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Chapter Text

The wind brought news of Decarabian’s downfall.

Morax was not particularly surprised by this. After a certain point, mortals who were oppressed would have nothing to lose, and so would dare to even rebel against the gods. Even gods who doted on their subjects were not exempt from their rebellion.

(He remembered the God of Salt, her gentle smile as she guided and protected her people through the Archon War...and the betrayal that was her reward as the mortals she cared for stabbed her in the heart.)

All things changed, and even the earth could not remain immutable. Nothing was permanent in this world, not even the gods.

When Morax heard of Decarabian’s downfall, he sent an adepti to invite the Anemo Archon to a meeting.

He would have gone by himself, but there were customs and traditions that even the Seven should adhere to. It would have been rude for him to come unannounced, and this way he could prepare for his meeting with the new Archon.

Decarabian—Morax remembered from the few meetings he had with him—was stubborn and proud. Someone who was so set in his way that he could never conceive being wrong. He would have never listened to him, and so Morax never tried.

Morax wondered how similar Barbatos was to his predecessor.

The answer, as it turned out, was not at all.

They met at the border between Liyue and Mondstadt, on neutral grounds high in the mountains, away from the prying eyes of mortals. Most mortals, it seemed. Barbatos brought with him two knights: a blond woman who he assumed was from the Gunnhildr clan, and a man dressed in black with fiery red hair that reminded him of the Pyro Archon.

Morax, in contrast, came alone.

The Lord of Geo did not mind this. In fact, he had expected more, which was why he descended in his dragon form. First impressions were crucial after all, and one would not want to look weak in front of someone who could be a future enemy.

And yet, this was precisely what the new Anemo Archon had done.

The dragon god looked down at the slip of a figure in front of him. Barbatos had taken on the form of a young boy in white, his angelic wings tucked behind him and hood lowered, braids swaying in the ever-present wind. Verdant green eyes looked up at him with unabashed awe, the innocence reflected within them showcasing the new god’s inexperience.

Time, Morax knew, would weathered that innocence to experience.

Barbatos smiled, and the God of Merchants saw not a hint of deceit.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rex Lapis,” the new Anemo Archon said, with such cheerfulness he had not seen or heard from other gods in milleniums. In his hands was a simple picnic basket, covered with a plain red-and-white checkered cloth. He offered it up to him, “Would you like to be friends?”

Morax glanced at the offered picnic basket—a symbol of a possible treaty, perhaps, though it’s questionable that the new god realised this—then back to Barbatos’ grinning face. Behind the Anemo Archon, he idly noticed Barbatos’ knights tensing up.

“Friendship?” Morax’s voice was the rumble of the earth, ancient and steady, “Tell me, young god, what do you demand from your ‘friends’?”

“Nothing,” Barbatos replied, tilting his head in genuine confusion, “I don’t want my friends to do anything unless they want to, and I certainly won’t demand things of them. Sure, it’ll be nice if we can hang out and have fun together, but I don’t want to force them to.”

This answer—so different from what his predecessor would have said—intrigued Morax.

“Nothing?” He repeated, “Then what of those who are not your friends? Would you have them do your bidding?”

The Anemo Archon shook his head, “No, I believe that everyone has the right to be free and choose their own destinies.”

Very different from Decarabian, Morax concluded. But that does not necessarily mean in a good way.

“Then what of your people? Are you saying you will not guide them?”

“Yes.”

The answer—so quick and delivered with such firmness—shocked Morax. Yet when glanced behind to look at the two knights, he saw that neither of them were surprised by their god’s statement.

Amber eyes locked back onto Barbatos’ slim form, weighing his words with the same careful consideration Morax gave to the gems of his domain.

“Do you know that by doing so, you will be the weakest of the Seven?” Morax inquired. Perhaps the new god didn’t know of this fact, “We gain our power and influence through our people. If you leave them, you will be forfeiting power that should have been yours.”

“Is that so?” Barbatos mused, tilting his head innocently. Morax felt a spark of hope. Then, the Anemo Archon grinned and shrugged, “That’s fine then! I never care for power anyway!”

What god does not desire power?

In his long, long life, Morax has only met a handful of people who truly has no desire for fame and power.

“Then what is it that you desire?”

“Freedom.”

Morax slowly blinked his large eyes, turning over and examining the answer in his head.

Freedom, in and of itself, wasn’t a terrible desire to have. There were many who wished to do as they please, to choose for themselves their own destinies, and Morax saw no harm in that. In fact, he admired those who have the will to shape their own future.

However, freedom could be a double-edge sword. One could argue that complete freedom was indistinguishable from anarchy and chaos. After all, there were those who believed that freedom meant freedom from consequences.

What kind of freedom did this new god believed in?

“Surely you can advocate for freedom while guiding your people?” Morax asked, for the idea that a god would not manage their domain was a novel one.

Barbatos shook his head, and asked, “What is freedom when mandated by a god?”

What indeed...?

“I believe in my people,” he continued, smiling, “I know they can make their own future.”

Morax looked down at the new god, so young and innocent, yet possessing a wisdom that many of his immortal peers lacked, “You would entrust the future to mortals?”

“Yes.”

Interesting.

More and more, Morax found himself intrigued by this new god.

“They say that the earth and the wind are opposites,” spoke the Lord of Geo, circling slowly around the Lord of Anemo’s small form. His large, serpentine body blocked Barbatos’ knights from view, but the Anemo Archon didn’t seem concerned by that, “What makes you think that we can get along?”

Barbatos beamed at him, his smile reminding Morax of blooming glaze lilies nurtured by the sweetest melodies, “I don’t think the earth and the wind are that different at all. In fact, I would go so far as to say that they’re quite similar.”

“Earth provides the foundation for life, while wind moves it. From the earth, flowers bloom and spread their petals, while the wind spreads their scent and pollen afar, so new life can be found in the four corners of the world. So too, do the earth provides people with their home and nourishment, while the songs carried on the wind kindle their spirit to new adventures.”

Then, Barbatos raised his head, and smiling, stated firmly:

“Like how songs are best carried by the wind from the tops of mountains and cliffs, so too is the foundation of freedom—the kind of freedom which allows everyone to be happy—made out of contracts.”

Ah, Morax noted, so that is the kind of freedom you espouse.

A freedom that does not trespass on the rights of others. A freedom that came with duty of care. A freedom that was made of informed choices and responsibility towards oneself and others.

A freedom that was based on the written and unwritten contracts of society.

“I agree,” Morax nodded, pleased with his answer. Perhaps this new Anemo Archon would prove to be much more amicable than his predecessor.

“Then,” Barbatos raised the picnic basket again. A trace of nervousness graced his features, and Morax—despite his centuries of experience in dealing with immortals—found himself charmed, “Would you like to be my friend?”

The dragon god glanced down at the offered basket. Barbatos had flipped over the cloth, revealing a modest fare of two bottles of wine, an apple pie, and a roast chicken. As the God of Wealth, Morax had received far more luxurious offerings.

Yet the sincerity in Barbatos’ smile outshone even the best radiant-grade noctilucous jade.

“Very well then,” with a rumble like an earthquake, Morax’s dragon form shone gold. When the light faded away, he was a young man dressed in the finest garbs of Liyue. A hand took the offered treaty, “Let us be friends, Lord Barbatos.”

Friendship is but another form of contract; one filled with many unwritten rules and expectations that could shift and change like the sands. In many ways, a simple business relationship would perhaps be more beneficial for the two immortals. Yet, save for the adepti and the God of Dust, Morax has few immortals he could call friends, and none of them were among the Seven.

Morax hoped he would not regret this.

All thoughts of regret, however, were swept away like sand on the wind when Barbatos smiled, fresh and hopeful like the spring breeze.

“Then please call me Venti!” He said, eyes curved into crescents by his wide smile, “We’re friends now, after all!”

A personal name. Did he realise exactly what he had offered?

Kind must be returned with kind; thus is the rule of reciprocity that Morax lived by. With a smile of his own, the Lord of Geo replied.

“Then call me Zhongli.”

Chapter Text

Zhongli thought that they would not meet again for a long, long time.

As the eldest of the Seven, that was the natural assumption to make. Most gods tend to remain in their own realms; doubly so for Archons, who rarely—if ever—leave the countries they guarded. Zhongli himself rarely leaves Liyue unless it was necessary, and even then, it was rarer for him to go more than a little beyond the borders.

Nobody, it seemed, had told Venti that.

A few months after the first meeting between the Lords of Geo and Anemo, a bard in green wandered into Jueyun Karst.

Mountain Carver was the one who greeted him at the foot of the mountains, warning the Mondstadt-born outlander that he was entering the territory of the adepti and ordering him to leave. The bard, in return, simply laughed and told him that he was meeting a friend, and asked him if he could point the way to Rex Lapis’ abode.

Mountain Carver—not knowing the true identity of the bard—flatly refused.

The bard smiled back and told the immortal that he would simply wait here.

The adeptus left, thinking that it was just a bluff, but the bard truly did as he claimed. He sat down under the boughs of an ancient tree, pulled out his lyre, and sang.

For days the unnamed bard sat there, singing to the birds and beasts. His voice was a gentle alto on the wind, carrying within them both the memories of happier days and the promise of a brighter future. Cranes settled on the banks of the rivers near the tree, their elegant necks turning towards him, while squirrels and foxes peeked from behind bushes and branches. Even the adepti were not immune to his melodies; some even lingering near the edges of the clearing.

And, perhaps most tellingly of all, glaze lilies bloomed all around him.

It was to this scene that Zhongli returned to.

He had left to check on Liyue Harbour some months ago, and had only returned because Xiao had told him to. Now, staring at the green bard surrounded by blossoming glaze lilies and charmed wildlife, he could see why.

Beautiful.

Zhongli did not know if he was referring to the flowers, the song, or the bard himself.

The God of Contracts waited at the end of the clearing, unwilling to interrupt the lovely song. It was only after the Anemo Archon’s song concluded did he stepped forward and revealed his presence.

Venti beamed at him, “Zhongli, there you are! It’s been a while!”

“It has only been a few months,” Zhongli replied, noting the picnic basket next to the wind god. It looked similar to the one he had offered on their first meeting, sans the checkered red-and-white cloth, which Venti was sitting on.

“Yeah, like I said, it’s been a while,” Venti patted the ground next to him, “Come, sit! I brought some wine and sandwiches!”

Zhongli did so, before glancing at their surroundings, “It seems you’ve been here a while. Why was I not informed of your arrival?”

“Oh, I did tell this deer guy that I was here to visit a friend. Guess he didn’t pass along the message, huh?”

There was not a note of annoyance or frustration in his tone. If anything, it seemed that the God of Freedom found it amusing. Zhongli made a mental note to tell the other adepti about the form Barbatos seemed to often take.

“I did not receive word of your coming,” Zhongli inquired, taking the sandwich Venti offered him, “Did you send a messenger ahead of your arrival?”

“Oh, that,” Venti laughed, “Nah, I didn’t. Who could I have sent anyway?”

Curiosity piqued his interest, “What about the knights that accompanied you back then?”

“They have their own stuff to do,” Venti answered, opening a bottle of wine, “I didn’t want to disturb them, so I just went on my own.”

What a curious thing to say. Gods have subjects to do their bidding, whether they be mortals or other immortals like the adepti. Then again, as the God of Freedom, he supposed that Venti disliked giving orders in the first place.

“It is generally tradition to sent someone ahead of one’s arrival,” Zhongli gently informed him. Since he was a new god, he was most likely ignorant of this fact, “This way, the other could prepare for their arrival and won’t be caught flatfooted.”

“Oh,” the Anemo Archon stated. He looked down, fiddling with the bottle cap, “How do I do that? I do not have anyone to act as my messenger.”

Zhongli was about to point out that he has those two knights who accompanied him to that mountain, before realising that, as the God of Freedom, Barbatos would naturally not have any followers. Or at least none in the sense of Zhongli and the adepti.

He could not help but think: How lonely.

As far as he knew, Mondstadt also did not have any immortals like the adepti, and Barbatos had chosen to hid himself from mortals. Aside from a few mortal companions (who would most likely die before the end of the century), Venti has no one.

“...I’ll inform the other adepti of your appearance, so that this kind of mistake won’t happen again.”

“Thank you,” Venti smiled sincerely, “That’s kind of you.”

Zhongli nodded, taking a bite of his sandwich. For a while, they simply sat there amidst the flowers, enjoying the breeze and silence together. The Lord of Geo quietly mused at the serenity he felt around them, a different, yet still pleasant kind of peace compared to the still quiet he was accustomed to on these mountains.

Leaning back against the tree, Zhongli was starting to feel rather sleepy when Venti asked him:

“What’s with these flowers?” The Anemo Archon gently stroke one petal with a finger, observing it with rapt interest, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t see these when I came here.”

“Those are glaze lilies, a native species of Liyue,” Zhongli answered, “These flowers can sense the emotions of people. It is said that they will wither away when surrounding by ill-intentioned rumours and malice, but blossom when surrounded by happy songs and gentle souls.”

A faint smile graced the God of Contract’s lips as he looked at the flowers blooming around them.

“I must thank you for your songs, Venti,” he said, looking back at the green bard, “It has been a long time since I last saw so many of these in one place. With the Archon War, it is not the ideal time for these flowers to bloom, and indeed, they have become rare as a result. Thanks to you though, I get to see them blossom once more.”

“Hehehe,” Venti grinned, a little sheepishly at the sincere praise of the elder Archon, “You’re welcome!”

“Hmm,” Zhongli nodded, gaze drifting back to the flowers.

The fact that these glaze lilies bloomed for Venti was very telling. There was no doubt that the Anemo Archon had most likely unknowingly imbued his songs with some elemental energy to have these flowers bloom so quickly, but magic alone was not enough to make so many of them blossom, and so beautifully too. For this many lovely flowers to appear, the Anemo Archon must have a gentle soul.

Zhongli thought back on their first meeting on that mountain, and felt more relieved as he realised that he had made the right choice.

“What brings you here, by the way?” He asked, trying to think of any issues that might require an Archon to leave their realms, “Did something happened in Mondstadt?”

“Ah, no. Everything’s going well there,” Venti answered, turning to face him with a sheepish smile, “I just wanted to visit you. That’s all.”

The Lord of Geo blinked. Gods rarely left their domains, and when they did, it was always for some important purpose. For Venti to visit him simply because...he wanted to was...

Refreshing.

A smile pulled at the corners of his lips, “If that’s the case, would you care for a tour of the region?”

That sheepish smile turned into a wide grin, “Of course, I would love to!”

Zhongli chuckled at his eagerness. It felt nice to have a new friend.

Chapter Text

Who, Zhongli thought with some measure of despair, gave him those clothes?

A small part of him wondered if what Venti wore in his ‘divine form’ could even constituted as clothes.

After the Anemo Archon agreed to a tour of Liyue, Zhongli decided that they should start with the area around Jueyun Karst first, before heading to the three mountains nearby. Venti looked at the mist covered mountains with wonder, before asking if they were going to climb all the way up. Zhongli nodded, and told him that he could turn to his divine form if it would make climbing up the steep slopes easier, saying that no mortals dare to trespass the realm of the adepti.

Venti took him up on that offer, and Zhongli deeply regretted it.

Right now, the God of Freedom was floating up to a tree, chatting cheerfully with a couple of birds. His pure white wings flapped gently with the breeze, keeping him afloat, while his hood was lowered, showing green braids that swayed with his movements.

So far, that was fine. What bothered Zhongli’s traditional sensibilities were those...those everything else.

First, there was that thigh-high...boots, or stocking...or something. Zhongli wasn’t sure he could call that a footwear since Venti’s feet were completely bare. It also only covered one leg, while the other leg was completely bare save for a glowing green pattern around his upper thigh. Why?

Second, those shorts. To Zhongli’s traditional sensibilities, it was scandalously short. It barely covered anything! He couldn’t help but feel second-hand embarrassment. Why??

Then there were those arm sleeves. Wait, no. There was no problem there. It was probably one of the only things that decently covered Venti.

Lastly was that...top. Could he even called that clothing? It only covered his upper chest, and even that was just barely. The rest of his chest and stomach was completely bared to the world. Somehow,Zhongli thought with a mixture of despair and amusement, it seemed that he would look much less...revealing...if he went shirtless.

Why???

This was the same appearance which Venti took in their first meeting, but Zhongli was preoccupied with other things back then to really look at Venti’s clothings (or lack thereof). It was only now, on the foot of the mountains that surrounded Jueyun Karst, under the warm sunlight and songbirds, did Zhongli actually noticed what his new friend was wearing.

“Zhongli...? Hey, Zhongli!”

“Hmm...?” The Lord of Geo blinked, realising that the Anemo Archon was now floating in front of him, waving a hand in front of his face.

“You okay?” Venti asked, tilting his head, “You were really lost in your own head.”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Zhongli shooked his head, giving him a wry smile, “How about we go to Qingyun Peak now? I’m sure you’ll like the view.”

“Okay,” Venti pulled back with a smile, white wings flapping behind him, “Which way do we go?”

Zhongli pointed at the mountain. Venti nodded, and with a grin, he cheerfully exclaimed, “Race you!”

Before Zhongli could say anything, the wind god had disappeared from view.

Chuckling, the God of Contracts jogged up to the mountainside, before creating a stone platform beneath his feet. With a thought, the platform moved up along the steep slopes, acting like a geo-powered lift. As he waited for the platform to reach the top, he crossed his arms and thought about the...’clothing issue’.

If his clothings were derived from the culture he represented, then Zhongli would not question his choice in fashion. As someone who embodied the culture and traditions of Liyue, he knew that a country’s culture were based on the rich history and experiences of the nation. It would not be right for an outsider to judge another country’s way of life without knowing the full story behind it.

That said, Zhongli was fairly certain that Venti was not wearing some sort of Mondstadt traditional clothes in his divine form. True, it had been centuries since he last stepped on the land of wind, so customs and traditions may have changed. However, after Decarabian’s fall, merchants and diplomats from Mondstadt had started appearing in Liyue, restarting the trade and flow of people between the two regions. None of the Mondstadter he had seen wore anything remotely similar to what Venti was wearing now.

He couldn’t question Venti. Although he had agreed to be friends with the Anemo Archon, this was only their second meeting. It would be incredibly rude of him to question someone who was still technically a stranger about their clothes, even if said stranger was as friendly as Venti.

Venti was floating over a flower when he reached the top, peering down at its petals with curiosity.

“There you are!” Spinning in place, Venti beamed at him, “Took you long enough! I was beginning to wonder when you’ll arrive.”

Chuckling, Zhongli stepped off the platform, the stone crumbling into pebbles which skittered down the mountain as he walked up to the other god. “Not everyone has wings, Venti,” he replied gently.

“You can turn into a dragon though,” Venti pointed out.

“I see no need to turn into one when I don’t have to though.”

“Hmm,” Venti appeared to give it some thought, before shrugging it off. With a bright smile, he spread his arms, feathers flying in the wind, “You’re right. The view here is amazing! It’s like you can see all of Liyue from here.”

“Hahaha, not all of Liyue,” Zhongli said with a note of fondness. He gazed out the mist-covered terrain, “You could not see Liyue Harbour from here, though you can Mount Hulao, Mount Aozang, the Huaguang Stone Forest, and the Dihua Marsh from here.”

He pointed to each area as he spoke, Venti eyeing them with interest.

“They look really impressive,” Venti said sincerely, “Are we going to them next?”

Zhongli nodded, “If you want.”

“Great!” Venti flapped his wings in excitement, “I can’t wait. Though I do have a question...?”

“Ask away.”

The wind god leaned down over the flower he was observing before Zhongli’s arrival, “What’s the name of this flower? For some reason, it reminds me of the cecilias in Mondstadt.”

“These are called qingxin. They are solitary flowers that grows only at the top of mountains and stone peaks,” Zhongli answered, kneeling down to look at it, “Locals sometimes refer to them as the ‘Immortal’s Flower’ because just like the adepti, they can only be found far from human civilisation, on top of steep, solitary mountains. They are used in a variety of medicine and local cuisine. Though since they are quite rare, they are quite expensive on the market.”

Venti nodded, “I see! They’re kind of like the cecilia flower in Mondstadt then. Cecilias  can only be found in the wild, on steep cliffs where the wind is harshest. Like the qingxin, they can be used in a lot of medicine and food, but since it’s so dangerous to get one, it’s rare to find one sold in the market.”

He smiled, lifting the flower in his hair to show it to Zhongli, “This is a cecilia. It’s my favourite flower.”

Zhongli looked at the white flower. It appeared so small and dainty, as if it could be ripped easily by a stray breeze, yet according to Venti these flowers could withstand the toughest gale. His amber gaze drew up to Venti’s, and softly, he said with a small smile, “It suits you.”

Yes, a flower that small and strong suited the god in front of him.

“Hehehe, thanks!” Venti place the flower back in his hair, before asking, “So, are we going now?”

Zhongli nodded, before remembering a certain...’issue’...he thought about earlier, “Yes, but before that, are you cold?”

“Cold?” Venti tilted his head, laughing, “No, I don’t feel cold. I actually feel comfortable. The air is so fresh up here!”

Of course, he was the Anemo Archon. He would not be a stranger to mountain air. Furthermore, with his anemo powers, he could easily circulate the air around him so that it wasn’t too cold for him.

“Still...” Zhongli murmured, thinking for a moment, before he decided to take off his coat. He held it out for him, “You should wear this. It will only get colder on these mountaintops at night.”

While that was true, he was fairly certain that Venti could withstand it. After all, their first meeting was on top of a high mountain. This was just an excuse so that Zhongli could give him something to cover himself up.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind the cold,” Venti replied, bemused, “Besides, won’t you get cold yourself?”

Zhongli shook his head, pushing the coat into his hands, “I insist. Don’t worry about me, I’m used to the mountain air.”

Venti tried to decline, but in the face of Zhongli’s insistence, he could only sigh with a small smile while he took the coat. “Thank you,” he said, “But there’s no way I can put it on with my wings out.”

“If that’s the case...” Zhongli took the coat back before easily slashing its back. Venti gaped at him, shock written clearly across his face as Zhongli returned the coat back to him, “There you go. Now it won’t block your wings.”

