Unable to raise his arms alongside him as his shoulders are burdened with an invisible responsibility that he thought had freed him.
The midsummer sun shines brightly above his beloved city when he takes his son’s arm and takes a stroll alongside the port. People are busy, as they usually do, merchants never rest after all. War or peace there will always be people on the other side of Tevyat who need items from this side of the world. This exchange of goods never stops.
After this, he plans to visit Liuli for dinner with his child, in honor of the mother’s birthday. When near midnight strikes, he would release the Homing Seelie to send his regards to Ajax. A Seelie wouldn’t be caught as easily as birds so it is a perfect message bearer for anyone in the battlefield. He had to request the Hydro Archon for this particular Seelie, an excellent tracker especially for those who bear a Hydro Vision. It had memorized Ajax's signature element built, it wouldn't get his message to the wrong receiver.
Along the way he tells stories to his son, of how his mother arrives in Liyue and the time they spend together. He watches the child’s blue eyes tinted with his gold, staring straight into the horizon as he ends the tale with how his heroic mother is now fighting for a future that even he can’t fathom. He watches the glimmer in his eyes, the admiration he harbors for his dearest mother as he smiles wide and tells him about how he will wait until his mother returns victoriously.
He merely smiles in return, hopeful for the future that the child envisions; wishing that Ajax is here to see his son being proud of his mother.
As the sun starts to set and the humid weather turns slightly colder, he leads his child back to the town proper, ready for their reservation in Liuli when a tap on his shoulder turns his gaze.
It’s Xiao.
He kneels before him, bows his head low until his forehead kisses the ground.
“Xiao, there is no need to--”
“Master Zhongli...I offer you my humble apology...”
A box is offered to him, crafted with simple decoration of flowers and seashells - a gift he has given to Ajax’s family before. He takes it reverently, opens it with a flick of his fingers and blinks at the content.
There is a dim Hydro Vision and an earring made out of Cor Lapis resting within its confinement.
A letter innocently rests underneath them.
He closes the box and takes a deep breath.
“I see...” he murmurs.
Xiao doesn’t dare to meet his eyes, guilt wracking his visage as he shakily stands back up, not knowing what to do. With a gentle hand, he ruffles the Yaksha’s head, “Thank you for delivering these items to me, Xiao” he says as steadily as he could be when his heart of stone slowly cracks beneath his chest.
“I--”
“It’s not your fault. Childe is a Harbinger, his duty is with the Tsaritsa and yours to me. He knew the risk, he went on fully knowing the threat and possibility of his demise,” the words sound like a drone in his buzzing ears, his breath is starting to grow heavy - too shallow, “...you did your best shadowing him, I’m glad you returned to me alive and well”
There are many words that Xiao wants to speak; they are written quite clearly across his face. But the Yaksha clams up, bites down on his lip before he nods and leaves with the next breeze.
He lifts his son up with one hand, buries his face to his child’s shoulder and whispers quietly, shakily , “Are you ready for dinner, sweetheart?”
Again, it is midsummer; a date he remembers far too well.
The pot on the stove has started to boil and he quickly turns off the flame, stirring the inside with the confidence of a professional cooker. It smells amazing, he smiles to himself proudly as he takes the bowl from the cabinet and pours a hearty serving into its recess. That should be perfectly cooked; the fresh red from the octopus and the thick reddish brown stock where it bathes in.
He places down the soup spoon on an empty bowl before he places the lid back on top of the pot.
With one hand carrying the freshly boiled soup, he approaches the altar he had carved out of nothingness by the bookcase - a second altar he had made from scratch. Settling it down gently in front of the wooden box, he closes his eyes and starts to speak.
Celestia had fallen.
There’s a new country, a lost country who had been suffering because of Heaven judging them unfairly simply due to their disbelief in gods - in the existence of Celestia. The traveler’s disappeared twin apparently is the ruler of them, along with the lost royal blood of Khaenri’ah who is married to someone in Mondstadts, thus becoming the child of Barbatos as well.
He is a living proof that a child of Tevyat and a native born of Khaenri’ah can coexist even without the war.
But the war had ushered in the possibility that Tevyat could live without Celestia’s blessing, it had taken so many lives, but it had also opened up so many possibilities. Many brave souls had risen in the wake of the war; after Heaven fell and uneasiness shook the very foundation of the world, they brought hope back, aspired to be as valiant as the heroes who had fallen in the war.
“It is a future you had helped shape into reality…” he concludes.
His eyes are still closed. The scent of the dish helped him picture his beloved’s form behind his eyelids. Smiling just as dazzlingly as when they first met...
“Dad, are you done speaking with mom?”
A tug on his sleeve snaps him back to reality, to his own child looking at him at eye level, frowning.
“Ah, yes, I apologize,” he steps back, allowing the half adeptus to take his spot, “...go ahead, take your time, he is a good listener so don’t worry about speaking too much”
“I know...” his son replies.
Letting his child to have his own privacy, Zhongli sets off back to the kitchen to scoop another serving for his son, when he is called once more. He turns his head to find the half adeptus staring at him. Those eyes which reminded him too much of his lover are focused on him.
“How long do you have left, dad?”
Ah.
So he notices.
Zhongli smiles at him, “A century, perhaps? Or a hundred years? I do not know for certain. Its progress are fickle at best...” he chuckles - the resignation in his voice is clear.
His child is quiet after hearing the answer he conveys; thoughtful, as he ponders what it means for them. What it means for the generation to come. Then, with a sigh, his son turns back to face his mother, head held up high as he speaks,
“I hope you find mom when the time comes...”
<hr>
With the box safely cradled in his arms, he opens the door of his abode, feeling the wind caressing his face - he doesn’t feel the cold anymore. Behind him, he can feel the intense stare of his son, watching his every move as he steps outside. He knows that he would be followed by his Yaksha and his own son - they are such worrywarts.
Zhongli knows he might not be able to make the trip, that his body is too fragile now to carry him to where he wants him to be as he crumbles back to the earth he was born with. Yet he wants to walk this last voyage by himself.
It’s hard.
It’s painful.
Each step he takes feels as if he’s losing himself piece by piece, the never-changing stone, eroded. Yet he moves on, holding the box tight within his grasp as he continues further. Across the field and climbing the hills, away from civilization, away from sight. The winter sun is shining above him, the open plain spreads apart before him.
He knows this path by memory. Even when each crumbling piece makes him forget a part of his memory, he would not forget this.
When he finally arrives, the field of Glaze Lilies welcomes him with their blooming blossoms. The altar in the middle looks untouched; as perfect as when he had left it thousands of years ago. It had been protected by all of the Adepti and himself so none would ever find it but him.
His legs feel numb, perhaps half of them had deteriorated too far to be used for these last few steps.
But that’s okay.
He crawls.
It’s okay.
He sits by the altar, the box safely tucked within his embrace as he leans to the little shrine coated with thin dust. His lips are pulled into a smile as he feels two pairs of hands taking his own, holding him in a loosened grasp.
Zhongli squeezes back.
It’s okay .
He’s not alone anymore.