“Wha—What!? Why? You didn’t have to do that!” The young god fluttered in the air, holding the coat to his chest, “This is your coat, you didn’t have to ruin it for me!”

Zhongli shrugged, “It’s fine. I have other coats.”

Venti stared at him, green eyes wide. “You’re really...” he let out a small laugh, shaking his head slightly as he put on the coat. Once it was on, he turned to Zhongli with a grin, “There. Thanks a lot, Zhongli!”

Zhongli reached forward to button the coat. After the wind god was finally decently covered, he stood back and smiled, “You’re welcome.”

There. Now Venti wouldn’t get cold.

Chapter Text

After their trip to Qingyun Peak, Zhongli decided that they should head to Mount Hulao first.

“Wow!” Venti exclaimed as he flew around the giant amber jutting out of Mount Hulao’s peak, Zhongli’s cloak fluttering behind him, “This is amber right? There’s so many of them!”

“Correct,” Zhongli nodded, sitting leisurely on top of the amber, “Most think that these amber came from the ancient trees, but in truth they were grown from a flower called the karst crawler. They were planted here by an adeptus to deter trespassers.”

Venti hovered in front of him, curiosity in his gaze, “Oh? How does that work?”

“The karst crawler grows underground. When someone steps on it, it will release its resin on it, which will solidify into amber within seconds, trapping the person. Quite a few creatures and items have been trapped in the amber of Mount Hulao for a long time, such as the unfortunate wildlife and precious treasure left by trespassers when they ran away.”

The wind god eyed the amber he was sitting on warily, poking it carefully. Zhongli couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry,” he gave a small smile to the other god, “Once the resin has solidified, it becomes as harmless as any regular amber. It won’t suddenly capture you.”

“That’s good to know,” Venti replied with a little laugh, “I would hate to be trapped below.”

“If you do, I’ll get you out,” Zhongli stated, half-serious, half-joking.

“Thanks!” Venti giggled slightly, before tilting his head and asking, “Have humans ever been trapped in here?”

“Sometimes, yes,” Zhongli nodded, “Most of the time, the humans respect the treaty with the adepti and leave us alone, however sometimes a few of them ignore the contract and trespassed into our realm. Driven by either greed, desperation, or some other reason, they seek to steal treasures or powers that is not theirs to have. Those that did so often find themselves trapped in the amber here, or ‘dealt’ with by the adepti.”

“...I see,” Venti said. He sat down next to him, wings gently brushing against the Lord of Geo’s arm as it settled behind the wind god’s back. The Anemo Archon gazed contemplatively at the stone forest spread out beneath their feet, “Well, I suppose if they dare to enter this area without permission, then that would be the consequence of their ambition. Though do you ever let them go from their perdition?”

“It depends on the severity and frequency of the crimes, as well as their reasons. If they only came here once and have noble intentions, we will let them go with a light punishment,” Zhongli answered, “However, if they continuously ignore the warnings and came here out of greed, then naturally their punishment will be more severe.”

Venti nodded, “Makes sense.”

They fell into a brief lull after that. Zhongli watched the other god peered over the amber, taking in the scenery in front of him. His green eyes took in everything with such interest, Zhongli felt pleased that his realm managed to impress him.

His observation of the new god was interrupted by a bird’s footsteps.

Mountain Shaper—in the form of a brown crane—approached them from behind. The adeptus stopped a dozen steps from them and bowed to Zhongli, “Lord Rex Lapis, this one is honoured to see you. Is there anything this one can do for you?”

“Ah, Mountain Shaper, it is good to see you,” Zhongli replied, standing up to return the polite bow. He noticed that Venti, too, stood up to face the adeptus. “Thank you for you offer, but there is nothing that we need.”

Beside him, Venti smiled and waved, “Hello!”

Mountain Shaper inclined his head in greeting, “Hello as well, Sir...”

“This is Barbatos,” Zhongli gestured towards him, “He is the new Anemo Archon from Mondstadt.”

“Lord Barbatos!?” The adeptus’ eyes widened, before he bowed before Venti as well, “This one is honoured to meet you.”

“The honour is all mine,” Venti replied humbly, placing a hand over his chest and inclining his head, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Mountain Shaper.”

“If this one may ask, what brings the Lord of Anemo to Liyue?”

“Ah, it’s nothing serious,” Venti laughed, “I just wanted to visit Zhongli. We’re friends after all!”

“Friends...?” The adeptus glanced at Zhongli, a question clear in his eyes.

“Yes,” Zhongli stated firmly, “The Anemo Archon and I are now friends.”

Mountain Shaper looked back at Venti, noting the oversized coat the wind god was wearing. As one of Rex Lapis’ loyal followers, the adeptus knew instantly that the coat belonged to the Lord of Geo. He looked at Zhongli, seeing that his god was gazing at him steadily, as if ready to rebuke him if he dared question him.

“...This one understands,” Mountain Shaper said, though Zhongli wondered what exactly he ‘understood’. He could see that the immortal still has a question at the tip of his tongue, but the adeptus bowed again and simply said, “Forgive this one for interrupting you, milords. This one will take one’s leave now.”

Before Zhongli could say anything, Mountain Shaper flew away.

"Well," Venti hummed after a short while, “He seemed nice."

Their next destination was Mount Aozang.

The sun was slowly descending on the western horizon, so Zhongli thought that it was time for them to eat. He guided Venti towards the lake in the middle of the mountain, watching how the Anemo Archon flew beside him while he stood on a levitating stone platform. The God of Freedom was humming an unknown tune under his breath, sometimes ducking below the clouds whenever he spotted something interesting in the Huaguang Stone Forest below.

Usually, Zhongli would simply become one with the earth when he needed to travel, saving his dragon form for more formal occasions. However, doing the former meant that he would not be properly doing his duty as a guide nor would it allow him to talk with the Anemo Archon while they flew to Mount Aozang. As for the latter, Zhongli deemed that turning into a dragon would be a little too much for a leisurely short trip.

When they descended by the lake in the mountain, Venti was immediately enthralled by the inventions just outside Cloud Retainer’s home.

“What’s this?” He asked, reaching out to touch a dull, gold orb.

“Touch it, and you may die,” came the cold voice of the inventor from behind the wind god. Venti yelped, spinning in place to face the white-and-blue immortal crane. Cloud Retainer regarded him coolly, “Who are you, to have entered the abode of the adepti?”

“This is the new Anemo Archon, Barbatos,” Zhongli quickly walked up to them, “He is here to visit me.”

“The Anemo Archon!” Cloud Retainer gaped. She quickly recovered herself though, bowing respectfully before Venti, “Forgive this one’s rudeness. One did not know that the Anemo Archon was visiting.”

“It’s fine, really!” Venti quickly assured her, laughing a little nervously at her politeness. Zhongli guessed that he was still not used to people treating him like a god.

“This is Cloud Retainer, the adeptus who made the inventions you see before you,” The Geo Archon introduced her, “She also lives nearby. I’m surprised to see your inventions outside your domain, Cloud Retainer.”

The immortal crane straightened, explaining, “This one thought to do some testing. One remembers the...accident that happened last time one thought to test one’s inventions indoors.”

Zhongli chuckled, “Ah yes, Mountain Shaper needed to come by to fix the hole you made in the mountain. I’m quite impressed by the explosive power of that invention.”

“Thank you, milord,” If a crane could looked embarrassed, then that was what she was right now, “May this one ask why you are here, Lord Rex Lapis?”

“The sun is setting. I believe now is the time for dinner,” answered Zhongli.

Cloud Retainer nodded, “Then this one shall set up the table.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Venti asked, drawing both of their attention.

Zhongli shook his head, “You are our guest. It would be rude of us to expect you to do our work for us.”

“This one agrees,” Cloud Retainer added. She gestured with a wing to the stone table set in the middle of the lake, “Come, this one will show you to your seat while Lord Rex Lapis cooks.”

“Okay...”

As the wind god followed the adeptus, Zhongli went to a nearby cooking pot and started making preparations for dinner. He had ruminated on the menu on the way here, before eventually deciding that it was best to keep it simple. Venti did not seem like the kind who cared too much of luxuries; as long as it was delicious then it was enough for the Lord of Anemo.

(In this case, Zhongli agreed with Venti’s taste. He, too, did not care for frivolous luxurities.)

Cloud Retainer joined him after she had seated the Anemo Archon and set the table. Skillfully, she helped him cook the matsutake meat rolls, mora meat, and jewellery soup. When it was done, she fetched a tray and Zhongli carried the food to the table.

The sun was low on the horizon when they neared the table, casting a twilight hue one the rolling clouds below. Venti was staring at the sunset, his face awashed with rubies and gold from the setting sun. For a brief moment, the God of Contracts stared at him.

Zhongli did not notice Cloud Retainer glancing at him with increasing suspicion.

“Oh?” As if smelling the food, the wind god turned and grinned at them, “That smells delicious! What did you cook?”

“Some simple local specialties,” Zhongli replied, setting the tray on the table, before sitting on his designated chair. Next to him, Cloud Retainer also did the same. He pointed towards each of the dish, naming each of them for the new god, “These are matsutake meat rolls, while this one is mora meat. The soup is called jewellery soup, though despite its rather luxurious name, it is made of simple, easy-to-gather materials such as snapdragon, tofu, and lotus seeds.”

“It certainly looks luxurious,” Venti murmured, leaning over a little to smell it, “And it certainly smell luxurious too. It’s quite amazing what can be made from common, everyday items.”

“I agree,” Zhongli smiled, pouring some of the soup into Venti’s bowl, “I believe that it’s more impressive to make something exceptional using common ingredients than to simply make food from rare items. Though I suppose that there are some flavours that can only be found using such ingredients.”

“Yup,” Venti nodded, clumsily holding his chopsticks, “Ah, how do you use this...?”

He fumbled with the wooden sticks, trying to lift a piece of tofu. However, it slipped from his grasp, and the chopsticks fell into the bowl, spilling hot soup over his hand, “Ouch!”

“Careful,” Zhongli gently said, pushing a napkin towards him. Then, he stood up and reached around the young god, carefully holding his hand to show him the correct way to hold the eating utensil. Leaning over the wind god, he murmured, “Here, hold it like this.”

“Hmm? Ah, okay...”

“This one apologises!” suddenly blurted Cloud Retainer. Zhongli blinked, looking up over Venti’s head of green hair. He had forgotten that the adeptus was here. “This one suddenly remembers that one has left some inventions unattended. One needs to go back before—ah, um—something happens!”

“I see,” Zhongli nodded, accepting the excuse without further thoughts. He was still leaning over and holding Venti’s hand, “It would be best to take care of that now before anything happens again.”

“Yes...yes. This one will get to it immediately, milord!”

The adeptus bowed before the two Archons, before quickly flying back to her home.

“Huh, it’s sad that she doesn’t get to eat with us, but I guess that means more for us,” Venti leaned back against his chest, looking up at him with a grin. His weight against his was light, yet warm. The wind god clacked his chopsticks against each other, “So, can you show me how to use these things again?”

Chapter Text

After dinner, Zhongli decided it was time for them to retire for the night to Taishan Mansion.

Venti seemed to be worn out from the day’s activities. Instead of flying beside Zhongli, he instead chose to sit on the Lord of Geo’s levitating stone platform, his white wings drooping behind him. Occasionally, the young god would yawn and wipe his eyes with the sleeves of Zhongli’s oversized coat.

Zhongli couldn’t help but compare the act to a kitten sleepily pawing its face. A small smile curled up on the corners of his lips as he guided their platform to a certain lake in Jueyun Karst.

When they reached the lake that covered his manor, Zhongli mentally ordered the seals locking his home to come undone. Almost immediately, the water drained down, until the front door of Taishan Mansion stood before them.

“This is my abode in Jueyun Karst,” he said, opening the front doors for Venti. He gestured him into his domain, “Come in. You can rest here for the night.”

Sleepily, Venti smiled and half-yawned out, “Thanks...”

As the wind god entered the domain, Zhongli noticed a certain presence lingering nearby. He turned around, seeing the deer-shaped form of a particular adeptus.

“Moon Carver,” Zhongli called out, “What brings you here?”

The adeptus approached him and bowed to the Lord of Geo, “This one hopes one is not interrupting anything. One simply heard news that Lord Rex Lapis is entertaining a guest, and wishes to know more about it.”

“He is the new Anemo Archon, Barbatos,” Zhongli replied, “He came here simply to visit me.”

“This one heard,” Moon Carver nodded. He seemed to hesitate a moment before saying, “This one would also like to apologise. One had met the Anemo Archon when he first arrived here, yet dismissed him as a mere bard and did not tell milord about his presence. For that, one deeply regrets one’s actions.”

“No harm was done,” he easily accepted the apology, “and Venti himself didn’t seem to mind it. Just be more mindful next time.”

The adeptus accepted his words, “This one shall.”

Zhongli thought that was that. He was about to bid farewell and enter his domain, but Moon Carver’s next question stopped him in his tracks.

“This one wishes to ask however...” Moon Carver began, “...is that milord’s coat that the Anemo Archon is wearing?”

Zhongli nodded, thinking nothing of it, “Yes.”

“...Why did milord gave him the coat?”

“He seems cold,” There was no way he could say that he gave him the coat because he found Venti’s divine outfit to be too revealing. Since they were supposed to be friends, the least he could do was try to spare some of the other god’s dignity.

Though, Zhongli mused, I don’t think Venti is the type to care much for shame or dignity.

Moon Carver looked skeptical, “Milord, he’s the Anemo Archon.”

“Yes,” the Prime of the Adepti replied, in a tone that all but stated ‘And? What of it?’

“...It’s nothing, milord,” the adeptus eventually relented, after Zhongli stared at him for a while. Moon Carver bowed once more before he left, “This one wishes both of you a pleasantnight.”

Zhongli raised a brow as he watched the immortal deer leave, What was that about?

Then he shook his head and dismissed the thought. He had more important things to be worrying about.

Inside his domain, Venti was eagerly exploring every nook and cranny of the ‘mansion’.

Thankfully, Zhongli noted that he had returned to his ‘human’ form, wearing the green-and-white outfit of a Mondstadt bard. His brown coat was folded over an arm as the Anemo Archon beheld the wonders of his domain. Relief spread through him, Thank goodness. He looks much less...scandalous...than before.

“You truly are the God of Wealth and Commerce,” Venti stated as he looked at the golden guardian lion statues and elegant paintings lining the mansion’s corridors. Mortals would only face a series of trials when they enter the mansion, never seeing the true wonders that laid hidden within unless they were the Lord of Geo and his approved guests, “There’s so much stuff in here! You must be really rich.”

Zhongli held back a laugh. If only the other adepti or Guizhong were there to hear this...

“These are simply offerings given to me by the people of Liyue,” he replied, walking up to him, “I just store it here for safekeeping. Surely as the Anemo Archon, you’ve received your fair share of offerings too.”

“Yes, but nothing as extravagant as this,” Venti gestured at the marble floors, elegant vases, and the various decorations inlaid with noctilucous jade and cor lapis, “Besides, even if they give me stuff, I don’t really have a place to store them.”

This—like many things about the new god—intrigued Zhongli, “Surely you have a place to stay? A home?”

“Hmm, not in the common sense,” Venti smiled, “All the world is my home. I can sleep under a tree, in a cave, or in a bed, it’s all the same to me. I’m not bound to any one place.”

“I see...” He supposed that was just the nature of one called the God of Freedom and Wind. It was a different mindset than his own. As much as Zhongli loved to wander around Liyue, he still has certain spots to call ‘home’, such as this mansion and his homes in the Guili Plains and Liyue Harbour.

The wind came and went as it pleased, resting only for a moment before moving away. That was simply the nature of things. For a creature of the stalwart earth such as Zhongli, such an attitude might seemed strange, perhaps even sad and lonely without some kind of tether to root you back home. But Venti seemed happy enough with such a lifestyle, so Zhongli thought that he had no room to judge.

Gold and jade are different from each other, but that doesn’t mean that one is less than the other, Zhongli mused, Each has its merits and uses. What works for one is not guaranteed to work for another.

“Come,” Zhongli spoke, leading them away, “I shall show you your room.”

The Lord of Geo watched Venti’s eyes lit up as he showed him his room, and smiled to himself.

“Uff!!” Venti launched himself onto the large, plush bed, bouncing on top of its amber covers, “This is so big!”

Zhongli chuckled, “I’m glad you like it. My room is at the end of this hall. If you need anything, just knock.”

“Okay!” Venti pushed himself up by his elbows, before spinning around to face him, “Ah, wait! Do you have any needle and thread?”

Curious, the earth god tilted his head, “What do you need it for?”

Venti unfolded the coat that he had been carrying and showed its back to him, “I want to fix this before returning it to you.”

“There’s no need for that,” Zhongli shook his head, “You may keep it if you want. I have more to spare.”

“You sure?”

He nodded, “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Hmm...” The wind god looked at the brown coat in his lap, gazing at it contemplatively.

Zhongli didn’t know what Venti was thinking, but he assumed that it was nothing serious, “If that is all, I shall bid you good night.”

“Hm? Ah, yes,” Venti looked up at him, grinning widely, “Good night, Zhongli!”

Zhongli found himself smiling as he headed to his room.

It feels nice to say ‘good night’ to somebody and hear it said back to you.

Unfortunately, he didn’t reflect further on that thought.

The next day, they went to a small patch of land just south of Dihua Marsh.

Thousands of years from now, that place would be call Wangshu Inn, but right now, it was simply a nameless outpost where weary travellers and merchants stopped by to rest. The tree that would one day overlook the marsh was but a sapling in the present day, easily overlooked by the stall owners hawking their wares and the hundreds of passerby walking down the streets.

Venti was staring up at a Statue of the Seven—more specifically, his Statue.

“So this is how the people of Liyue sees you,” remarked Venti, peering up at the hooded stone figure.

“I suppose so,” Zhongli replied, gazing up at it, “It has been a very, very long time since they were made though.”

“Hmm...” Venti looked at it carefully, “Seems pretty accurate though. They got your bangs at least.”

“That they did.”

“Is the rest of it accurate too?” Venti asked with a mischievous smirk.

Zhongli looked at him, confused, “What do you mean?”

The smirk widened, “Those abs. Are they accurate?”

“Umm...” Caught by surprise at the question, Zhongli glanced away, trying to think of a suitable answer but only managing to stutter, “Ah, that is...”

Venti leaned closer, that mischievous smirk turning into a full-blown grin, “How did those sculptors get the reference they needed to make that torso? Did they drew it from their imagination, or did you pose for them? If you take off your shirt now, will it match the statue’s I wonder?”

“Ah—well, that’s...” Flustered, Zhongli’s cheeks turned red. He turned away from the snickering Anemo Archon, looking for anything to change the topic. That was when he spotted—“Ah, that’s Xiao!”

Zhongli ignored Venti’s startled shout as he dashed towards the Guardian Yaksha.

Xiao looked just as surprised at his appearance as Zhongli felt flustered, “Lord Rex Lapis? What are—?”

“Hey, Zhongli! Don’t dodge the question!”

Zhongli had stopped right in front of Xiao. Unfortunately, Venti—who had seen him running away—chased after him at full speed, crashing into him when the Lord of Geo abruptly stopped. The impact pushed him into Xiao, who yelped as all three of them crashed onto the ground in an undignified heap.

“Ugh...What...?” The Vigilant Yaksha mumbled, slightly dizzy from the fall.

“Hahaha, sorry, sorry!” Venti laughed as he pushed himself up, allowing both Xiao and Zhongli to stand up as well, “Sorry about that! I was just chasing my friend here.”

“Friend...?” Xiao looked at Zhongli in confusion.

“Yes,” Zhongli nodded, feeling a bit more composed now that the topic had changed, “Xiao, this is Barbatos, the new Anemo Archon, also known as Venti when among mortals. Venti, this is Xiao, one of the adepti and the Vigilant Yaksha of Liyue.”

“Hi!” Venti smiled, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s an honour to meet you, Lord Barbatos,” Xiao replied with a polite bow, “I heard much of you from the other adepti.”

“Good things, I hope?”

Xiao glanced at Zhongli with an undecipherable look, “I suppose so.”

“What are you doing here?” Venti asked curiously, “I heard that all of the adepti live in Jueyun Karst, far away from any human civilisations.”

“One of Xiao’s duties is to oversee Guyun Stone Forest,” Zhongli answered, “From here, one can have a clear view of that area.”

Xiao nodded, “That is correct. And also...”

Zhongli chuckled, “You like the almond tofu they make here.”

“...It’s delicious,” was all Xiao had to say.

“I see, I see,” Venti nodded. His smile turned a tad more playful, “So, you’ve known Zhongli for years, right?”

For some reason, Zhongli felt a horrible sense of premonition.

“Yes...” Xiao, perhaps sensing the brewing storm, also looked at the Anemo Archon warily.

“Sooo...” Venti leaned closer, grinning from ear to ear, “You haven’t by any chance seen him naked, have you?”

“Wha—!!” shouted Xiao. If Zhongli wasn’t feeling so mortified, he would have been impressed at how easily Venti made the usually calm and composed immortal blush. The Guardian Yaksha stuttered,  “That’s—what—That’s inappropriate!”

Venti raised his hands, still smiling mischievously, “I mean no harm by it. I was just simply curious.”

“Why are you curious about that?”

“Hahaha! I just want to know if his Statue of the Seven is accurate down to the smallest detail,” Venti explained with a wink, “Surely you understand?”

Blank-faced—though cheeks still faintly red—Xiao answered bluntly, “No, I don’t.”

“Really?” Questioned Venti, glancing at Zhongli, “Why not? He’s cute.”

Xiao stared at the God of Contracts.

Zhongli knew that the Vigilant Yaksha’s default expression was a blank one. Some days though, that expression seemed blanker than others. This was one such day.

“I,” Xiao stated, “am going to the chef to get some almond tofu. Please do not follow me.”

With that, Xiao left.

“Wait, I haven’t gotten my answer!” Venti whined. He turned to Zhongli, a certain playful sparkle in his eyes as he asked, “Well, since he’s gone, you can answer me. Or, better yet, you can always just show me.”

Blushing bright red, Zhongli barely managed to stammer out an answer.

In the end, Venti did not see Zhongli shirtless.

It would take over two thousand years before he finally got the answer to his question.

Their next stop was at Guili Village.

Just like the spot where Wangshu Inn would stand thousands of years from now, the Guili Plains looked completely different from what it would become in the future. Currently, it was the home of thousands of people; a large, sprawling village filled with colourful marketplaces, paddy fields, flowers and kites. It was a far cry from the desolate ruins it would later become.

“Wow,” Venti gaped in wonder, looking around at the bustling marketplace they found themselves in, “There’s so many people here!”

“Yes, besides Liyue Harbour, this is one of the most densely populated areas in Liyue,” Zhongli explained, glancing idly at the goods on display and the people around them. He felt a large sense of pride when he noticed that most, if not all of the villagers there were happy, “Most of the folks who cannot stand the busy life of the city or live near the sea would prefer to live here.”

“What are those?” Venti pointed at a certain thing flying in the sky.

Zhongli squinted, looking at it, before answering, “That’s a kite. It’s a common toy for the children of Liyue. Though it is called a ‘toy’ it also has other uses in ceremonies and training. For example, shooting down a flying kite is a common training exercise for archers.”

“Interesting...” Venti looked up in awe, “We don’t have those in Mondstadt. Under Decarabian’s rule, the wind was too harsh for anything to fly. Even birds couldn’t. I hope one day I can see these kites under Mondstadt’s skies.”

It was only months since the fall of the God of Storms and the ascension of the God of Freedom. Mondstadt was still busy recovering from its tyrant ruler. However, with trade slowly reopening between the two regions, it was only a matter of time before Mondstadt become the nation that Venti dreamed of.

Zhongli smiled gently at him, “I’m sure you will.”

“Yeah...”

It came to no surprise to him that Venti insisted they check out the kite stalls.

Zhongli mused that it was only natural for the God of Wind to be interested in anything that could fly, even if it was a simple kite. The concept alone—so novel in the wake of Decarabian’s tyranny—would intrigued him.

“So you have to pull at the string to keep it up?” Venti asked the kite merchant, holding a small red kite this way and that, “What happens if you let go?”

“Then the kite will fly away, before eventually falling,” answered the merchant, “You need both the tension from the string and the movement of the wind to keep it flying.”

“A tether from the earth and a wind beneath its wings...” murmured Venti, almost too quietly for Zhongli to catch.

“Is there anything that catches your eye?” He asked, looking at the myriads of colourful kites assembled in front of them.

“I’m not sure...all of them look so interesting,” Venti’s eyes were wide as he looked at each kite, sometimes holding them up to feel their weight against his hands. His eyes alighted at a particular row of kites at the right corner of the merchant’s stall, “Oh? What’s that?”

“You got a good eye, young sir!” The kite merchant gestured towards the kites attached with small bells and flutes on its body and tail, “This, sir, is a musical kite. One of Liyue specialties. I’m sure you’ve never seen one before in Mondstadt?”

“No,” Venti answered honestly, “How does it work?”

“It’s basically like any other kite,” the merchant replied, “All you have to do is get it flying and the wind will make the music. Would you like to see an example?”

At Venti’s eager nod, the merchant directed them to a small clearing behind his stall, where he had put up kites earlier that day. He pointed at a certain blue kite, the bells and flutes attached to it singing the wind’s song, “There, that’s a musical kite. Lovely, isn’t it?”

Venti smiled, eyes fixed on the kite’s small form. Zhongli imagined that the Anemo Archon could hear the kite’s song as if it was right next to his ears. Sincerely, the wind god said, “Yes, it’s truly lovely.”

The merchant looked stunned for a moment, perhaps not expecting the sincere weight behind his statement. He quickly recovered however, as befitting of a Liyuean merchant, “Why, thank you, good sir! Why don’t you stay here and look at the kites for a bit? If you’re interested, you can then buy some from me.”

“Thanks,” Venti smiled at him briefly, before looking back up at the kite.

Zhongli leaned against a tree, observing Venti as the wind god watched the flying kites. After a moment, Venti closed his eyes, still smiling as he tilted his head back, as if listening to the most wonderful orchestra.

As the Lord of Geo, Zhongli felt no particular affinity towards kites beyond the traditions they represent. It must have felt different for Venti, however, who embodied the wind. For a brief, clear moment, Zhongli wished he could hear the same thing the other god could.

I wonder what the wind’s song is like...

So distracted was he that he almost missed the familiar presence sneaking up on him.

“Ah,” said a female voice, startling the earth god. Zhongli spun in place, and saw his old friend, Guizhong, in the form of the old lady she usually took when she wanted to remain hidden among mortals, “So this is the new god that everyone has been talking about.”

“Guizhong,” Zhongli greeted, smiling a bit, “Forgive me, I did not notice you there.”

“Distracted, hmm?” His old friend teased, “By a certain wind god perchance?”

Zhongli laughed slightly, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Hmm, sure you don’t,” she lightly tapped his arm, chuckling slightly, “Everyone has been talking about you and a certain Anemo Archon.”

“Such as...?”

Guizhong grinned, “Why don’t you find out by yourself? On that note, why don’t you introduce me to your new friend?”

Zhongli nodded, “Very well then.”

They walked over to Venti, who opened his eyes at their approach.

“Venti, this is my old friend, Guizhong, the God of Dust,” Zhongli introduced them to each other, “And Guizhong, this is Barbatos, the new Anemo Archon, also known as Venti when among mortals.”

“It’s an honour to meet you, Lord Barbatos,” his friend greeted kindly, inclining her head politely.

“The honour is mine, milady,” Venti returned with a charming grin.

“My, I can see why a certain someone is charmed,” Guizhong laughed slightly, “You are quite the cute one aren’t you, young one?”

“Why thank you!” Venti replied with a theatrical flourish, placing his hands over his heart, “I must say, you are quite charming yourself. Perhaps we can talk more over a drink or two?”

“Ehem,” Zhongli cleared his throat, interrupting them. For some reason, this caused Guizhong to smirk at him. He ignored her to focus on Venti, “So, did you find anything you want?”

Guizhong’s tone was amused, “Are you offering to buy something for him?”

Zhongli looked at her calmly, “If he wants one.”

“Ah, there’s no need for that,” Venti protested, “I have some mora from singing, and if it’s not enough, I can always perform for more.”

“You’re our guest,” Zhongli reasoned, ignoring Guizhong’s raised brow, “I insist.”

“Before that, do you even remember to bring your wallet this time?” His old friend asked, a small laugh underlying her voice.

Zhongli sighed, “Yes, I brought it with me this time.”

“And did you remember to fill it with mora?”

“...”

A quick check at his wallet revealed that, no, he had not filled his wallet with mora.

“Wha...?” Venti gaped at him, “You’re the God of Mora. It’s literally named after you. How can you forget it?”

“Hahaha...” Guizhong laughed softly, “That’s one of the amazing things in this world, little one. The God of Wealth often walks around without a penny to his name.”

“...”

“Ah, it’s fine anyway,” Venti said after he giggled, “I won’t be able to carry it with me anyway.”

“Oh? Why is that?” Guizhong asked.

He opened the green messenger bag by his side, revealing a certain brown coat tucked inside it, “There’s not enough space in my bag.”

Guizhong glanced at him when she saw the coat, but quickly looked back at Venti before Zhongli could say anything. “That’s not a problem. Lend me that bag for a moment.”

Confused, Venti did as she asked. She smiled at him, asking him to wait for a moment as she left the little kite-filled clearing. When she was gone, Venti looked at Zhongli with a question in his eyes.

“There’s a way to make things much bigger on the inside,” Zhongli answered his unspoken question, “Guizhong, for example, puts all her belongings and home inside a little teapot she carries everywhere.”

“That’s really convenient,” Venti mused, “It would be really useful for my travels.”

“Travels?” Zhongli tilted his head, “Are you not heading back to Mondstadt after you’re done with Liyue?”

He shook his head, “Nope! Like I said before, the world is my home, so I would like to see as much of it as possible.”

Like the wind itself...Zhongli mused, saying aloud, “While that is a fine goal, remember that we are still in the midst of the Archon War. Much of the world is in chaos, and the gods fight against each other for a throne among the Seven. Be careful in your travels...especially when you meet the other gods.”

“What do you mean?”

Zhongli pursed his lips, remembering them, “Let’s just say that not all the other gods are as nice as me.”

Before he could elaborate on it more, Guizhong returned. She gave the bag back to Venti, as well as handing him a small instruction booklet on how to use the new features in his bag/portable home.

“Thanks a lot, Lady Guizhong,” Venti beamed at her, “You are truly among the kindest of gods!”

“And you, my dear, are a flatterer,” she laughed, patting his shoulder, “Take good care of it. It will serve you well on your journey.”

“I will. Thank you again!”

“Guizhong,” Zhongli drew her attention back to him, “Is there any boats leaving Liyue to the other nations any time soon?”

“Hmm...I think I heard of one heading to Inazuma. Why do you ask?”

“Inazuma?” Venti’s eyes lit up with wanderlust, “That’s the land of the samurais, right? What is it like?”

Guizhong looked at him, “You are interested to travelling to Inazuma?”

“I want to travel the world,” Venti answered honestly, “I don’t want to just go to Inazuma. I want to see Sumeru, Fontaine, Natlan, and all the other places in this world. I want to see everything.”

“Ah, a true spirit of the wind,” she chuckled, “I suppose I should have expected nothing less from the new Anemo Archon.”

Venti chuckled, “Haha...wind spirit...yeah, it’s something like that...”

“Travel to Inazuma is difficult, but not impossible,” Zhongli said, “However, getting entry into Inazuma City itself is a whole other matter. I’m not sure if the gods there takes kindly to visiting new deities...”

Guizhong nodded, “I agree. It’s best you be careful when you’re there, young one.”

“I will,” Venti replied, “Thank you all for your advice.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” Guizhong smiled, “Now, how about we get you that kite before you leave?”

“So,” Guizhong hummed as they watched Venti’s ship leave, “That’s Venti, huh?”

“Yes, quite interesting isn’t he?” Zhongli replied, keeping a watchful eye on the horizon. Who knew what kind of sea monsters lurked beneath the waves.

“Oh, quite,” There’s a playful glint in her eyes as she glanced at him, “I do hope that he’ll come by to visit again.”

“Liyue is Mondstadt’s neighbour, as well as the harbour to which many people from all over the world over gather to. I’m certain we will meet again.”

“You’re certain are you?” Guizhong laughed softly, “This was only your second meeting with him, yet you’re so certain already. Ah, you don’t even realise it, do you?”

Zhongli glanced at her, but she simply shook her head, chuckling to herself.

He turned his gaze back to the horizon. Venti’s ship was but a speck on the horizon now, barely distinguishable from the other ships. Still, he imagined that if he strained his ears, he could hear the song from his lyre, carried up by the wind.

The wind came and went as it pleased, resting only for a moment before moving away. That was simply the nature of things. The earth has infinite patience however, and he would be here when the east wind returned.

Chapter Text

Seasons passed, and an east wind breezed into Liyue Harbour.

Venti stepped off the boat that came from Snezhnaya, humming a tune under his lips. It was a song that a certain local god there had taught him, something cheerful and warm despite the permafrost of her home. Despite the inherent chill that permeated throughout the land, Venti had found the that god to be kind and hospitable, and he looked forward to meeting them again.

Not like the other gods he met in his travels though. Zhongli was right when he said that the others weren’t necessarily as kind as him.

Perhaps next time we meet I shall gift them a song, or perhaps a souvenir from afar...

They did looked a little lonely, after all. Maybe something bright would lighten up that dreary ice palace of theirs.

As he exited the docks and entered the city proper, Venti noticed signs of festivities everywhere he looked. Bright paper lanterns adorned the streets, predominantly in red and gold, while children ran around waving miniature paper figures of serpentine dragons—Rex Lapis—in the air. What seemed like hundreds of stalls opened on the streets, in the marketplaces, everywhere with merchants enticing passerby with food, jewellry, toys, souvenirs, and more. Venti couldn’t move more than two steps without someone calling at him to check out their wares.

What drew Venti’s attention the most, however, were the kites.

He still remembered the first kites he saw, back then on that day in Guili Village. Zhongli had taken him there as part of a tour around Liyue, and he had been instantly mesmerised by the flying things. There were so many of them dotting the wide expanse of the blue skies, flying freely without fear of being struck down by a thundering gale. Then, he saw the musical kites and heard the wind sang through them, and he fell so hard.

Back then, Venti had wondered if what he felt was love at first sight.

Zhongli—kind, generous man that he was—wanted to buy one for him, but (amusingly enough) he forgot to bring any mora to actually pay for it. How the God of Mora could forget about the very currency that was named after him was a mystery that Venti thought could never be solved. Still, the Anemo Archon was touched by the sentiment.

After his trip around Teyvat, he understood that the way the Lord of Geo treated him—as friend and not a rival or potential foe—was the exception, not the norm.

It made him feel all the more grateful towards the older god.

I should also thank Guizhong, Venti thought as he deftly sidestepped some civilians rushing to catch a view of an event. There was a large parade moving through the middle of the street, men twirling a large paper replica of Rex Lapis’ dragon form in sync at the forefront, while a group of dancers spun and flicked their fans a few steps behind them. Without her, I wouldn’t get the kite or this bag.

The bag now stored all his precious belongings, such as gifts for the two Liyuean gods from his trip around the continent, the musical kite, and Zhongli’s coat.

He looked up at Liyue’s blue sky, back to the thing that had drew his attention when he first stepped off the boat. Covering the skies like a cloud was a large, serpentine dragon kite, its brown scales looking almost like gold in the sun. Surrounding it were several other kites, mostly adorned with the symbols for Geo or a scale—the signs of Rex Lapis’ rule. There were also the musical kites which Venti loved, singing a happy tune matching the din of festivities on the ground.

Venti stopped at a solitary corner by the main plaza, closed his eyes, and let the wind speak to him.

“Today’s the Rite of Descension! May Rex Lapis bless Liyue for another thousand years!”

“Happy Descension Day! Come on, let’s drink!”

“Another year, another rite...I wonder what predictions will our god give this year?”

“Gotta make it to Yujing Terrace first. First person who makes sense of Rex Lapis’ predictions always have a head-start in business!”

“Oh? You’re a travelling mercenary from Mondstadt? What’s the Rite of Descension? Why, it’s the one day of the year where Rex Lapis personally descends to Liyue from the mountains!”

“Come one, come all! There’s no other day like today!”

Venti opened his eyes, and smiled.

So, today was the day for the Rite of Descension. What fortuitous luck! Venti had heard of the rite from Liyuean merchants he had met during his trip, but to think that the day he would came back to Liyue would coincide with the day Zhongli would make his formal appearance too! Perfect, Venti thought with a mischievous grin, It’ll be great to see him again!

Unnoticed by the crowd, a bard in green slipped into Yujing Terrace.

Whoa...they’re really going all out...

Venti stood on his tiptoes as he peered over the crowd to catch a glimpse of centrepiece of the main event. The ritual to welcome Rex Lapis hadn’t started yet, but already throngs of people had gathered to offer incense, gold, and other items of value to the God of Wealth. If Venti wasn’t careful, he might get crushed by the crowd.

Now that would be a way to go...

Chuckling to himself, Venti carefully manoeuvred his way around the crowd, searching for a nice place to watch the proceedings. He had briefly thought of offering incense to Rex Lapis as a cheeky way to greet Zhongli, but he thought that it would be better to surprise him. Besides, unlike most of the humans in this crowd, he could give his gifts in person.

That was a privilege that came with being an Archon and Zhongli’s friend.

It took a while, but he finally found a spot on top of a wall. He was pretty sure that he wasn’t supposed to climb them, but the guards were too busy making sure the other visitors were organised and won’t disturb the sacred ritual that they didn’t notice a lone bard in green perched up on a high wall. With his legs swinging under him, Venti leaned forward and awaited his friend’s descent.

He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes after he got comfortable, a regal-looking man dressed in the long robes of Liyue stepped forward; his mere presence hushing the crowd. Venti sat up a little straighter, That must be the Tianquan, which means...

The crowd went silent as the Tianquan walked up to the altar, lighting the incense and offering a prayer to Rex Lapis. He conducted each step of the ceremony with grace befitting one who hold a position among the Liyue Qixing. Then—

Light burst out from the main incense, splitting the sky apart. For a moment, Venti had to shield his eyes with a hand, the light so bright that even a god such as him had to look away for a second. He could feel pinpricks of pure Geo energy on his skin, a warning of what’s to come.

The sighs of the wind gave way to the rumble of the earth.

Hearing the tell-tale rumble, Venti looked up, green eyes wide as he beheld Morax in all his draconic glory. He could never forget the awe and trepidation the oldest of the Seven inspired within him when he first met him for the first time on top of that mountain, but this was a whole different feeling he felt now. Perhaps it was due to the hushed, sacred atmosphere, the reverence in his worshippers eyes, the piles of luxurious offerings and incense to the god, or even Morax’s own heavy, divine presence, but suddenly Venti felt very small.

It was a humbling feeling. Despite his new status as a god, he was still so young compared to this ancient immortal.

What was he—a mere, lucky wind wisp—compared to this great, powerful dragon?

Then, amber eyes caught sight of him, and Venti forgot his self-deprecating thoughts.

They’re still warm.

A smiled bloomed on his lips. Venti waved ecstatically at him. Even across the distance between them, even with the formal front the other god was showing, somehow Venti could sense that Zhongli was happy.

Happy...simply because Venti was there.

The thought kept him warm throughout the ceremony.

The crowd slowly dissipated after Rex Lapis left, but Venti remained perched on top of the wall.

No guards approached him. Perhaps they didn’t notice him because his green clothing allowed him to blend with the leaves, or perhaps after their stressful guard duty was done, they could finally head back to the festivities to drink. Whatever the reason was, Venti was left alone.

Not for long though.

A man stepped forward from a corner, seemingly appearing out of thin air. His amber eyes gazed up at Venti, who waved and smiled at him.

“Hey there!” Venti grinned down at him, “Nice show, Zhongli.”

Zhongli chuckled, “It is what is expected now.”

“Doesn’t make it less amazing,” Venti glanced at the altar, where the offerings for Rex Lapis had disappeared, probably taken by the god to be stored in Taishan Mansion, “Your people really loves you, huh?”

“Yes,” simple and straight. The God of Liyue smiled, looking at the slowly leaving crowd with pride, “And I love them back.”

Venti laughed a little and wondered, briefly, if he would gain the same amount of adoration Zhongli got from his people if he took a more hands-on approach in his duties. But then, it would go against his principles of freedom, wouldn’t it?

It must be nice though, to be loved like that...

Shaking the thought away, Venti grinned at Zhongli, and shouted, “Catch!”

That was the only warning the other god got before Venti jumped, launching himself at him. Zhongli was surprised for a second, but he quickly recovered and caught him in his arms. Venti laughed breathlessly, leaning his head against his chest for a moment.

It feels nice to have someone catch me for once...

He enjoyed his travels, and he would certainly go on one again someday soon, but there was no one around to catch him when he fell, no one to share the pain and joy and experiencewith him.

Zhongli looked bemused by his actions, yet there was a faint smile on his lips. The God of Contracts gently lowered him to his feet. He drew back, but still placed a comforting hand on Venti’s shoulder, “Are you ok?”

When was the last time someone asked me that question?

Venti smiled up at him, “Yeah, I am.”

Zhongli smiled back, “That’s good. Then would you like to tell me of your journey over some food?”

That question—the offer to listen to him, to share his experiences with another. It was...

(Venti thought of the knights, his friends. But there was a gap between mortals and immortals, a thin line that was imperceptibly deep. He didn’t want to waste their limited time with his frivolousity.)

“Sure!” Venti grinned. His smile turned sly, “But you’re paying for it.”

Zhongli grimaced, reaching into his wallet to check if he had any mora. Venti laughed, feeling more and more grounded by the second.

Is this what coming home feels like?

How strange. He hadn’t even reached Mondstadt yet.

Chapter Text

Over two thousand years have passed, and many things have changed.

Venti sat beneath Morax’s Statue of the Seven in Dihua Marsh, leaning back against the stone column as he observed his surroundings. Over two thousands years ago—back when he was still a young god—the marsh used to be dry and fertile land. He remembered many days where he would sat under the boughs of a tree, singing songs for the glaze lilies, while Zhongli watched him. Yet the war caused landslides and flooded the region, sinking those lilies beneath the waters. Now, very few remembered what it once was.

Over two thousand years have passed, and only two of the original Seven remained.

Thinking about that fact felt strange for Venti. He was the second oldest of the Seven, with only Zhongli beating him by several thousands of years, and yet he couldn’t help but occasionally feel like that small wind wisp. Sometimes, it felt unreal. He didn’t feel like he had changed, but surely he must have, right?

Where had all the time gone?

Venti pulled his knees to his chest, draping his arms over his legs to ward the chill of the night. After saying farewell to the Traveller, he had immediately made his way to the closest Morax’s Statue to warn his oldest friend. The metaphysical gap in his chest where his Gnosis once was felt cold, still slightly chilled from the Eight Harbinger’s attack.

He wondered what the Tsaritsa was planning.

Once, he could call her friend. Now, five hundred years after that cataclysm, he could only call her a stranger.

Another thing that had changed over the years.

Movement from the corner of his eyes caught his attention. Someone in black approached him, and he stiffened, ready to summon his bow and fight if needed be. But the figure stopped beside him and simply took off his coat to drape it over Venti’s form.

“You’ll get cold,” Zhongli said.

Venti smiled, a tad weakly as he drew the coat closer over his body, “I won’t. Remember what I’m a god of?”

“Freedom and Wind,” his old friend replied, sitting down next to him. Venti moved to lean against his side, preferring the warmth of the ancient immortal over the cold stone imitation behind him. Zhongli pressed back against him gently, peering down at his face with observant amber eyes, “But something is wrong. Are you alright?”

For a moment, Venti thought to lie to his friend. Perhaps smirk and say “I’m fine~” in his usual carefree way. But then he remembered that he could never deceive the God of Wealth and Commerce before, so it would be fruitless to try.

He sighed, pressing his forehead against Zhongli’s shoulder, “Here. Feel for yourself.”

He held one of the Geo Archon’s hands, feeling the calluses on the skin borne from millenniums of toil, and pressed it against his chest.

Zhongli looked confused for a moment, before his eyes widened. Venti could feel a hint of Geo energy coalescing in his hand and gently spreading through him, carefully checking his body. He allowed the earth magic to flow through him, burrowing his face into Zhongli’s coat to hide his blush.

It was a good thing that mind-reading wasn’t one of the Geo Archon’s many powers, and that even if it was the case, Zhongli wasn’t the type of person to invade another’s privacy for no good reason.

As much as Venti liked to act as if Zhongli using his powers on him was nothing, privately he would admit that it felt very...intimate. Geo energy brushed through his body, carefully slipping under the human guise of his old friend and onto the spirit underneath. Under the gentle consideration of the Geo Archon’s scrutiny, Venti felt as if Zhongli held his soul in the palm of his hand.

Thankfully, they have been friends long enough that this sort of intimacy does not need to be questioned, or else Venti feared that the older god would realise the Anemo Archon’s feelings for him.

Which would be quite troublesome, given that Venti didn’t even want to think about it.

“Your Gnosis,” he heard Zhongli breathed out, tone flat with shock as Geo energy slowly withdrew from his body, “It’s gone.”

Venti nodded, looking up at him now that his inspection was done, “Yeah, it was stolen by one of the Fatui Harbingers.”

Zhongli narrowed his eyes, “Which one?”

“The Eighth. Her name’s Signora, I think.”

Was it a trick of the moonlight, or did Venti saw a faint flicker of shock in his friend’s face at the name? When he peered up at him though, the expression he saw was a frown.

“I see...” Zhongli murmured, wrapping an arm around Venti and drawing him closer. Venti allowed himself to lean against his chest, hoping his reddened cheeks were hidden beneath the dark coat and the night. Zhongli continued as if he didn’t notice anything, “How are you feeling, Venti?”

His old friend could be quite insensitive and dense when it came to emotions, but he did care, and his worry was genuine as he gently held Venti. Venti sighed, looking up at him with a faint smile, “I’m...fine, I think. It was a shock when it happened, but I felt better after some time in Windrise. It just feels...strange, to no longer have my Gnosis.”

Zhongli nodded, as solemn as ever, “How does it feel to no longer have your Gnosis?”

Venti thought of it for a moment, before he answered, “It’s strange but not...bad, I think. I’ve never cared about the power it represents, and you yourself know how I handle the duties it demanded of me. It’s just been a part of me for so long that its absence is noticeable, but I think I’ll get over it after a while.”

“I see,” a hand moved to pat his head. A familiar, comforting gesture. Venti smiled slightly, leaning against the gloved palm as Zhongli’s deep voice murmured, “As long as you are safe.”

He nodded, closing his eyes as he enjoyed his friend’s calm presence. It was a similar, yet different feeling to the peace he felt whenever he was in Windrise. There, he felt the refreshing Anemo power rejuvenating him, his bond between the land and Vennessa lifting his spirits up. Here, the ever-present Geo energy carefully hidden under Zhongli’s slim frame felt like a solid shelter against the elements, promising a safe haven for him to rest his wings.

It felt good. Really good.

Without intending to, Venti fell asleep in Zhongli’s arms.

Zhongli watched as Venti drifted to sleep and thought, How things changed...

Over two thousand years ago, this little god in his arms was young, looking up at him with bright eyes and a happy smile, lifting a picnic basket up as an offer of friendship.

For the most part, Venti seemed unchanged. His appearance was still the same as ever, as well as his general personality. He still loved freedom, he was still kind and gentle, he still looked at him with bright eyes and a smile, but...

Zhongli couldn’t exactly put his finger on when or how, but he knew that somewhere along the way, Venti had changed.

Nothing lasts forever. Even rocks will erode under water and wind.

That was simply the nature of things, Zhongli knew. Things changed, for better or worse, and no force on earth could stop it, not even the divine. That was why he found the Electro Archon’s pursuit for eternity laughable and foolish.

Then again, he was over six thousand years old. He has perspective that she—or anyone else, for that matter—would never understand.

His feelings for a certain god have also changed.

Zhongli brushed back the bangs covering Venti’s eyes, smiling down at him. A tenderness that, long ago, he thought he would never feel again welled up inside him, causing him to gently wrap his arms around the Anemo Archon and subtly moved him onto his lap, drawing him closer to him. He leaned back against his Statue of the Seven, sighing contentedly as he placed his chin over Venti’s head.

Venti only murmured under his breath, instinctively burrowing his head to Zhongli’s chest, and continued slumbering on.

He thought back to that fateful Lantern Festival hundreds of years ago. On that day, amidst the glow of the lanterns and under the ethereal light of the stars, Zhongli had realised for the first time that he was in love.

But what right does the God of Contracts have to bind the God of Freedom?

The earth could force the wind to change directions, but it could never contain it. To contain the wind would mean killing it, turning it into nothing more than still air. Zhongli could never do that to Venti.

Besides, Venti had never shown interest in romantic relationships, preferring the simplicity and deep bonds of friendship, and Zhongli respected that. Romance came with its own sorrows and complications, an entanglement of passions and emotions that was its own set of complicated contracts and chains. Friendship, in contrast, was simpler, though it also contained its own brand of sorrows and partings. Many may believed that romantic love is deeper than friendship, but Zhongli knew otherwise.

Friendship and romance were simply facets of that grand emotion we call love, and neither was necessarily better than the other.

Over two thousand years have passed, yet their friendship remained.

That perhaps was the biggest reason Zhongli never confessed. Though he knew that things changed with time, he hoped that their relationship would stand forever. Ha, the Geo Archon laughed snidely at himself, and I say that Baal’s pursuit for eternity is foolish...

The God of Contracts wishing to bind the God of Freedom, the earth hoping to contain the wind, longing to change the nature of their relationship while at the same time rejecting every chance to...

Zhongli tilted his head back, pressing the back of his head against the stone, and laughed softly at himself.

Ah, how things have changed...

As he held Venti closer to his chest, he thought back to the deal he made with the Tsaritsa. If all went according to plan, it would be the last contract he would sign as Morax, the God of Contracts. It would be the end to this long, long chapter of his life as the Geo Archon, and the beginning of a new one as Zhongli.

Would he still be here by my side then...?

He looked down at the sleeping Anemo Archon. A smile that wasn’t self-deprecating curled on his lips as he cupped the other’s cheek, absently tracing patterns on it with a gloved finger. How small and light, seemingly so fragile that a stray breeze might break him, yet Zhongli knew that the strength hidden inside him could change a country.

It had changed him, after all.

I hope, Zhongli thought as he pressed a soft kiss against Venti’s forehead, that you will forgive me for my deception.

Chapter Text

The wind brought news of Morax’s death.

Barbatos was surprised when he heard this. Surely, he had warned his dear friend? Had Morax not taken the necessary precautions for the Rite of Descension? But no, he couldn’t imagine his ancient friend to be anything less than prepared, so that must meant that whoever killed Morax had outwitted him.

(He remembered that night in Dihua Marsh, cradled carefully within strong, yet gentle arms that kept him warm while he slept...and listening to the heart that had continuously beat for over six thousand years, reassuring in its constancy.)

All things changed, and even the earth could not remain immutable. Nothing was permanent in this world, not even the gods.

And yet, Barbatos thought that he would be the one thing that would always be there.

When Barbatos heard news of Morax’s death, he felt grief. Then, rage.

What an unfamiliar feeling for the carefree god...

Yet that rage simmered within his chest, swirling with regret and guilt, until it turned his gentle breeze into a fierce maelstrom.

He spent a day absorbing the news he heard from the Liyuean merchants, sitting underneath the tree in Windrise to soak in its tranquility one last time before the storm hits. Anemo energy swirled around him, coalescing into small, firefly-like teal glow, before being absorbed into him. It would not replace the power he lost with his Gnosis, but it would be enough.

The next day, he departed to Liyue alone.

Barbatos might be the weakest Archon, and he might have lost his Gnosis, but he was still a god. The wind that flowed through Mondstadt was gentle, but once, long ago, it had been a storm that had flatten cliffs and valleys, transforming the previously frigid terrain into the rolling green hills it now was. Though his temper was slow to rise, once it did, then it was a gale capable of uprooting even the greatest of trees.

Blood must be paid from those who dared harmed his dear friend.

The first place he stopped at was the Statue of the Seven at Dihua Marsh.

That night felt like it had happened so many years ago, when in truth only a few days had passed. Now he had returned in the middle of the night once again, staring up at the statue of his friend. Venti tried to find the warmth he had felt in Zhongli’s presence within the stone’s gaze, and found none.

It was just a statue. Just a lump of rock. No matter how much it resembled his dear friend, it wasn’t him.

Venti closed his eyes and bit his lip, choking back a sob.

“H-Hey...” Venti greeted half-cheerily, trying to put his usual smile on his face, “I heard something ridiculous in Mondstadt, but...but there’s no way that’s true, right? Those merchants gotta be lying, right? You-you can’t be...”

The stone did not reply. It did not even glow to acknowledge his words.

Venti pressed his forehead against the stone column, a fist pressed against its base. His hands were shaking as he clenched his eyes shut. Tears welled up behind his eyelids, but he fought to keep them in check.

“There’s no way you can be dead...right?” He asked again, praying that the statue would carry his words to wherever his friend was, that Zhongli would suddenly appear behind him and tell him that it was all a lie or a prank or...or something, “You’re the oldest of us, possibly even the strongest. You can’t be—you can’t be dead!?”

Once more, the statue did not reply.

“Answer me!” Venti glared up at the figure seated on the stone throne, looking down over the earth without his friend’s familiar warmth, “Rex Lapis! Morax! Answer me!”

The stone remained silent, and the wind that blew coldly across the night carried no answers.

Venti slowly slid to his knees, forehead pressed against the column as tears finally slid down his cheeks.

“Zhongli...” he quietly sobbed, pleading, “...answer me. Please...”

There were no answers from the earth, and the wind was but a small comfort to the lonely god’s grief. The moon and stars above were the only witness to the small deity’s tears, as he realised that—at last—he was the only one left.

There were words he wished he had said. A confession on his lips that he could never voice, for fear that he would lose one of the only constants in his life. But he lost him regardless, so what was the point in holding back?

Still, the confession remained stuck in his throat, buried beneath his sobs. In the end, the only message the stone statue received were that of tears.

The night passed in quiet grief.

In Liyue Harbour, an ancient immortal saw and heard everything from a stone statue’s senses.

“Eh? Mr. Zhongli, where are you going?” Xiangling asked when she saw the familiar darkly-clothed patron leaving, “You haven’t finished your food!”

“I’m sorry,” the god tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace, “I have business to attend to.”

It was a lie, but the cheerful chef did not question him. With a bright smile reminiscent of a certain friend, the young chef bid him farewell. Zhongli nodded, stepping out of Wanmin Restaurant and into the night.

Outside, the wind was cold, but he supposed he deserved that.

I’m sorry...but it is too late to stop anything now.

He would have a meeting with Ningguang soon, for the right to hold the Rite of Parting. Then another meeting with Childe for the fundings to conduct it. Finally, a meeting with a certain Traveller, whose appearance had shaken their placid world.

Just a little more...a little more until I’m...

Zhongli stared up at the moon, and thought of cecilias lit up by lantern lights.

Venti’s next stop was at Jueyun Karst.

Thousands of years ago, the Geo Archon had given him permission to come and go as he pleased through the realm of the adepti. It was a sign of trust, perhaps, and friendship. Now, Moon Carver met him at the base of the mountains and sighed.

“You have heard the news,” the adeptus stated, not needing to ask, “It is as you’ve heard. Rex Lapis is dead.”

Though he had already known it, hearing it said again by someone who knew Zhongli sent another stab through his heart. Venti took a deep breath, keeping his emotions in check. Quietly, he asked, “Do you know who did it?”

Moon Carver shook his head, “We do not know yet. The Liyue Qixing are investigating it now,” there was a frown on his deer face as the adeptus glanced at something over Venti’s shoulders, “The Millelith had recently arrived here, trying to trespass on adepti land in order to chase down a certain Traveller who got unwillingly caught up in this. She was able to beat them back, however.”

“Lumine?” His breath was caught in his throat, “She was here?”

The deer adeptus nodded, “Yes, she came bearing the Sigil of Permission and told us her story. It was through her that we learnt of Rex Lapis’s parting.”

She was here? More than that, she saw Zhongli’s death? Venti asked, “Where is she now?”

“After she had notified the other adepti of Rex Lapis’s parting, she had returned to Liyue. After that, this one does not know.”

Venti nodded, thoughts spinning wildly. If she saw the Rite of Descension first hand, then perhaps she knew who killed Zhongli, or at least have more information about it. “Thank you, Moon Carver,” the Anemo Archon said, turning to leave, “I’m sorry, but I must leave now.”

Moon Carver nodded. “Farewell Lord Barbatos,” the immortal deer replied gravely, “And...This one is sorry for your loss.”

Venti frowned, “I should be the one saying that to you. You’ve known him for far longer than I.”

“Perhaps, but you were the one he cared for the most...and vice versa.”

Before Venti could mull over his words, Moon Carver left.

On the way to Liyue Harbour, he was ambushed by some Fatui agents.

For a brief moment, Venti thought that Signora had sent some of her men to finish him off. She had already got his Gnosis, so what use was he alive? Though he didn’t think that the Tsaritsa wanted him dead, but then again, he didn’t think she would have his Gnosis stolen as well...

It turned out, however, that these agents simply assumed he was a wandering bard.

“Gentlemen,” Venti tried to appeal to them, while drawing up Anemo power within him, “I am simply a penniless, passing bard. Surely, I have nothing of value for ones such as yourself. Therefore, I ask you to please let me pass.”

“No,” one of them replied with a sneer. He wore a hood that easily blended with the night, “Pay up or die. You can’t run from debt.”

“As I recall, I have no debt towards the Fatui or Snezhnaya,” Venti replied mildly, eyeing at a geomancer nearby and a large man with an electric hammer, gauging their strength against his own, “And this is Liyue, the land of the Geo Archon. Your Tsaritsa has no power here.”

The agent laughed, “Hah, Rex Lapis is dead. Soon this land will belong to the Tsaritsa!”

That—!!!

A harsh gale slapped the agent, sending him crashing against some nearby rocks. He did not move again.

“You!” A female, Electro mage screeched at him, “You have chosen death!”

“No,” Venti replied, as calm as the eye of a storm. Anemo energy swirled at his fingertips as he summoned his bow, “You have chosen death.”

The ensuing fight could not be described as a battle, but a massacre.

It was not worth describing save for in the briefest passages: The Fatui agents attacked him, thinking that he was nothing more than a bard with an Anemo Vision. He swiftly proved them otherwise, and they died knowing the wrath of one who had defeated the God of Storms.

The land which they fought was stained with blood, swirling outwards like marks left by a tornado. Pieces of their bodies laid scattered here and there, to be food for the wildlife and fertiliser for the soil. Of the Anemo Archon, there was not even a single drop of blood on him.

Barbatos travelled to Liyue Harbour unhindered.

He met her while she was looking for someone to make perfumes, of all things.

Pasting a grin on his face, Venti ran up to the Traveller, cheerily greeting her, “Hey there! Long time no see, Lumine!”

The Traveller’s eyes widened as she paused in her steps, her fairy companion turning beside her, “Venti? It’s nice to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“Yeah,” Paimon tilted her head as she hovered next to Lumine, “Isn’t Mondstadt your area?”

“Hahaha, just because the Archons each have their own regions doesn’t mean we can’t visit other countries from time to time,” Venti answered, “I came here because I heard some interesting news.”

Understanding flashed through Lumine’s eyes, “You’ve heard of Rex Lapis’s death.”

Venti nodded, “Yeah, and I thought to investigate it myself. There’s no way that blockhead can just up and die so easily.”

“Oh yeah, both of you are Archons,” Paimon chimed in “Were you two friends?”

“We were,” his smile faded as he gazed at the streets around them, seeing not the present, but the past where Zhongli had showed him around his city, “We knew each other well. A few days before the Rite of Descension, I even warned him of the Fatui, but somehow, he still...”

He trailed off, glancing away from memory to look at Lumine. The Traveller’s eyes held empathy, her golden gaze warm and sorrowful as she murmured, “I’m sorry...”

Ah, of course. She knows loss too.

Venti smiled weakly, “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise.”

Lumine shook her head, “I’m sorry that we can’t help you with your investigation though. It happened so fast. One moment, he was descending from the skies, and in the next, he had crashed onto the earth.”

“Yeah, and after that we got chased by the Millelith,” Paimon added, “That’s when we met Childe. He helped us escape, gave us the Sigil of Permission and told us to meet with the adepti in Jueyun Karst so that they can prove our innocence.”

“Childe? Who’s that?”

“Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers,” Paimon answered, glancing around warily before stage-whispering, “He’s kinda shady, to be honest. He helped us escape from the Millelith and offered us treasures from the Northland Bank several times, but Lumine think he’s hiding something.”

“He’s most likely using us to get to Rex Lapis’s body,” Lumine murmured, “I don’t really like it, but this is the only lead we got. If we want to examine the Exuvia, then we need to do this Rite of Parting, otherwise the Qixing won’t let us go anywhere near it.”

Childe, another Harbinger. The Rite of Parting. Exuvia, the name of Zhongli’s draconic form, hidden by the Liyue Qixing. Venti frowned as he absorbed all this information.

“If you’re planning on doing the Rite of Parting, then let me help you,” Venti said, “I sometimes helped Rex Lapis conduct the Rite of Parting when one of his adepti died. I know what to do.”

“Thank you,” Lumine agreed, “Right now, we need to make some perfume to offer to Rex Lapis. After that, we have to meet up with the person who is organising the rite by the Statue of the Seven to the north of Liyue Harbour.”

“Perfume, eh,” Venti thought for a second, “While I don’t know how to make them, I do know which one he prefers. He had always been more partial to mature and subtle scents.”

“Oh, is mature and elegant women his type?” Paimon asked.

Venti laughed, ignoring the hurt that spiked in his heart, “Yeah, it is.”

That was one of the reasons why he never confessed. He knew that Zhongli preferred those who were mature, dutiful and elegant. Probably also one who was well-versed in Liyue’s traditions and extremely responsible. In other words, the complete opposite of Venti.

Zhongli never looked at him with that kind of interest. Venti knew better than to try.

“Alright!” He forcibly cheered himself up. It wouldn’t do to look upset in front of his friends. He grinned at Lumine and Paimon, “So, we need to look for someone who can make perfumes. Perhaps we should look for women who smell particularly nice?”

He hadn’t planned on arranging the Rite of Parting when he decided to head to Liyue, but Venti thought it would be good for him to help. How many times had he missed a friend’s death because he was away, only to regret it when he was later informed of their passing? Besides, this was the least he could do for Zhongli after everything the Lord of Geo had done for him...

The pain, sorrow, and regrets would linger for many years, but at least he would get some closure.

When he saw his friend’s body, Venti silently promised to himself, he would tell him the words that were left unsaid.

That was not what happened.

As they walked up the path to Morax’s Statue, Venti spotted a familiar, darkly-clothed figure. He blinked, heart racing. It couldn’t be.

His suspicions were confirmed the next second when Paimon flew up to that figure, exclaiming, “Mr. Zhongli, we’re here!”

Venti froze, hearing the name. At the same time, Zhongli turned from his examination of his own statue and saw the green bard.

Stunned viridian eyes locked with shocked amber. The moment seemed to stretched silently. Then—

“YOU!”

Chapter Text

Venti couldn’t believe what he saw: his best friend—who he thought was dead—was standing right in front of him alive.

A mixture of emotions welled up inside him: grief, rage, sorrow, relief—all fighting for dominance within him. Yet the only think he could think of was:

Why?

Why did he lie to him? Why did pretend to be dead? Why didn’t he tell him the truth?

Clenching his fists, the Anemo Archon turned away from the darkly-clad man, gritting his teeth and fighting back frustrated tears. Lumine and Paimon both voiced their concerns, but he couldn’t hear them over the thoughts raging inside his head. He stomped away, barely stamping down on his Anemo powers lest he accidentally created a storm in his anger.

Not that it helped much; the area around them had became extremely windy. Harsh gale slapped against the rocks, grinding down on them and threatening to tear them away. Lumine had to stepped back and used her Geo powers to keep her feet firmly on the ground, holding tightly onto Paimon or else the little guide would be swept away by the wind.

Venti was heading down back to the path towards Liyue Harbour when he heard someone shouting against his gale.

“Wait! Ve—Venti, wait!”

He slowed his steps, hearing the familiar voice, though he still stared straight ahead instead of bothering to acknowledge the call. A hand gripped his wrist, tugging it lightly but firmly so that he had to turn and face him. Venti scowled, the expression jarring on his usually cheerful face.

“Why?” He asked, voice like a slicing wind. The gale around them has slowed somewhat, yet no less dangerous as he turned it into a solid dome that surrounded them. Nobody would be able to enter or listen into the center of the storm that the Anemo Archon had created.

Zhongli, to his credit, did not looked startled by the harsh tone. His usual tidy appearance was mussed by the wind—some hair strands even escaping the neat ponytail he wore—but he looked calm nonetheless. It only served to pissed off Venti more.

Of course this little wind wouldn’t scare him, Venti couldn’t help but think angrily, After all, he had faced far worse gods than I.

“I have my reasons,” the Geo Archon said, his voice as deep as the gravel of the earth.

“It better be good ones,” Venti tugged his hand back, crossing his arms as he glared up at him. The Lord of Geo still looked calm.

“I can’t tell you.”

SMACK

“Uff....” Zhongli doubled over, holding his stomach after Venti punched him with an Anemo-infused punch. A flicker of pain cracked through his usual stoic facade, but it disappeared in a second, “I suppose I deserve that.”

“You think!?” Venti clenched his fists, glaring at him. Anemo energy swirled around him, but he knew that no amount of power he could muster would do more than cause the god in front of him to flinch. Barbatos may be an Archon, but he had always been the weakest of the Seven, and in general was more used to inspiring others with his songs than fighting head-on.

Now he had also lost his Gnosis. Even an adepti from Liyue could probably beat him if they tried.

Still, it didn’t mean he couldn’t punch some sense into his friend.

“Why did you lie to me!?” He asked, fighting back tears, “I thought you died. I thought that it was my fault because I didn’t do anything more than to warn you. I thought that I would never see you again and that I—I’m—”

Venti turned away, quickly wiping away his tears. He hoped that Zhongli didn’t see that.

“I...I thought I was the last one...” He sobbed, looking away, “I thought that...that I would never be able to hang out with you anymore, or go to Lantern Festivals with you, or to the Ludi Harpastum, or drink wine together or-or—!”

He couldn’t finish his words because arms wrapped around him, drawing him close to a warm embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he heard Zhongli’s deep voice murmured beside his ear, Venti having burrowed his face to the earth god’s chest to hide his tears. The wind god felt a hand gently stroked his hair, the gesture comfortingly familiar, “I did not meant to hurt you. It was never my intention to make you upset.”

“Yeah, well, it happened anyway,” Venti mumbled into the other’s chest, pounding his torso with Anemo-infused fists to emphasise each words, “You’re as dumb, dense, and insensitive as always, you blockhead.”

He felt, more than heard, Zhongli chuckle, the sound reverbating from his chest. The idiot didn’t even have the decency to pretend to be hurt, “Yes, that I am.”

“Dumbass,” Venti stated. Perhaps it was the arms around him, grounding him down to the earth, or maybe it was simply Zhongli’s presence—he had always been a little weak around him—but Venti felt a little bit calmer now. At least, he didn’t feel like he would break down into tears anytime soon, “Why can’t you tell me?”

He felt Zhongli held him closer, placing his chin over the wind god’s head as he answered, “Because you will ruin it.”

SLAP

To his credit, the Geo Archon did not looked stunned. Unfortunately, that did little to stem the Anemo Archon’s anger.

“So,” Venti said, voice dangerously low as he glared up at him, “You let me believe you’re dead because you didn’t trust me?”

He could see his friend’s jaw clenched, “That is not what I mean.”

“Then what exactly do you mean!?” Venti shouted, clutching the other’s collar, “Because that’s what it sounds like to me!”

“I trust you,” Zhongli stated, tone as deep and still as the earth beneath their feet. He pulled back a little, gazing at Venti with calm amber eyes, “However, I know that you have a tendency to meddle if you do not like the way things go, and I have planned this for far too long to allow anyone to ruin it.”

“You—!” Venti stepped back from his embrace, eyes wide as he looked at his friend. The Geo Archon stared at him coolly, the warmth he knew of buried beneath a stone-like cor lapis gaze. He knew the man who stood in front of him now, the god who faced down demons and gods to safeguard his realm.

This was Morax, Lord of Geo and the God of Contracts.

Venti knew, then, that there was no talking to him.

For the will of the Geo Archon was as hard as rock, his promise as solid as stone. This was the deity who had raised the sea level with his will and summoned meteors to change the terrain. The God of Contracts who traded not with earthly possessions such as mora or goods, but with abstracts such as knowledge, memories, and lives.

But Barbatos was a god too.

Barbatos straightened, fists to his sides as he gazed steadily at him. Tears no longer fell from his eyes as he pushed his feelings down. With as much calm as he could muster, the Anemo Archon forced himself to think about the situation.

One: Morax had planned to fake his death.

Two: He had planned this for a long time.

Three: The Geo Archon cared for Liyue above all else. He would not have faked his death if he did not believe it wouldn’t benefit Liyue in some way.

The wind stilled for a moment as Barbatos opened his eyes, irises glowing Anemo-green.

“You are planning on testing them,” The Anemo Archon stated, “You have planned your death to test the people of Liyue, to see for yourself what they can achieve without your presence.”

A smile curled over the other god’s lips. It was neither cruel nor cold, but it lacked the warmth he associated with Zhongli. The Geo Archon regarded him with the same careful consideration he gave to the precious gems of his realm, or the lives he balanced on his scales to advance Liyue’s prosperity.

Barbatos held his ground, staring at him.

“That is correct,” Morax nodded, “...Barbatos.”

Ah, Barbatos thought, so he noticed too.

Fine. Two can play at this game.

“...I suppose I should ask ‘why’ you did that,” Barbatos quietly spoke, “But I don’t have to. So, you have finally decided to put down your burdens, Morax.”

For a moment, the stone in that amber gaze cracked, revealing the sliver of warmth that was Zhongli. But then Morax blinked, and the moment passed.

“You understand,” Morax replied solemnly, “Then you know why this is so important to me.”

“I understand alright,” Barbatos frowned, turning, “That does not mean I like your methods.”

Before the other god could say another word, the Anemo Archon dismissed the miniature storm barrier and became one with the wind, his form disappearing in a firefly-like teal swirl.

One thing should be stated clearly: Barbatos—Venti—does not hate Morax.

He considered it foolish and hypocritical for him to hate that aspect of the Geo Archon. Morax and Zhongli were, after all, equal parts of the same person. To hate one would be to hate the other.

(And hate was the last thing he felt towards him.)

It was not like he didn’t understand why either. He had seen the cracks in his friend’s usual stoic temperament, the way he seemed to gaze into the distance far more often than usual. He knew that this was a long time in coming, and had even asked the God of Contracts more than once if he was truly happy being bound to his duties. Each time he asked, Morax would have said ‘yes’ but now, Venti has a feeling that he would say ‘no’.

In any other situation, Venti would be proud and happy that his friend had finally decided to rest.

However, this came at the heels of a fake death, refusal to trust him with his plans, and the realisation that Morax had most likely seen and heard him cry in front of his Statue at Dihua Marsh and still did nothing. Venti was, quite honestly, too angry to feel happy for his friend.

Stupid, insensitive brute, Venti grumbled as he reformed himself in an alley inside Liyue Harbour. He stomped out of the alley, glaring at the ground, I should just leave if he doesn’t trust me so much. It’s not like he’ll need me anyway.

That was true. If he knew anything about Morax, it was that he fully deserved the titles of God of Contracts, Commerce, and—to the locals—War. The god had lived for over six thousands years and faced horrors even Venti could scarcely imagine. If he wanted to, the Geo Archon could be every bit as cunning as one who was the god of those three areas should be.

There was really no need for Venti to be there. Whatever plot Morax had planned, if he hadn’t informed the Anemo Archon of it, then that meant he didn’t need him. On the contrary, Venti’s presence may even hindered it.

And that wasn’t what Venti wanted. As angry as he was towards the other god, Venti could acknowledge that the reasons behind his actions were good, or at the very least, Morax did not intend to cause harm to anyone. All Morax wanted was to rest, to finally set down the burden that was Liyue from his shoulders and be free.

As the God of Freedom, Venti—Barbatos—could not fault him for that.

I can still be mad at him for his methods though. Faking your own death? That’s way too much!

Yet even as he thought that, the wind god sighed.

It wasn’t like he didn’t understand where Morax was coming from. Whatever plan he has, no matter how extreme it may be to Venti’s point of view, he knew that his friend would not allow Liyue to come to any true harm. If it was necessary, then Morax would step in, like he always did, and continued on being the Geo Archon.

He would continue carrying this burden of duty, until one day, he would collapse under it.

That was not what Venti wanted either.

As he walked through the streets of Liyue, his anger towards the other god slowly dissipated. From the beginning, Venti was never the type to hold a grudge anyway, and as he mulled over the issue, he could feel the sting of betrayal quietly draining away.

Perspective, Venti knew, was something Morax had difficulty in. He was not like Venti or Guizhong, who understood mortal plights easily. Perhaps it was due to his age or the experiences he had, but Morax often has trouble aligning his values with mortals’ ones. He was a person—a god—who was so used to godhood that all he could see most of the time was the big picture, and the details of the individuals involved in his plans often slipped him by.

That does not mean he didn’t try.

Oh, did Morax try alright.

Venti suspected that was one of the reasons he was friends with himself and Guizhong. They have perspective which he lacked, and he was always eager to learn from them. Venti remembered all the times Morax—Zhongli—would sit next to him as he sang, closing his eyes and trying to understand how his words moved hearts. How the earth god would sometimes reach out to Venti when planning a new policy or prediction for Liyue, asking him what he thought about this and that and how it could affect mortal lives on an individual level.

That was also one of the reason why Morax often disguised himself among his people to begin with.

The Anemo Archon stopped to lean against a wall, closing his eyes. Suddenly, he felt very tired. Ah, he thought, what a troublesome friend I have...

But he would not change it for the world.

The Geo Archon was someone who was both incredibly selfish, and incredibly selfless at the same time. He would never make a deal that didn’t benefit him in some way, yet at the same token he would never agree to something that was one-sidedly in his favour. No matter what, he would always strive to make sure whatever contract he made would lead to a win-win situation.

He was kind, fair, and just, but Venti also knew that he carried a god’s perspective on those things, which led to many mortals calling him cold and unfeeling.

Neither purely good nor purely evil. Morax, Rex Lapis, Zhongli—whatever name he decided on—was someone who just...was.

He was just him, and Venti loved him—the good, the bad, and everything in between.

“I’m still mad at him though...” Venti grumbled to himself, crossing his arms petulantly, thinking, I’m not going to let this go that easily.

Just because he understood, does not make it any easier for him to accept.

And honestly, Venti thought he has every right to be mad at that insensitive, dense, stubborn rockhead.

But what should I do...?

He could leave...but no. Now that Venti had figured out his plans, he couldn’t just go. Not when there might be a chance whatever plan Morax had could backfire on him.

(Although, he privately admitted, that was very unlikely.)

So that meant...he would stay. He would help Morax plan his own funeral, and stand by him through it all. Even though he knew he wasn’t necessary, even though he knew that his presence might mess up his plans, Venti would stay. Perhaps he chose to do so out of selfishness, out of a desire to simply be there for his friend.

But that was okay, right? Selfishness was a human trait.

Venti nodded, mind made up. As he pushed himself off the wall, his eyes caught sight of a certain object sitting in an antique store.

Oh? A mischievous smirk adorned his lips, embers of anger still festering in his heart, This would make a nice ‘gift’.

Lumine had told Venti that the Rite of Parting would be held at Yujing Terrace, on the same spot where Rex Lapis usually descended. That was where Venti was headed after he bought his ‘gift’. With luck, he would meet his friends there.

He saw them at the center of the plaza. Zhongli was placing a certain Cleansing Bell on top of a box while Lumine and Paimon noticed his arrival.

“Hey, Venti!” Paimon waved cheerily, “There you are! Are you okay? You left so suddenly...”

Venti smiled thinly, “I forgot to buy something.”

“Eh?” The little guide tilted her head, peering down to look at the object in his hands, “Is that a...?”

“Here,” Venti held out the object to Zhongli. Smiling, his eyes narrowed as he stated, “It’s a gift for you.”

Zhongli stared at it, “...That’s a clock.”

He continued smiling, yet his tone was flat, as if daring the other god to refuse his ‘gift’, “I know.”

“Umm...” Lumine glanced at the two tensed Archons, “I’m not sure what’s going on...”

“Paimon knows!” Said Paimon, hovering closer to the Traveller, “In the local language of Liyue, the term ‘giving a clock’ is sòng zhōng (送钟) which sounds very similar to the term for the act of attending another person’s funeral, or in other words, ‘to send off for one’s end’, which is sòngzhōng (送终). That is why it’s considered taboo to give a Liyuean a clock.”

Lumine summarised it, “So basically, giving a Liyuean a clock is the same as telling them to die?”

“That is correct,” Zhongli nodded, accepting the clock. He chuckled, “Normally, I would refuse, but I understand the sentiment behind this gift. I humbly accept it.”

“Hmph,” Venti crossed his arms, no longer smiling. He glared at him, “Next time you ‘die’, I’ll make sure to be the one to bury you.”

Zhongli smiled at him, amused but also sincere, “Thank you. I’ll hold you to that.”

Staring at the two men, Paimon tilted her head, “Uhh...Paimon doesn’t get it...why is Venti so angry at Mr. Zhongli?”

Lumine sighed, “Let’s just say that Zhongli played a very mean prank on Venti.”

“Umm...Paimon still doesn’t get it, but okay!”

Chapter Text

The first time Venti realised he was in love, it was during a Ludi Harpastum a few centuries ago.

He had dragged Zhongli away from his duties in Liyue, somehow managing to persuade him with promises of alcohol and fun. To be honest though, he suspected that Guizhong had a hand in it too. If it had only been him, then there was no way that workaholic would have accepted his invitation to attend Mondstadt’s yearly festival.

They were on the fairgrounds, the scent of wine, sticky honey roast and grilled skewers permeating the air around them, warming the night’s cold breeze. The moon shone gently on them as the happy shouts and smiles of the people match the brilliance of the stars. Torches cast their warm hues on the evening fair, the flickering red and orange bringing out the gold in Zhongli’s eyes.

Venti had always noticed his eyes most of all.

At that moment, they were playing Pile ‘Em Up. Zhongli had looked skeptical at first, but after a little nudging by Venti, the two had decided to play. As they were haphazardly stacking cheese and fish into a pile, Venti had turned, a smile on his lips and a joke ready to be cracked when—

He saw him.

In retrospect, there was nothing special or unusual about that moment, yet it was seared into his mind nonetheless, like the image of his long-lost first friend. Zhongli was holding an apple in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other, brows furrowed and lips pursed into a thoughtful frown as the fires from the torches brought out the gold in his warm amber eyes. He looked so adorably confused that for a moment, Venti couldn’t breathe.

I love him.

The moment those words rang inside his head, Venti immediately silenced it.

Loving Zhongli was usually easy for Venti, especially in recent times when there was no wars to be fought and Morax didn’t need to make an appearance outside of the Rite of Descension. Sometimes though, it was hard.

He was still mad that his friend didn’t tell him the truth, and the sting from his lack of trust in Venti still lingered in his heart. Not to mention that Zhongli had most likely seen and heard him break down in front of his Statue and did nothing. Venti was honestly still more than a little angry right now.

Yet he still went along with Zhongli’s plan, if only to be there by his side in case he needed it.

Venti doubted he was necessary. Still, Zhongli had accepted his ‘gift’ and didn’t ask him to leave, so he assumed that he was fine with the wind god’s presence. If anything, it looked like Zhongli was happy that Venti was there.

Venti was happy too, a little—if only because he was always happy to be with his friend—but like hell would he admit that right now.

Currently they had finished their tasks for the day and were eating at the Third-Round Knockout restaurant. Lumine and Paimon had been with them too, but they were called by an emissary of the Liyue Qixing and told to go to the Jade Chamber. Venti wished them luck; the rumours he had heard from the wind about the Tianquan had painted her as a formidable woman.

(Silently, after Lumine and Paimon left, Venti raised a discreet wind barrier around them, blocking the sounds from their table from being heard. Perhaps he was being a little bit paranoid, but he knew of the saying that went around Liyue: The walls have ears. Better safe than sorry.)

He was aware that Zhongli was staring at him, but he made no move to acknowledge it. Let that blockhead simmer in the awkwardness for a bit.

It was only after he finished his cake (why did it taste blander than usual? Venti wondered), that Zhongli cleared his throat, trying to draw his attention. Venti ignored him, looking at the storyteller instead.

“Venti,” his friend spoke when it seemed cleared that Venti wouldn’t, “I understand that you are angry at me.”

Said wind god slid an unimpressed gaze at him, tone flat, “Oh, you ‘understand’?”

Was it just his imagination, or did Zhongli flinched?

“...Poor choice of words, I admit,” the Geo Archon glanced at the table between them. Venti frowned; that meek look didn’t fit his usually stoic and unflappable friend. His deep voice was soft, “You know me. You know how I am. I cannot make any excuses on that.”

He sighed, “Yeah, I know. You’ve always been this way.”

His friend could be gentle and kind, but he could be quite oblivious to the nuances of human emotions.

“...I do not wish to be this way,” Zhongli murmured, drawing Venti’s attention, “I wish to change. To rest. That is why this is necessary.”

“You could have told me though,” Venti pointed out, his tone much softer than he thought, “That night, in Dihua Marsh. I was waiting for you to come.”

“I know,” Zhongli said sincerely, looking at him in the eyes, “I’m sorry.”

It was in Venti’s nature to not hold grudges, for to hold them would create a chain binding the God of Freedom. Furthermore, the one asking for forgiveness was Zhongli. He could never really refuse him, especially not when he looked like that.

A six thousand years old god should not be allowed to do puppy-dog eyes, Venti thought, heart wavering, Especially with those brilliant amber eyes.

“...Don’t do this again,” he finally relented with a sigh, “If you do, I’ll be the one who kills you for real.”

A useless threat, and blatantly untrue. He would never do that to him; not that he could anyway. Zhongli’s lips quirked up slightly, his shoulders drooping the slightest bit in relief.

“If all goes as plan, then this won’t happen again.”

“Speaking of that, have you told anyone about your fake death?”

Zhongli shook his head, “No...but I’m certain Guizhong knows now. Our Traveller friend had to fetch the Cleansing Bell from her.”

“Hmm...is she angry?”

The other god shrugged, “I don’t know. I didn’t go with them to see her.”

“You’re gonna get an earful from her,” Venti replied, “And the other adepti too. Especially Xiao, I think.”

The earth god nodded, “I deserve that, I think.”

The Anemo Archon gave him a flat look, “You deserve way more than that for the stunt you pulled, but at least you won’t run away from it.”

“When have I ever run away from my responsibilities?”

Is that supposed to be a jab at me? Venti looked at him, but Zhongli looked serious, so he decided to let it go.

“So, what’s next?” Venti asked.

Zhongli’s lips quirked up in a humourless smile, “Next we go to Dihua Marsh.”

“I waited for you here, you know.”

Zhongli looked up at the Statue Venti was staring at. “I know,” he replied softly, “I’m sorry.”

Venti breathed in, letting the bitter anger that dwelled in his heart swell, before releasing it with a sigh.

“Why?”

He turned to face him, speaking frankly, “I don’t have any justifications. I thought that you will leave after that; that I have time to figure out how to tell you the truth. I...had hoped that you wouldn’t hear of the news until it’s already over.”

“The wind carries news swifter than feet,” Venti remarked, “And merchants tend to have loose lips when they meet wine.”

He saw his friend winced a little, “...I see.”

They fell into silence. The wind brushed past the space between them, cold in contrast to the warmth they had shared a few nights ago. Venti thought of that embrace, how he felt so safe and secure in them. Unconsciously, he rubbed his arms.

A coat fell over his shoulders. Venti blinked, before glancing up at the other Archon. Zhongli stared back, before looking away.

“...You look cold.”

“I’m the Anemo Archon,” Venti replied. Despite his words, he drew the coat closer to him, “I don’t get cold because of a mild breeze.”

“Just take it anyway.”

A smile pulled at the bard’s lips, “You always do this.”

He saw his friend inclined his head in a nod as Zhongli turned away from him, “...We should go now if we want to meet with Lumine and Paimon.”

“Right...”

As they walked away from the Statue, Zhongli murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Venti glanced at him and saw his downcast gaze. He sighed, tugging at the coat, eyes looking at the earth god’s arm to his side. It’s okay if I do this, right? Friends do this all the time.

Deciding to throw caution into the wind, Venti lunged forward and gripped his arm. Zhongli stumbled, startled, looking down at him with a bewildered expression. Venti hid his blushing face by burrowing it into his arm.

“Just don’t do that again, okay?” He mumbled into it. Hopefully his friend could hear him.

He felt his friend stilled, before Zhongli turned towards him and wrapped his free arm around him. The wind god could feel the other place his chin over his head.

“I won’t,” That earth-deep voice murmured above him, “I promise.”

The Geo Archon’s promise was as solid as stone. Venti smiled, and relaxed into the embrace.

Things proceeded quickly after they retrieved the glaze lilies.

At the gates of Liyue Harbour there was a massive standoff between the Millelith and the Fatui. After hearing that the Qixing had headed out to meet the adepti, Venti couldn’t help but feel like they were approaching the climax of Zhongli’s plan. A quick glance at said friend showed that his face was as inscrutable as always.

When Zhongli said that he would be heading to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, Venti decided to follow him.

“You will not go with them?” Zhongli asked as they headed towards the funeral parlour. He glanced at him as they continued walking, “Perhaps they would need the help.”

Venti shook his head, “Lumine can handle herself. She’s much tougher than she looks,” he flashed him a small grin, “Besides, I’m more worried about you.”

“There’s no need to worry about me. It seems like everything is falling into place.”

“That is exactly why I’m worried...”

They had just finished smoothing things out at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour when the sky suddenly turned dark. Confused at the sudden shift in the wind, Venti had looked up, and saw it.

Osial, Overlord of the Vortex.

Venti stared at the massive hydra monster at the horizon. Even though the fallen god was still far away, it towered over Liyue like a giant, serpentine tsunami, threatening to drown the whole city in its hatred. Torrential rain splattered down the streets as a storm raged; a herald to its coming.

He had only heard of the fallen god from stories he managed to pry out from his friend when Zhongli was either drunk or in the mood to indulge him. Venti had never actually seen the monster, much less fought it. Seeing it now, he couldn’t help but wonder, How did Zhongli beat it the first time?

A glance at his friend revealed that Zhongli was frowning, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed at the threat.

“I admit, I did not expect that,” Zhongli stated, tapping a finger against an arm. Venti knew that it meant his friend was close to summoning his spear.

“Should I be worried?” asked Venti, ready to summon his bow.

Zhongli tilted his head, before looking up, “Not yet, I think. Look, they’re mobilising the Jade Chamber.”

Venti squinted his eyes, “Is that...the Guizhong Ballista?”

“Yes,” he could see a faint, tense smile on his friend’s lips, “It looks like they are preparing to fight against it.”

“...Should we help?”

“No, this is the trial they must face themselves. Only when they have tried everything and failed, will I step in to end this,” Zhongli answered firmly, before bringing his gaze down to Venti, “In the meantime, we should do everything we can to make sure there are no casualties.”

Venti nodded, summoning the wind to his side, “Alright then. Shall we go?”

“Yes.”

Together, they ran towards the harbour.

In the end, there was no need for Rex Lapis.

They faced the setting sun together, watching as the saviours of Liyue talked amongst themselves by the docks. The Qixing and adepti were no doubt arguing over something, but after what they had just faced together, Venti was certain that it would end well. Shared hardship tend to do that even with the most difficult people.

From the corners of his eyes, he could see his friend’s shoulders relaxing, the spear he had gripped so tightly disappearing in flurries of gold.

“So,” Venti smiled, “Did they pass your test?”

Zhongli turned to face him and Venti was struck by...how young he suddenly looked. The smile on his face was wide and obviously happy, unlike his usual calm, small smiles. His friend was blinking rapidly, those brilliant amber eyes filled with water.

“Yes,” he answered, sounding close to tears.

Venti tugged him close. Zhongli burrowed his face into his shoulder, heaving a shuddering breath. The bard closed his eyes, raising a hand to pat his back as he ignored the wetness on his shoulder.

Venti was happy for Zhongli. He truly, genuinely did...at least until they entered the Northland Bank.

They were met with the Fatui Harbingers, Childe, also known as Tartaglia, and—

Signora, the Fair Lady...and the one who took his Gnosis.

“Oh?” She had said upon noticing his arrival, sneering, “So Mondstadt’s rodent ruler is here as well?”

Venti frowned at her, feeling the small emptiness in his chest where his Gnosis once was. Although he didn’t really mind losing it, the way she took it left a bad impression on him. He narrowed his eyes at her, ready to summon his bow again in case it was necessary.

Zhongli placed a hand over his shoulder, grounding him.

“Is this the way one of Tsaritsa’s emissaries greets another god?” Zhongli’s voice was soft, but the rebuke was clear in his firm gaze, “I expected better from one of your standing.”

Venti felt his lips quirked up a bit at that, especially at the female Harbinger’s angered embarrassment. Next to her, the ginger-haired Harbinger laughed.

“Ha, bet you didn’t expect that,” Childe laughed, before turning a thoughtful gaze at Zhongli, “Though, it appears there’s quite a few things we didn’t expect here...”

“Enough,” Signora declared. She turned to Zhongli, “I am here to uphold the agreement you’ve made with the Tsaritsa.”

“Agreement?” Venti questioned, looking at him.

That was when Lumine and Paimon arrived. Seeing the Harbingers, particularly Signora, shocked them, but they quickly shook it off. They swiftly ran to Venti’s side, with Lumine placing herself in front of him.

“Signora!” Lumine hissed, bracing herself in front of the wind god.

“Haha, it’s you two. I believe we’ve met once before...” The cold woman smirked, “In the City of Bards, was it? I’m glad you still remember my name.”

“Lumine, Paimon, calm down,” Venti called out. He glanced at Zhongli, who was watching everything with the cool calmness characteristic of Morax, “I believe that everything will be fine...right, Morax?”

“Morax!?” Paimon exclaimed, “Zhongli is Rex Lapis?”

“I suspected as much...” Lumine murmured, looking at the Geo Archon. She frowned, but she relaxed a little bit.

“That is correct,” Zhongli replied, cor lapis gaze on Signora, “She is here as part of the contract I made with the Tsaritsa.”

“A contract?” Lumine asked, “For what?”

Signora smiled coldly, “The Gnosis.”

Venti jolted, eyes wide as he shouted, “What!? Morax, what did you do!?”

Zhongli—Morax—was quiet for a brief moment before he extended a hand, palm up. His smooth voice was like the rumble of the earth as he solemnly declared:

“The contract is fulfilled. That which thou seeketh is now bestowed unto thee, for my promise is as solid as stone.”

There was a brief golden glow above his hand. Then—there, the emblem of the Geo Archon’s sovereignty; proof that the bearer held a seat among the divine thrones of the Seven. The rook-like piece shone gold under the lamps of the bank, its brilliance reminiscent of the cor lapis in Morax’s amber eyes.

“What?” Venti gasped again, “Why are you giving your Gnosis over to the Fatui?”

Morax’s gold gaze slid towards him, inscrutable and distant, “I do not give it for free. I give it as agreed upon in the contract...for it is a matter solely between the Tsaritsa and I.”

In other words, it has nothing to do with Venti.

The wind god fell silent, even as Paimon pestered the Lord of Geo with questions. He could hear them all talk, discussing Morax’s reasons and plans, but he didn’t truly listen to them. All he could focus on was the coldness seeping across his skin.

Why?

This time, the question wasn’t directed at Morax, but at himself.

Why did he feel...disappointed? Upset? Sad? Venti couldn’t understand. He knew that Morax had planned something, that this disaster was his divine trial for Liyue, and he understood the Geo Archon’s reasons behind it. He agreed to it too, didn’t he? Venti knew how important this was to Morax and had supported him in it.

So...why did he still feel...cold?

It couldn’t be because Morax handed over his Gnosis so easily. As the other Archon had stated, it was a trade. Although he couldn’t tell what he had gained in return, Venti knew that it must be incredibly valuable. As the God of Contracts, Morax would only agree to a deal that would end in a win-win situation for all parties involved. Whatever the Tsaritsa used as a bargaining chip, Venti knew that it must be worth it for Morax.

Then...why?

Why did the Tsaritsa approached Morax and talked with him, while she had her people attack me?

Why didn’t Morax tell me that he had met the Tsaritsa recently?

Once upon a time, he and the Tsaritsa were friends...right? Surely he didn’t imagine that. Yes, things had become strained since the cataclysm five hundred years ago, but surely she could have reached out and talked to him...right?

Venti felt cold, and he didn’t understand why.

He turned away silently, walking out of the bank. Distantly, he could hear Lumine and Paimon called out to him, worry colouring their tones, but he ignored them. Unknown to him, Morax’s gold gaze followed him out.

He just...needed some time alone.

Some time after he left the bank, Venti sensed someone following him.

He stopped in the middle of the empty streets of Liyue, the lanterns hung along the street casting long shadows across the moonlit road. Unconsciously, his hands were rubbing over his arms, trying to ward off a chill that had nothing to do with the night breeze. How ironic; the Anemo Archon felt cold.

A dark coat fell across his shoulders.

Venti looked up, and saw...

Morax? Rex Lapis? Zhongli? He couldn’t tell right now.

Whoever stood in front of him now, he watched Venti with familiar amber eyes. Was it worry that he saw in that cor lapis gaze, or was it something else?

“Would you let me explain myself?” The other god asked softly, extending a hand. Venti looked at it, remembering that it was the same hand that had given up his Gnosis to the enemy that had stolen his own just a while ago. The same hand that draped a coat over his shoulders whenever Venti looked the slightest bit cold.

He stared at the hand, then he stared at the man that made the offer. The man stared back, his amber gaze steady and...warm.

Afraid.

Venti tried to summon the anger he felt earlier that day, and found that he couldn’t. He was always weak to those brilliant amber eyes. All he could feel now was tired.

“Alright,” he answered simply, taking the offered hand.

A smile flickered over the other’s face, shoulders sagging slightly in relief. He nodded, tugging Venti away. As he did so, Venti stared at his back, at the shoulders that had carried the burden of an entire country for thousands of years, and was now finally allowed to rest.

Silently, he intertwined their hands and walked a little closer.

Love was a complicated emotion, yet Venti continued to love nonetheless.

Chapter Text

"The currencies that flow through this land are my flesh and blood.”

"For thus did I become the guarantor of the people's hard work, wisdom, and future.”

"This is the trust I have placed in them. Betray it, and you taint my blood."

In front of the Traveller, the Geo Archon said this:

“Even boulders that can withstand whirlpools will erode with the passing of time. I kept convincing myself that cracks had not begun to form and that the end of my time had not yet come.”

“Until one drizzly day, as I was strolling along the harbour, I heard a merchant tell one of his workers, “You’ve finished your duties, go ahead and call it a day.””

“I stood motionless among the crowds, asking myself, “Have I already finished my duties?””

It sounded like the beginning, and in a way, it was. The truth, however, was that it began a long, long time ago. That moment was simply the straw that broke the camel’s back.

It began one night, outside a tavern in Liyue Harbour, around a century ago.

Venti had came along with the wind, breezing into the Land of Geo with three bottles of dandelion wine as he usually did. Cheerfully, he had dragged the duty-bound Geo Archon into drinking with him. When the wine he brought had ran dry, the Anemo Archon had insisted that they went bar hopping, eager to try the local specialties.

Of course, Zhongli rarely could ever refuse him.

And so they went bar hopping, going through tavern after tavern, drinking wine after wine. Zhongli had paced himself, silently appointing himself as the responsible, sober one for tonight’s outing. He didn’t mind; it was entertaining to see Venti get progressively drunker with each rice wine or alcohol-fermented treat, singing merry songs along with the patrons as the night went on.

The red flush on the wind god’s cheeks also looked particularly adorable.

It was at early dawn that it happened, the moon hung low on the horizon and the usual busy streets of Liyue Harbour empty save for a few drunkards ambling their way home. A refreshing, cool breeze swept through the air, deceptively peaceful in the face of what was to come. This moment would be deeply embedded in the Geo Archon’s memories, even if the Anemo Archon forgot it.

They had just exited the last tavern, Venti slung over Zhongli’s back. His arms wrapped around the earth god’s neck, while the wind god’s head slumped over his shoulder. This close, Zhongli could smell the rice wine lingering in the other god’s mouth and the warmth of his body pressed against his.

“Heeeyy...” Venti drawled, blinking slowly at him, “Did you—did you pay for the wine?”

Zhongli nodded. With his ability to make mora on the go, he was usually the go-to wallet between them...only when he wanted (or remembered) to use that ability though, “Of course.”

“Man, must be nice...to be able to make mora whenever you want,” mumbled Venti, burrowing his chin onto his shoulder, “Hmm...speaking of which...why did ya create it in the first place?”

“Mora?”

Venti nodded, the movement a little too excitable, “Yeah! Why didn’t ya, I dunno, use paper as currency? Or jade plaques? Or something?”

“I wanted to create a standardised currency for my people,” Zhongli answered patiently, “Something that has inherent value, so it would not become worthless in another country’s economic system. It must also be easy to carry and make, so that they can use it to barter and trade goods.”

“Hmmm...” The wind god mumbled sleepily, “So you wanna make your people happy?”

“That is correct,” he replied, carrying Venti towards his house at Mount Tianheng, “I made mora to guarantee their prosperity. It’s a promise that, as long as they work hard, then they will receive their reward. A contract, if you will.”

“Then...” Venti blinked over his shoulder, eyes drooping to a close, “Have you ever tasted the prosperity you promised to your people for their diligence, or reap the rewards for your thousands of years of duty?”

Zhongli froze. On his back, Venti finally fell asleep, but the earth god did not noticed that. His mind whirled with the question Venti had posed.

“Have you ever tasted the prosperity you promised to your people for their diligence, or reap the rewards for your thousands of years of duty?”

It was a good thing that Venti fell asleep, because Zhongli could not answer him.

(The next day, Venti had a terrible hangover and forgot everything that had happened  in the previous night. His words, however, would haunt Zhongli in the years to come.)

There was a lullaby that came from the northeastern region of Liyue; an ancient cradle song from a village that no longer existed, yet somehow survived the passage of time.

It went like this:

The moon is bright, the wind is quiet.

The tree leaves hang over the window.

My little baby, go to sleep quickly,

Sleep, dreaming sweet dreams.

Once upon a time, Zhongli was weak.

He could scarcely remember those days now. Thousands upon thousands of years had piled up on top of those memories, burying it into the depths of his mind. He could not afford thinking of it; for the Geo Archon was supposed to be strong, a pillar for his people to lean on and a guardian deity that had promised to guide them to prosperity.

There was no time for him to be weak. Not over two thousand years ago, when the Archon War raged and he fought gods and demons for his dominion. Not now, when his people were counting on him to make the right calls and predict their future based on the patterns of their history. There was never a time for him to be weak.

Morax was strong, and now, that was all that he knew to be.

The first crack appeared on a certain unassuming night.

He slept inside his house on Mount Tianheng. It was a simple home, sparsely yet elegantly furnished, with a view over the bustling city. Although his house at Jueyun Karst was much larger and more luxurious, he preferred this simple home over Taishan Mansion simply because he could be closer to his people.

His dreams that night started sweetly enough. He sat amidst a field of glaze lilies, the flowers blooming thanks to a song carried by the wind. From the corner of his eyes he caught a glimpse of green and a flash of a white cecilia, and on his other side, he saw a hint of a woman with long, billowing sleeves. Zhongli could not see them, but he felt at peace with his friends’ presence.

It did not last long.

Slowly, without him noticing at first, the lilies began to wilt. A line of black appeared on the horizon, and as it approached him in waves, he realised that the blackness came from the glaze lilies that had turned into dust. He turned his head, a warning escaping his throat, but it was too late. The taint reached Guizhong and Venti, and they, too, turned to ashen dust.

Little by little, the black dust reached towards the blue sky and tainted it obsidian.

He spun in place, vainly trying to find the source of this corruption. Inside the dream, Zhongli didn’t realise that nothing was real; his instincts to fight took over and he summoned his spear. And yet, all he saw was an infinite expanse of black land and ashen dust.

Then, he saw those eyes.

They were much larger than him; perhaps at least twice as tall and several times as long. Its pupils were that of a serpent’s, cunning and cold. The irises, however, were—

They were a familiar amber colour.

Zhongli woke up in a gasp.

He bent over, clutching his head as his chest heaved. Dread coursed through him, though he didn’t know why. He had faced gods and demons before, so why should a mere dream scare him?

Out of the corners of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of that serpentine gold gaze.

In a flash, he summoned his spear and threw it at it. A crash resounded in the room, followed by the tinkling of glass falling. When he stood up to check, he realised that he had just destroyed a mirror.

Zhongli lifted a shard and gazed at it. What was reflected back was his normal, round pupil.

He sighed, relief sagging his shoulders. Just a dream, Zhongli thought to himself, shaking his head, It was just a dream.

It took a few minutes for him to gather the broken shards and clean up his mess. When it was done, the dream—nightmare—was put out of his mind, already forgotten. He slipped back into his bed, trying to get some more sleep before he began his duties at dawn. His dreams for the rest of the night were peacefully blank.

If only it could stay that way.

Would you like to hear the rest of the lullaby?

It went like this:

The moon is bright, the wind is quiet,

The cradle moves softly,

My little one, close your eyes,

Sleep, sleep, dreaming sweet dreams.

He knew that his people thought him cold and unfeeling.

(In those days, the rumor among the common folk was that the Lord of Geo was a cold and unfeeling god. His conduct was just in all things and his judgments were rational and dispassionate, but he lacked normal human sentiment. Like the rocks, he was without warmth or softness. — Rex Incognito II)

It was a necessity of his duties. To protect his people, to guide them to prosperity, he must put aside his emotions and place their wellbeing over his. He had never regretted making that trade.

It was a fair contract, he had thought at the time of its making.

Several decades ago, there was a village that was crushed by a landslide.

It was a tragic incident. Many lives were lost that day, and the few survivors that remained were either wounded or traumatised. Of those that lingered while their bodies rotted...they were more of Zhongli’s concern.

After all, the land could not begin to heal if the spirits refused to move on.

As a god and an Archon, it would be an easy matter to banish them. He could simply disperse their spirits and force their souls to go to wherever death took them next. Yet, he hesitated.

Despite the heart of stone he reputedly have, Zhongli cared.

The people who died there were ordinary citizens; mothers and fathers, children and grandparents—people who were just unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They did not do anything wrong. Should they not be treated with some respect, then?

But even though he wanted to, he did not know how.

Perhaps, long ago, Zhongli knew how. Back when he was still weak and needed to rely on others, before he became an adeptus and was forced to be strong for his people. He had put aside his emotions for his duties for so long, that now, he didn’t know how to properly express it.

Thankfully, he knew someone who could.

Venti easily—even happily—accepted his request. When he stoically said he would repay the Anemo Archon for this favour, the wind god just laughed and said:

“We’re friends, silly! There’s no need for that.”

He supposed that was true. Theirs was a relationship that was not founded on a formal contract. Instead, it was built upon a smile and an offer of a picnic basket; the friendship that came after it as refreshing as a spring breeze. Zhongli remembered smiling when the Anemo Archon refused his offer for repayment.

Between the two of them, they had long stopped keeping scores.

Under the veil of the moonlight, Venti walked towards the center of the ruined village. Ghosts meandered around the perimeter; confused, lost souls that no longer knew what to do. Their spectres glowed an eerie blue-green around the Anemo Archon.

“Well, when in a foreign country, you should do as the locals do, no?” Venti quipped, sitting crossed legged at the center. He brought his lyre out, but used his Anemo powers to turn it into a long wooden board with seven strings—a guqin.

Zhongli remembered teaching him how to play that instrument thousands of years ago.

The wind god began plucking the strings. At first, there were no reactions from the ghosts, but as the melody flowed from the strings, they began turning their heads to the music. Venti smiled, and began to sing.

“The moon is bright, the wind is quiet...” he sang; an ancient cradle song that Zhongli had shared with him long, long ago, “The tree leaves hang over the window...”

As the lullaby engulfed the night with its peace, Zhongli closed his eyes and breathed deeply. How many years have passed since I last heard this? He wondered, leaning against a tree, How many aeons have passed since someone sang it to me?

Briefly, he thought he remembered someone singing this to him, a long, long time ago, back when he was still weak. He could not remember their face, however. Their name, voice, and appearance had long been lost to time.

He thought he felt a drop of water traced down his cheek, but dismissed it as condensation.

It was almost dawn, after all. Some dew might have fallen on him.

Later, when the last of the ghosts had disappeared, Zhongli asked Venti why he had chosen to sing a lullaby.

“What other song would suffice?” Venti replied back, “To coax one to sleep—only a lullaby would do.”

Once upon a time, there was someone who would sing him a lullaby.

He was young and weak then, and so, so small. His body ran hot with a fever as he laid on his cot miserably. Then, someone had sat next to him and placed his head on their lap. Their hand brushed back Zhongli’s hair gently.

“My little baby, go to sleep quickly...” That person sang. He could no longer remember their voice, but he remembered how it made him feel: safe and warm, “Sleep, dreaming sweet dreams...”

Long, long ago, his dreams were sweet and peaceful.

The dreams—nightmares—kept returning.

Sometimes, he stood amidst the glaze lilies, watching helplessly as the flowers wilted and turned to ashen dust. Other times, it was of Liyue’s destruction; the city he had worked so hard to build wrecked by an unknown power that speared the harbour with rock pillars and crushed it with meteors. And stranger still were the dreams where he was bound by gold chains, a hand vainly reaching towards his friends in the distance while he was dragged further into the abyss. In those dreams, he had shouted to Guizhong and Venti for help, yet all they did was watch him sadly until he could no longer see their faces.

Ever-present in those dreams were those eyes—a silent, serpentine gold gaze.

Zhongli didn’t know who they belonged to. Those eyes seemed familiar, but he couldn’t think of anyone with such cold, cunning gaze. It didn’t match the kind gentleness in Guizhong or Venti’s, nor was it similar to the malice he remembered from his divine and demonic foes.

Every time the dawn came and he awoke, the Geo Archon would put aside his nightmares and focus on his duties. He has far more pressing matters to attend to than worrying about dreams.

But sometimes, when he glanced at his reflection, he thought he saw that serpentine gold gaze reflected back.

If not in Liyue Harbour, then one would usually find Zhongli high above Qingyun Peak, in his Dwelling in the Clouds.

The little floating stone island overlooked the entirety of Jueyun Karst and beyond. Indeed, when sitting there, it felt like one could see the whole of Liyue spread out like a living painting. Zhongli often went there to either attend to his duties or escape from the trivialities of mortal life.

Currently, he was doing the former. Stacks of paper piled up on his desk and on either sides of him, while behind him were three large screens pinned with even more papers. Written on those sheets were all the intricacies that kept Liyue running—merchants’ trade routes, export and import goods, the ships that left and remained in the harbour, people to keep track of, the amount of mora in circulation, and much more.

It was like the wall of paper that Ningguang would keep in the future, but much, much more intensive. Furthermore, unlike her, Zhongli had collected and arranged all this information by himself.

People think that Rex Lapis only came down once a year to hand out his divine predictions, as if that was the only day he worked. The truth, however, was that it was the easiest day of the year for Zhongli.

Aside from his yearly appearance as Rex Lapis, Zhongli also tended to the inner workings of Liyue in secret. He would disguise himself as a woman, child, or elder, and nudged the right people to do the right things for the sake of Liyue. In this way, he was very much the unseen Emperor of the Land of Geo.

His yearly predictions, too, were based on the information he extensively gathered himself. While more than a few believed that Rex Lapis held the power of foresight, the truth was that the future was as much a mystery to Zhongli as anyone else. His predictions were actually based on the history and present of Liyue; the patterns of the future made obvious to one who had accumulated over six thousand years of experience.

It was as he was writing down his ‘predictions’ for the following year that Guizhong arrived.

She had shed her usual mortal disguise as a frail old woman, and instead appeared as a highborn young lady with billowing sleeves. She smiled at Zhongli as she approached him, sitting down next to him. Zhongli nodded at her as a greeting, too focused on the piece of paper he was writing down on to say anything else.

She wasn’t annoyed by this. In fact, she looked amused. “Busy as ever, I see,” commented Guizhong.

“Hmm,” was his only response.

Guizhong tilted her head, looking down at the stacks of papers piled high on his table. “I’m glad I no longer have to do this,” she said, chuckling softly, “One of the perks of no longer being a god, I suppose.”

The corners of his lips quirked up in a smile as Zhongli replied, “You are very fortunate indeed.”

That earned a laugh from her. The faint smile on his face became a little more solid, some weight on his heart lightened by her presence. It was always this way whenever he could be around his friends.

If Venti was there, it would have been perfect.

“Yes, I’m glad for my ‘retirement’,” she quipped, still giggling slightly. The smile disappeared, however, when she saw what he had written as his ‘predictions’.

“Zhongli,” Guizhong began, voice turning serious. He didn’t need to turn to imagine the frown on her face, “What is this?”

“These are the ‘predictions’ I will set for this year’s Rite of Descension,” replied Zhongli, his tone just as stoic as ever.

“But these are...” she criticised, “Zhongli, you can’t do this. Increasing mandatory work hours? Abolishing weekends and reducing the number of national holidays? Lengthening the time a soldier must serve in the military before they’re allowed to go home? Zhongli, these are humans.”

Zhongli lifted his head, and finally turned to stare at her. His tone was placid and inscrutable, “Yes, and?”

Guizhong stared at him, “Zhongli, humans aren’t machines.”

He blinked, “I know that.”

“Do you?” She questioned, cupping her chin with a hand. She narrowed her eyes at him, “Are you alright?”

Zhongli looked away, unable to bear her piercing gaze. He gazed at the paper, at the words written on it, the black ink stark against the white. Was it possible that he made a mistake?

Swiftly, he brought his brush down and stroke out his earlier ‘predictions’.

“I’m fine,” Zhongli answered, and he had sincerely believed it.

A few decades ago, Morax had intervened in the lives of mortals.

To be fair, he had always intervened in the lives of mortals, whether they knew it or not. Sometimes, it was obvious, such as the Rite of Descension. Other times, it was subtle, such as this moment right here.

Currently he—or rather, she—was in one of the many teahouses that decorated Liyue, daintily sipping a cup of qingxin tea. She sat on the upper balcony overlooking the streets, amber eyes following the red marriage sedan that was being carried down the street. The red curtains that covered the bride was impossible for mortals to see through, but not so for her divine gaze.

Of course Morax was there to see it. She was the one to arrange this, after all.

Naturally, she did not arrange it directly. That would be too obvious for a god of her standing. Instead, she had subtly laid the foundations by approaching the bride and groom’s parents in various guises—as a middle-aged gossiping noblewoman, a shy maid, and a wise elder—and carefully steered the two families towards each other.

This was all for Liyue. The bride’s family had powerful connections with merchants and politicians from Fontaine, which could be used to centralised more trade in Liyue. Meanwhile, the groom’s family was known for their extensive connections in Liyue’s mining industry. Morax had hoped that, if the two families joined together, they could use their connections to increase Liyue’s exports and gain a valuable bargaining chip when negotiating with Fontaine.

The only problem was that neither the bride nor groom loved each other.

Morax didn’t think it was an important issue. Marriage was more than love; it was a joining of two families to create a more prosperous society. Perhaps they did not love each other now, but they would in time.

(She ignored the rumours that the bride had already fallen in love with a common man from Fontaine. It did not matter. The bride would learn that duty was more important than a fleeting passion.)

Marriage was a contract, and contracts did not require emotions to seal. As long as it was fair, then let the contract be signed, even if the heavens fall.

As the marriage sedan passed by, Morax peered into the red curtains, and saw the woman’s head bowed, her shoulders shaking as if she was crying.

Tears were a common phenomenon when it came to marriages. Morax had often saw brides cry during their wedding, either because they were sad to temporarily part with their families, happy because the day they had long awaited for had arrived, or both. In fact, it was a Liyuean belief that the more the bride cried during her wedding, the better it was.

Yet, instead of happy tears, what she saw behind the red veil were the bride’s quiet, sorrowful sobs.

Morax frowned, setting her teacup down. She placed her chin on her hand, gazing contemplatively at the marriage sedan.

This was all for Liyue. For the sake of the many, a few must bear some greater burdens. That was what she herself had done for thousands of years. It was only fair, no?

And yet, something prickled at her stone heart.

This is all for Liyue.

I did the right thing...didn’t I?

Once upon a time, Morax had thrown mountains as spears and hurled meteors at his enemies, burying them deep into the bowels of the earth. Chi of Guyun, Osial the Overlord of the Vortex, and Azhdaha the Dragon King—all of them fell before him and were buried alive where they once stood. None dared to challenge the Lord of Geo over his dominion now.

Before they fell into their deep, restless slumber, they cursed him:

“One day, you shall become like us.”

Morax had scoffed back then. Their words held no power, unlike a real curse. They were simply vain threats of ones in their death throes.

He had dismissed their words as hollow and re-focused his attention onto Liyue. Unlike them, the people of Liyue demanded his constant attention, and it would be ill-becoming of him to fail them. He had become strong for their sakes, and pushed aside his emotions for the fulfilment of his duties. This was the contract he agreed to with the people of Liyue.

Let the contract be signed, though the heavens fall.

Even should the heavens fall, Morax would remain strong; an immovable mountain amidst the whirlpools.

That serpentine gold gaze appeared more frequently now, seemingly following his every reflection.

Morax was more bothered by the fact that it no longer troubled him, than worrying about who possessed such cold, cunning eyes.

Around a decade ago, on a calm, peaceful day, Morax realised that something was wrong with him.

He was sitting in his Dwelling in the Clouds, sifting through piles upon piles of paperwork, marking them down and re-evaluating his own firsthand gathered information. In front of him, Venti flew, dipping in and out of the clouds, a cheery laugh escaping his throat as he played with the wind and strummed his lyre. Hearing that happy sound, a smile curved his lips, even as, unknown to himself, something ugly broke through the barrier of his stone heart.

How joyful it must be to be so free.

He lifted his head, looking at the wind god fondly. As he listened to his friend’s joyful song, he closed his eyes to enjoy the breeze.

How nice it must be to be so unrestrained.

How nice it must be to chain him down.

How freeing it must be to flit among the clouds.

How pleasing it would be to see him grounded on the earth.

Those wings of freedom, so pristine and pure—

It would be satisfying to tear them apart and trap him in a gilded cage.

Morax jerked, eyes wide. His hand accidentally hit the ink pot on his desk, staining his priceless papers black. However, he paid no attention to it.

What...what was he thinking!?

It was one thing to think of Venti as a romantic interest. He had long since accepted that he was attracted to the wind god, and that he loved him in a way he didn’t think he would love ever again. He also knew that Venti had no interest in him, and so he never thought of confessing to him, much less...all that.

So why?

Even as he questioned himself, the thoughts and images came stumbling through. It was as if now that they had been heard, those dark thoughts rushed to fill his mind like a dam that have been broken.

Venti glided in front of him, chatting with the birds in flight, unaware of the images that came before Morax’s eyes. He saw how the wind god flew, and thought of how easy it would be to summon geo-gold chains to wrap around that small figure. How beautiful the gold would glint under the sunlight while chaining those pure white wings...

It would be easy to capture him—this wisp of a god—and seal him away in Taishan Mansion like the many treasures his followers had offered him. His fingers itched to do so, to Morax’s horror.

No...No! No! No!

He would never do that to Venti, to Barbatos. The God of Contracts would never—should never—bind the God of Freedom.

But he wanted to.

And it terrified him.

“Have you ever tasted the prosperity you promised to your people for their diligence, or reap the rewards for your thousands of years of duty?”

The words Venti had uttered drunkenly all those years ago sprang into his mind, tempting him.

“Are you alright?”

Morax jerked, startled from his thoughts. Suddenly, he realised that he had been staring at nothing for a while now. While he was distracted, Venti had noticed Morax’s empty gaze, and had settled down in front of him. The Anemo Archon leaned over the desk, concern written plainly across his face.

No, Morax wanted to say, I want to have you, to possess you. Not as a person, but as an object. As a reward for all of my thousands of years of diligence.

This is wrong.

Yet, a part of him hissed, cold and cruel with a hint of harsh truth: Is it right for you to continue working for nothing? Is it fair for you to continuously push aside your emotions for your duties? What have you gained in return for this trade, this contract?

You made yourself the guarantor of your people’s prosperity, but what about your own?

That serpentine gold gaze had always been quiet in his dreams, but now, Morax thought it finally had a voice.

That voice was his own.

“I’m fine, “ instead of voicing any of this though, Morax had smiled faintly, “Just distracted. That’s all.”

Venti looked skeptical, “You sure?”

He nodded firmly, hiding his shaking hands by putting them beneath the desk, “Yes, I’m certain.”

“Alright then...” Venti still looked doubtful, but he smiled at him. The Anemo Archon stood up and extended a hand, white wings (that he wanted to protect-tear-care-rip) outstretched behind him, “Fly with me?”

Morax stared at the offered hand. For a moment, he was tempted to take it.

Instead, he shook his head and looked back at his papers, saying, “Not yet.”

He didn’t want to accept it. Not yet, anyway.

He went to Huaguang Stone Forest and checked the tree that sealed Azhdaha. Then, he travelled to Qingce Village and inspected the seal that kept Chi bound beneath the earth. Afterwards, he went to Guyun Stone Forest and looked over the stone pillars that pinned Osial down on the seabed.

All of them still held strong. There were no signs of any of their evil powers leaking out, possibly corrupting him. Whatever was happening to him, they weren’t involved in it.

Unbidden, he remembered their words before they fell: “One day, you shall become like us.”

Back then, he had dismissed it as empty words. A final, vain threat before they succumbed to their wounds. Only now did he realised that was a warning.

How could this be?

He was not sealed into a tree, or buried beneath the earth and sea. He cared for his people, loved them dearly, and had thought that the contract he made with them was fair. He walked among the mortals, free and unbound. Surely, surely, that was the truth...

...Right?

That serpentine gold gaze said otherwise.

One drizzly day, shortly after his realisation, Morax overheard a merchant talking to one of his workers:

“You’ve finished your duties, go ahead and call it a day.”

He froze, standing motionless amongst the crowds. Unbidden, a question rose to his mind, Have I already finished my duties?

As the drizzle turned into a downpour, and then into a storm, Morax stood there, unable to answer his own question.

There was a question he had wanted to ask Venti, yet never found the chance to. Now, with certain questions buzzing in his mind, he had travelled to the Land of Wind to find him and asked:

“How did you know that trusting the future to your people was the right choice?”

Venti blinked. They were standing beneath the great tree at Windrise, crystalflies floating in the dark like fireflies. The Anemo Archon tilted his head, “What brought this on?”

Morax averted his gaze, murmuring, “Please answer.”

“Hmm...” Venti murmured, tucking his lyre away as he peered up at Morax’s face, “Have you ever been weak?”

Curious, Morax glanced at him, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I was weak before, and I still am now,” Venti—Barbatos—answered. His smile made it clear that he didn’t mind this fact, “I was born as a simple wind wisp, unable to do more than cast a single breeze. One day, I met a group of people who cried for help inside a storm, so I tried to my best to lessen the gales for them. I was weak, then, and couldn’t do much, but their gratitude turned to worship and from there I became more powerful.”

The bard-god brought out his lyre, absently strumming it as his eyes wandered to the distant past, “Then, one day, I met a boy who wished to see the blue skies. I’ve told you this story before, no? He gathered an army to fight back against the Lord of the Tower, and won Mondstadt’s freedom at the cost of his life.”

The strumming slowed; the melody turned somber, “I played a mere supporting role through it all, yet after Decarabian’s fall, the people’s belief were channeled to me. They gave me the power to become the Anemo Archon, and with it, I took the image of my first friend.”

“That is why I believe that humans have the right to decide their own future,” Barbatos turned, smiling at him, “I was weak, but they made me strong. All they needed was a chance to grow, a fertile land that would allow them to live peacefully. They didn’t really need me, so I left after I transformed the land.”

“I’m sure that, even without my help, in time they would have eventually gained their own freedom.”

Silence fell, broken only by the strumming of the lyre. Morax stared at the ground, processing everything that Barbatos had told him. Do humans really need gods?

After a while, Barbatos broke the silence with a question, “In all of your six thousand years of life, have you ever allowed yourself to be weak?”

Morax remained silent. Barbatos continued playing the lyre, the melody solemn.

Once upon a time, Zhongli was weak.

I wish I was strong, he had prayed back then.

Now, having gained the strength he had so desperately craved long, long ago, Morax prayed:

I wish I was weak.

A few years ago, he met a certain purple-haired girl at a restaurant.

Morax was disguised as a young, female commoner. The girl, too, was in disguise as a waitress, but Morax knew everything that happened in Liyue. This was one of the many wealthy heirs of Yujing Terrrace—the proud Keqing.

She had heard rumours about this young girl, how proud she was, how she was so stubborn and worked so hard. She heard of the—arrogant, some would say—declaration this girl had made, “The time of the adepti has long passed. If even the Liyue Qixing don’t want to face that truth, then what future is there for Liyue?”

A majority of the populace dismissed her words, with those who were particularly devout to the Geo Archon looking at her in anger. Morax, however, was intrigued.

A human who did not believe in the gods? A human who would not rely on her? She wanted to know more about this Keqing.

So Morax smiled, and beckoned the disguised heiress over.

“Hello,” she greeted softly, the god’s appearance that of a demure young woman, “I’ve heard many things about you, Keqing.”

Keqing stiffened, “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are referring to.”

“Now, there’s no need for that,” Morax replied, gesturing her to sit down, “Sit, please. I just wanted to talk to you about your views on the adepti.”

Warily, the purple-haired girl did so, “What did you want to know?”

Smiling over her teacup, Morax asked, “Do you truly believe that the adepti are useless?”

“I would not exactly say that they are useless...” Keqing still eyed her warily, “They have done a great deal for Liyue, and I respect that. However, the times have changed. The Liyue now is not the same Liyue that had made the contract with Rex Lapis over three thousand years ago. It is time for humans to take control over their own future.”

Morax tilted her head, looking at her contemplatively, “Do you believe that it is time for the contract between Liyue and the adepti to end?”

The young girl hesitated, before a steely determination set behind her eyes. Keqing stared at her, stating firmly, “Yes.”

Morax smiled, “Thank you. That is all I wanted to ask.”

(For the first time in thousands of years, Morax felt hope.)

The rest, as they say, was history.

Now, the present:

Morax—Zhongli—stared at the teacups between him and Venti. Following the events at the Northland Bank, the two had retreated to Zhongli’s home on Mount Tianheng. Currently, they were sitting on the small balcony that overlooked Liyue Harbour, their cups of sweet flower tea untouched.

“So,” he heard Venti spoke, his voice quiet and somber, “That’s what happened.”

Zhongli nodded. He could not bear looking at his friend, afraid of the judgement he might see in those viridian eyes. He had said everything that had led him to this moment—the feelings, the experiences, the fear. Everything except for the true nature of his affections for the windborne bard.

That, he thought, was something he would take to his (real) grave.

Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw a flicker of movement. He steeled himself for Anemo-infused fists or slaps. Closing his eyes, he thought, I deserve them.

After everything he had put Venti through in the last couple of days, Zhongli knew he deserved a beating.

Instead, he felt arms wrapped around him. Opening his eyes, he saw that the Anemo Archon was hugging him. As he lifted his gaze to meet Venti’s, he realised that the wind god was crying.

“I’m sorry,” Venti murmured, holding him close, “I didn’t realise. It must have been really tough on you.”

Unbidden, he felt tears welled up behind his eyes. Zhongli shut his eyes and shook his head, “Don’t apologise. I was the one who didn’t tell anyone and chose to bear everything by myself.”

Venti looked up. This close, Zhongli could see the Anemo power lighting up his teal eyes, glowing gently like fireflies in the dark. The wind god raised a hand to cup his cheek, asking him:

“Are you okay?”

Once upon a time, Zhongli would have said “I’m fine”. The words instinctively rose up, too, but upon feeling the warmth of Venti’s hand on his cheek, it choked in his throat. The powerful Geo Archon clasped that hand, pressing it against his cheek as he stuttered, “I...I...”

I wish I was weak, he remembered praying. He looked at the god in front of him, and thought of the weakness Venti—Barbatos—had turned into gentle strength. Bowing his head, Zhongli weakly admitted, “I...I’m not okay.”

Venti smiled, kind and tender, “It’s alright. You don’t have to be strong anymore.”

A sob broke out from him, his torso heaving as a heavy weight was released from his chest. Cracks formed in his stone heart, finally breaking through the shell he had erected around it. Tears fell from his eyes, but Venti tenderly wiped them away.

“I’m tired,” Zhongli finally cried.

Venti tugged him close, letting Zhongli buried his face into his shoulder. He felt the Anemo Archon raised a hand to stroke his hair, while the other patted his back. Next to his ears, he could hear the windborne bard hummed a familiar ancient cradle song.

“Then rest, O’ Archaic Lord,” Venti, Barbatos—the God of Freedom and his dearest friend—gently gave his blessing, “You are free.”

Under the light of the jade moon, Zhongli fell asleep.

When he realised that his friend had succumbed to slumber, Venti carefully nudged him off to place the earth god’s head on his lap. As he tenderly brushed back the Geo Archon’s hair, the Anemo Archon hummed softly and flicked a hand towards a nearby guqin. Zhongli had always kept one in his homes, as fond as he was of the traditional Liyuean music.

Anemo energy flowed from his hand, plucking the strings of the antiquated instrument for him.

The God of Freedom closed his eyes, and sang the Archaic Lord’s lullaby.

“The moon is bright, the wind is quiet...”

Xiangling stretched her arms over her head, smiling as she closed up the restaurant. Aside from the attack by the sea monster, it had been a good day. Looking up at the jade moon above, she prayed, Rex Lapis, you may be gone, but I think we’re going to be alright.

“The cradle moves softly...”

Keqing yawned, rubbing her eyes as she paused from her reading of Liyue’s history. Moonlight filtered into her room from an opened window. Maybe it’s time to sleep, Keqing thought, before shaking her head and focusing back onto her books, No, with Rex Lapis gone, I have more to learn than ever. The future is now up to us humans.

“My little one, close your eyes,”

Ningguang stopped from poring over her papers, tilting her head to listen to the faint song carried by the wind. She smiled, raising a toast to the jade moon, Rex Lapis, do not worry. Liyue will be safe with us.

“Sleep, sleep, dreaming sweet dreams...”

Xiao heard the song on the wind, faint as it were, Lord Barbatos, I’m entrusting our Lord to you now.

Once upon a time, someone told the Lord of Geo that there was no life to be found in barren stone. Thus did the Lord of Geo command flowers of the purest gold to burst forth from the face of an uneven rock.

Look now, beneath the jade moon and upon the Sea of Clouds! Behold the magnum opus of the Lord of Geo!

Like a glaze lily, the golden flower known as Liyue blossomed under the starlight and song.

As the lullaby drew to a close, Venti heard the soft footfalls of a woman’s feet.

Opening his eyes, he saw that Guizhong had settled herself next to him; her form that of a young woman with billowing sleeves. She inclined her head in greeting, smiling at him, before her eyes drifted down to the person on his lap. Venti smiled back, still gently stroking Zhongli’s hair.

“You know,” she said, a small laughter in her voice, “I was a bit angry at him for the stunt he pulled, but looking at him now, I just can’t get mad.”

“I know,” Venti laughed softly, “I find myself in the same state.”

“Yes, this is good for him, I think,” Guizhong gazed fondly at Zhongli, “I’ll miss seeing him around Liyue, but this is for the best. You’ll take care of him, will you?”

“I will,” Venti replied promptly, “I promise.”

She smiled, “Promises are an important thing in this Land of Contracts.”

“I know. I’ll keep my word.”

“I know you will,” Guizhong nodded. She poured the lotus wine she had brought into two new cups. Venti took the one she offered.

Together, under the jade moon, they raised a toast to Liyue and its Archaic Lord.

Zhongli stood at the slope overlooking Liyue, and beheld his creation in the morning sun.

Once upon a time, the land had been a barren mountainside, buffeted by gales that fell from the mountains and the waves that rose from the sea. Over thousands of years, he and his people had carved a home from that mountainside, turning it into the flourishing port he saw before him. Now, the flower that was known as Liyue had bloomed and spread its splendour throughout the world.

In his mind’s eye, he could see what once was—a small collection of settlers struggling to erect their houses. Then, a village appeared in front of him, the people tilling the land to plant paddies in the fields. In a flash, the image changed again, now turning into the busy harbour that welcomed adventurers and merchants into its ports.

Three thousand seven hundred years all went by in a flash.

A hand tugged his sleeve. Zhongli turned, and saw Venti standing there, patient and kind. The Anemo Archon offered a hand, his palm up, as he asked, “Shall we go?”

Zhongli stared at the hand, the image in front of him overlapping with a smile on top of a mountain and an offered picnic basket. Then, he saw the memory of his friend flying on top of Qingyun Peak, a hand outstretched as he asked, “Fly with me?”

Back then, he had said, “Not yet”. Now, he said:

“Yes,” Zhongli took his hand. He could feel the warmth of it seeping through the leather of his gloves. Faintly, he smiled, “Let’s go.”

Venti smiled back, tugging his hand gently. Zhongli followed, letting the wind lead him to a future unknown. Neither looked back.

Once upon a time...

The time for ‘once upon a time’ had passed. Now, it was time for the present.

“Still, the winds change direction.”

"Someday, they will blow towards a brighter future…”

"Take my blessings and live leisurely from this day onward."

Chapter Text

“So,” their new landlady placed one hand on her hip, eyes narrowed at them. She could be described as a moderately beautiful young woman if not for the intimidating aura around her, “You two are the new tenants.”

Zhongli briefly wondered if it was a good idea for him to leave the country he had watched over for over three thousand years, before remembering that there was a point in all this. As much as he loved Liyue, staying there reminded him too much of his duties and he would eventually relapse back into his old habit of overworking himself—or at least that was what Guizhong had said when she had encouraged him to leave with Venti. “That would completely null the point of faking your death,” she had said.

“You’ve been cooped up in Liyue for too long,” Guizhong had told him on the day they left, nudging him towards Venti, “Go now, and see the world.”

That was why they stood here now, under the midday sun, facing an irate-looking landlady in front of a building marked as Marktstrasse 32, Mondstadt.

“Yup!” Venti nodded, cheerfully ignoring the minor terrifying feeling she exuded, “My name’s Venti, and my friend here is Zhongli.”

She crossed her arms, “Both of you have read the contract?”

“I have,” Zhongli answered for the both of them. In truth, between the two of them, he was the only one who actually read the agreement from start to finish, as befitting of the God of Contracts. Venti, meanwhile, had skimmed through it and said that he trusted Zhongli’s judgement.

Which was flattering, but the Geo Archon really thought that he should teach the Anemo Archon the importance of reading the fine print one of these days.

“Alright, then it’ll be 60,000 mora per month. You’ll pay at the end of each month, no questions asked. You can buy furniture if you like, but you can’t sell or destroy any that’s already in there. If, for example, you two accidentally break the table or bed, then you two will need to pay for its replacement. On the other hand, if you don’t like the current furniture, you can talk to me and I’ll arrange for a new one to be delivered—as long as you have the mora, of course.”

Zhongli nodded, “Of course.”

“Any permanent changes, such as painting the walls or hammering nails into them, goes through me,” she continued listing the rules, “Also, this is for the bard: You may sing from your window at morning or night, but if your singing is terrible then we will file a noise complaint, and if it’s so awful then you will be sued. The last bard who thought it was a good idea to sing in the morning have a chicken’s voice, so it was like being woken up by a tortured rooster every day.”

Venti laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ve won the Carmen Dei competition twice in a row. You won’t hear any chicken voice from me!”

The landlady gave a tepid smile, “Ah, so you must be that Venti then. Very well then. Just make sure to keep the singing to reasonable hours.”

“Will do~”

“Alright, is there any questions?” When neither of them said anything, she continued, “Then the deposit will be 30,000 mora.”

Zhongli glanced at Venti. Since he had traded away his Gnosis, he no longer possessed the ability to make mora on the go, rendering him penniless for the first time in thousands of years. Thankfully, Venti came prepared.

“Here you go,” the windborne bard took out the pouch of mora he had prepared beforehand and gave it to her.

The landlady raised a brow, her gaze flitting towards him for a moment. Zhongli supposed that, between him and Venti, the one who looked rich was him. He returned her glance with a stoic stare, until she averted her eyes.

“Seems like everything’s in order then,” she stashed the mora pouch in her bag, before handing two keys and a piece of paper to him, “Here’s the keys to your apartment and a copy of the contract. If anything happens, you can find me at the address written on it.”

“Thank you,” Zhongli replied solemnly, tucking the keys and contract away into his coat pocket as if she had given him a missive from the Tianquan herself. As the God of Contracts, anything that have to do with contracts must be taken with the utmost seriousness.

Venti didn’t seem to share his seriousness though, too excited at the prospect of their new home. “Come on!” The wind god pulled his hand, running up to the door, “Let’s check it out!”

“Wait! Be careful of the stairs!”

Zhongli couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s excitement, ignoring the landlady’s warning. At the very least, this seemed to be a good start to his new life.

The first time they went up the stairs of their new home, both of them somehow managed to trip and fell.

“Ouch...” Venti rubbed his head.

“Uff...” Zhongli grimaced, patting his jaw. Falling face first against the hardwood floor hurt, but thankfully it didn’t hurt that much to the former war god.

It must have been the excitement getting to them, causing them to make a regular mortal mistake such as tripping on the stairs. Thankfully, no one saw them nor knew who they truly were. It would be embarrassing for the two Archons to admit they were beaten by stairs.

Still, Zhongli frowned as he glanced at the stairs, he was pretty sure there was nothing that could’ve tripped them there.

Their new apartment was located on the second floor, the door to it marked with the number ‘23’. When Venti unlocked the wooden door, they saw a small, studio apartment with a single bed. In front of the bed was a cozy, long bench right underneath the window, and by the far wall was the ‘kitchen’ area, consisting only of a stove, sink, a small table and two chairs, fireplace and small cabinet for food storage. On the other end of the room, next to the ‘kitchen’, was the bathroom.

Venti smiled as they stepped in, closing the door behind him, “Looks cozy enough.”

Zhongli eyed the sparse establisment, nodding, “Yes, it looks good.”

It was very small for two adults (or one adult and half, considering Venti’s young appearance), but both have agreed that they didn’t need much more than a space they could call their own. After all, they had lived on less; they could make this work. With a little effort, this could be their new home.

“I think we should get some small pots over here,” Venti said as he sat on the window-side couch and opened the windows, “Maybe we can get a cecilia from Starsnatch Cliff and a lamp grass from the Whispering Woods. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Zhongli replied, sitting on the other end of the couch. He looked out the window, admiring the view of the marketplace, “Maybe we can also have a glaze lily and qingxin here too.”

Nodding, Venti turned to look at their shared bed, “Hmm...the room didn’t come with bedsheets, pillows or blankets, so we need to buy our own. By the way,” he looked at the closet next to the bed, “Did you bring any clothes?”

Zhongli shook his head, “No, I only bring what I have on me.”

“Yeah, thought as much,” Venti laughed a little, “I got all my stuff inside that bag Guizhong gave me thousands of years ago. Do you remember that? Anyway, we should get you some new clothes too later.”

“I remember,” How could he forget? That was the first time Venti visited him in Liyue. He glanced at their tiny kitchen/dining area, “We’ll also need to buy some food.”

“We should make a list,” After saying so, Venti produced a sheet of paper from his bag and a pen, before heading to their table to write down all their new necessities.

Zhongli joined him on the table, smiling. Excitement fluttered in his heart as he discussed with Venti all the minutiae of their new home. Deciding on what flowers to get to decorate their home, the types of sheets they wanted for their bed, the food they would eat later that night...

All of these were so trivial compared to country-shaping decisions he had to make in Liyue, yet Zhongli loved every second of it.

When they left their apartment, Zhongli noticed a Hydro seal on the door next to their building.

“A hydromancer must live here,” the earth god remarked, looking at the intricate seal. And a quite skilled one too.

“I don’t think anyone is home right now,” Venti peered at the house, tilting his head, “Maybe we can visit them later? To introduce ourselves as their neighbours?”

Zhongli nodded, “That sounds like a good idea.”

A housewarming gift is a must, Zhongli thought, already thinking of what food to make to endear themselves to their new neighbour. Perhaps they would like some Liyuean cuisine, or a Mondstadt speciality?  

“How are you able to afford all this?” Zhongli asked as they walked through the marketplace. In his hands were their grocery bags, filled to the brim with food and toiletries. To a regular human, the weight would have been quite heavy, but for Zhongli who used to heft mountains as spears, they were actually very light.

Venti walked in front of him with their bed sheets, blankets, and pillows in his arms, “Well, to be honest, I’ve been thinking of doing this for a while now. So I’ve been saving up the tips I get whenever I sing.”

“I thought you spent all your money on wine,” Zhongli replied. The statement may have seemed mocking if it came from someone else, but from him, it was genuinely curious, “Either that, or you have your listeners buy you wine for your songs.”

“That is true,” Venti laughed, “But like I said, I’ve been planning this for a while now, so I’ve saved up a little nest egg on the side.”

“Thank you,” the earth god said sincerely.

“Ah, don’t mention it!” The windborne bard shrugged it off with a grin, “Though I think I’ll run out of mora after this. Ahh...guess I need to get a job...”

Zhongli tilted his head, “Why don’t you become an official entertainer in a tavern? Like how some teahouses in Liyue employed certain storytellers full time. You certainly have more than enough skill to do so.”

“Hmm...didn’t think about that,” Venti admitted, thoughtfully looking up at the sky, “Maybe I should ask Master Diluc if I can work full time in Angel’s Share, or at least become one of his regular bards. That way I can get a stable source of income for our rent. Besides, he knowsme.”

Zhongli quickly glanced at the wind god, “He knows you?”

“Oh, I haven’t told you yet?” Venti paused, peering up at him, “He and the Acting Grandmaster Jean, along with Lumine, helped me reconcile with Dvalin. They know who I am now. Don’t worry though, Master Diluc and Acting Grandmaster Jean are good people. They won’t tell anyone about that.”

That was...well. Zhongli trusted Venti to know what he was doing when it came to important matters such as their identities as Archons. Sure, the bard-god seemed very carefree and happy-go-lucky, but he knew that Venti have a serious side as well. If Venti vouched for them, then Zhongli would believe in his judgement unless proven otherwise.

“If you say so,” Zhongli said, setting the matter aside for now.

“Hmm,” Venti hummed. Suddenly, he stopped in front of a building, “Oh, look! A clothes shop. We can get new clothes for you here.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend’s enthusiasm as the wind god bounded up to the store. He didn’t really need new clothes, but it was nice that Venti was offering to pay for some. As they entered the shop—the bell tinkling overhead to signal their entrance—Zhongli noted that he was smiling quite a lot today.

After their shopping trip, they had decided to return to their new apartment to put away their purchases. There was just one, small problem...

“Ouch!” Venti yelped as he tripped on the stairs again, the pillows in his arms falling down onto the hardwood floor.

“Uff...” Zhongli muttered again, frowning as he looked at the groceries that had spilled from their shopping bags when he fell.

“What’s up with that stair?” Grumbled Venti as he bent down to pick their purchases, “This is the second time today!”

“Perhaps we should be a bit more careful when going up these stairs...” Zhongli murmured, recalling the landlady’s words from earlier that day.

“Right, right...”

They picked up their purchases and set them inside their room, not knowing that this was far from their last battle against the stairs.

It was nearing sunset when they arrived at Starsnatch Cliff.

For regular mortals, the trip from Mondstadt to Starsnatch Cliff would take a few days even for those with the swiftest of feet, but for the two who were the oldest among the Seven, it took only a few minutes to travel there. The longest part, actually, was placing their groceries in the proper places inside their new apartment. With such a small space, they had needed to be smart when organising things.

It had taken a while, but Zhongli thought that their apartment looked much homier already.

Venti reformed his physical body next to him, just as Zhongli appeared from the earth. As a wind spirit, the Anemo Archon could easily become one with the wind, even without his Gnosis. Meanwhile, as a ancient adeptus, Zhongli had long since learnt how to become one with the earth and travel through the ground.

Venti grinned at him, “Hey, you didn’t get lost this time.”

“It was only one time,” Zhongli grumbled, knowing what his friend was referring to.

“Sure, sure,” the wind god laughed, not at all convinced. He ran up the hill, spreading his arms out wide when he reached the cliff, “Ah, the wind feels so good!”

The wind didn’t feel that different to him, though as a wind spirit, Zhongli supposed that Venti would be more sensitive to the fluctuations in the air than himself. The Geo Archon could admit though, that the air did indeed feel fresher here than in the city.

“The scent of the sea reminds me of Liyue,” remarked Zhongli as he walked up to his friend’s side, looking at the horizon, “The view is beautiful here.”

“Yeah, it is...” A happy, content smile was on Venti’s face. Zhongli wished he brought his brush and paper with him so that he could paint it. Alas, all he could do was stare at him from the corner of his eyes and make sure he remember this moment forever.

After a while, Venti took a deep breath and grinned, “Alright! Time to look for a cecilia!”

“I leave you to it,” Zhongli replied, sitting down and facing the horizon. He would help, but Venti was the one who knew which was the best cecilia for them to pick, being incredibly familiar with the flower. It was the same with Zhongli and the glaze lilies and qingxin of his region. Both of them naturally knew their dominions better than the other.

“Okay!” He heard Venti exclaimed, before he saw him zipping off to look for the wind-blown white flower.

With a chuckle, Zhongli laid down on the grass, folding his arms behind his head to use as a makeshift pillow. When he closed his eyes, the scent of the sea drifted up by the wind reminded him of Liyue, but the cecilia’s fragrance reminded him that he was no longer bound to his duties. He recalled Venti’s—Barbatos’—blessing, “You are free.”

Smiling, Zhongli drifted off to sleep.

Ah, the wind really does feel good here.

On the left-hand side of their windowsill, sat a cecilia and a qingxin. Meanwhile, on the opposite side, a small lamp grass glowed beside a blooming glaze lily.

Perfect, Zhongli thought, looking at them fondly.

Their house felt a little more like a home.

That night, they cooked dinner together.

Zhongli had cooked with others before—such as when he met up with the other adepti on Mount Aozang—but this was the first time in centuries that he cooked inside his—their—home with another person. The fact that this other person was Venti and that this would be the first dinner in a new chapter of his life made it all the more special. He couldn’t help but smile, It feels nice to share this moment with someone.

Currently, Venti was chopping up carrots, having proclaimed that he would make his specialty dish to celebrate the occasion. Zhongli couldn’t wait; he remembered how delicious Venti’s ratatouille was. For his part, Zhongli decided he would make Adeptus’ Temptation and some almond tofu for desert.

The ingredients for Zhongli’s choice of food was expensive, considering that they required quite a few items that were hard to come by in Mondstadt, but Venti had waved off the price and said, “This is your first night here. Let’s go all out and celebrate!”

Once again, Zhongli felt grateful to have Venti as a friend.

It was difficult for two people to cook using only one stove, so Venti had to take out the Adepti’s Seeker Stove that he had stored in his green messenger bag. Zhongli remembered teaching him how to craft that portable stove, a long, long time ago.

When their food was ready, Zhongli couldn’t help but stepped back to admire their creation.

Their small table was positively ladened with food. Zhongli’s Adeptus Temptation shared the center with Venti’s special ratatouille, A Buoyant Breeze. Next to it was a plate of almond tofu, its sweet scent mingling with the smell of seafood and vegetables. Last, but not the least, Venti had surprised him by baking a moon pie, one of Mondstadt’s specialty dishes which was commonly served during festivals.

“Dig in!” Venti cheered, plopping himself down on a chair. He rummaged around his bag, “Oh yeah, before I forget, here you go!”

He pulled out a wine bottle from his bag, brandishing it like a trophy. Zhongli raised his brow, amused, as he accepted the bottle of wine.

“I dug up a vintage wine I had buried in Windrise,” Venti explained, “It’s at least three hundred years old and kept nice and cool by the Anemo power concentrated in Windrise, so it should do for the occasion.”

“Thank you,” Zhongli said, opening the bottle. He poured the wine into their cups before sitting down, facing Venti.

“A toast then, my good friend,” the windborne bard grinned, raising his glass up, “To you, to our new apartment, and to a new start!”

Grinning back, Zhongli lifted his glass, “Cheers.”

They clinked their glasses together. The warmth of the wine that flowed down his throat was nothing compared to the warmth he felt in his heart.

It was only after they have taken a shower and changed into their night clothes did they realise they have a problem.

“So...” Venti began. His braids were undone and he wore nothing more than a light green shirt and a pair of white shorts, “I think you should take the bed.”

Zhongli shook his head, his hair loose from its customary ponytail. Like Venti, he had changed out of his usual suit to a much more relaxed (newly purchased, thanks to Venti) brown shirt with black shorts, “No, I think you should sleep there.”

“You can’t sleep on the couch,” Venti pointed out, “It’s too small for you, but it would fit me.”

Zhongli frowned, crossing his arms, “Would it even be comfortable for you to sleep there?”

Venti shrugged, loose hair splaying over his shoulders, “It’s fine. I’m used to sleeping on branches and other stuff, remember?”

Just because you’re used to it, doesn’t mean that you have to do it when there are better options, Zhongli thought, saying, “We can share.”

As soon as the words escaped his lips, Zhongli realised his mistake.

“Uhh...” Venti stared at him, a red blush colouring his cheeks. Zhongli, too, could feel his cheeks heating up.

Trying to salvage the situation (without revealing anything more), Zhongli coughed into his hand, “I mean, if both of us are still, the bed would fit both of us...”

Venti continued staring at him. Feeling more than a little awkward, Zhongli laid down on his side on the bed. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Venti staring at him for a while, before—cheeks still red—the wind god slowly settled down behind him, facing the opposite direction.

Right, this is fine, Zhongli reasoned, shutting his eyes and trying to calm his heart, We just have to do it because there’s only one bed. That’s all.

Quietly, he heard a rustle of movement before he felt their respective blankets being draped over them by Venti’s Anemo powers. The windborne bard softly called out, “...Good night.”

“Good night,” Zhongli replied. Despite the awkwardness, a small smile flitted across his face. It felt nice to both hear and say ‘good night’ to someone.

With another gust of Anemo magic, Venti blew out the candles. The room descended into a gentle darkness, broken only by the slivers of moonlight that slipped through the curtains and the faint glow of the small lamp grass by the windowsill. Zhongli took a deep breath, before softly exhaling.

This was the first day of his new life.

He smiled, falling asleep.

Today was a good day.

That night, they slept facing the opposite direction.

The next morning, Venti woke up with his face nuzzled in Zhongli’s chest, the Geo Archon’s arm over his body while his chin was on top of the Anemo Archon’s head, drawing him closer into the sleeping embrace.

Chapter Text

Once a year, Mondstadt holds a competition to find the best singer in all of Teyvat. In honour of their patron god and Archon, they named it Carmen Dei—God of Songs.

In the City of Bards, songs flowed like wine, and poetry was the soul of the Land of Wind. It was only natural, then, for the citizens of Mondstadt to undertake this competition seriously, and soon enough the Carmen Dei contest was known throughout all of Teyvat. Singers and bards from all over the world would flock to the City of Freedom to participate in this thousands of years old contest, hoping to win the greatest fame and acclamation on the land. For if they received recognition in the Land of Wind and Song, during the week of the prestigious contest, then surely they would be set for life.

Most of the contestants had eyes on the promised fame and wealth, but a few sought to compete for one other reason. Originally, the Carmen Dei competition was conducted in honour of Lord Barbatos, who was said to be the best bard under the heavens. The winner of the competition, then, would be granted the honour to play the divine instrument of the Anemo Archon—the Holy Lyre der Himmel—on New Year’s Eve, ushering the new year with a song as it was told in Barbatos’ legends.

Venti didn’t care about any of that.

Truth be told, he already knew that he was the best bard under the heavens, and saw no need to prove it to others. In fact, he enjoyed watching the competition from the sidelines, and listening to the winners play his original lyre on New Year’s Eve. Besides, it would be difficult to hide and pretend he was mortal if he went out to distinguish himself in the competition.

Yet this year, something tempted him to participate.

This year, Diluc Ragnvindr had proclaimed that the winner of Carmen Dei would also win a year’s worth of free alcohol—straight from Dawn Winery’s famed orchards—in addition to the other grand prizes the winner usually received.

And well, there was no way Venti could turn down free wine!

“Hey, Zhongli! Zhongli!”

Zhongli looked up from the papers he was reading, deep at work once again in his Dwelling in the Clouds, far above Qingyun Peak. His longtime friend (and secret crush), flown into the floating pavilion on white wings, grinning widely in the midday sun. Despite the serious matters that the Anemo Archon had distracted him from, the Geo Archon couldn’t help but smile at the other god’s exuberance.

“Yes, Venti?” He asked, chuckling softly as he reached for a cup of osmanthus tea that he had left untouched on the corner of his paperwork-filled desk. Zhongli frowned briefly when he took a sip and realised that it had gone cold while he was working.

How many hours have elapsed since he made this tea and now?

Wait, didn’t he started working at dawn?

“Look at this!” Venti thrusted a piece of paper to his face, distracting him from his thoughts.

Zhongli took it, quickly reading through it, “It’s a flyer for the annual Carmen Dei competition in Mondstadt.”

“Yup, but there’s more,” Venti nodded, so giddy that he was practically bouncing in his seat. A fresh wave of fondness threatened to overtook him, and Zhongli had to lightly pinched his own thigh to stay focused. The wind god didn’t notice his distraction, continuing on, “Look at the reward! It says that the winner of this year’s Carmen Dei will get a year’s worth of free alcohol!”

The earth god glanced down at the flyer in his hand, and noticed that, yes, it did state that on the fine print. But it also said...

“Free wine from the Dawn Winery...” the bright smile on the wind god’s face took on a dream-like quality as Venti fantasised about the prize, “Just one bottle is great enough, but a year’s worth? I gotta participate.”

Zhongli tried to warn him, “Yes, but...”

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything dumb to reveal my identity,” Venti laughed, waving off what he assumed was Zhongli’s concerns, “Besides, it’s been at least a thousand years since Barbatos showed up in Mondstadt. They wouldn’t think a random, unknown bard would be him.”

“That’s true, but—”

“The time and date of the competition is on the flyer,” Venti continued on, too caught up in his excitement to notice Zhongli’s attempts at warning him. He grinned at the earth god, bright and cheerful, “You’ll come, won’t you? This’ll be the first time I stand on such a grand stage in, well, millenniums!”

Seeing such an expectant, happy look on his dear friend’s face, what other answer could Zhongli possibly reply with except: “Yes, of course I’ll come.”

Somehow, Venti’s already bright smile became even brighter. Zhongli absently thought that it might just threatened to outshone the sun. Then, all thoughts fizzled out from his brain when Venti dashed around the desk and glomped him.

Yes, glomped, not hugged. As in: a full-body tackle that left the former war god both reeling and breathless.

Zhongli’s thoughts could be easily summarised by the following words: !!!!!!

Truly, such eloquence from the renowned God of Contracts.

“Thank you!” he heard Venti exclaimed next to his ears, “You’re the best, Zhongli!”

“Ah...well...” Celestia, Zhongli could feel his face heating up. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around his friend and patted his back, hoping that Venti didn’t notice his racing heartbeat, “You’re...welcome...?”

Regrettably, Venti pulled back before Zhongli could say anything more. Grinning, the God of Freedom stated, “Then I’ll see you there!”

Before Zhongli could try to warn him again, the wind god had disappeared with the breeze. He blinked, before sighing and shaking his head fondly. Comes in like the wind and leaves just as fast, Zhongli laughed softly to himself, That is very much like him.

The flyer that had started it all drifted onto his desk. Zhongli stared at it, before laughing quietly again as he folded the paper and tucked it into his coat pocket. He would tell Venti when he met him next.

That was not what happened.

“Why would you do that?” Guizhong had asked him later that night, when they met up for dinner on Mount Aozang. She grinned mischievously, “This is the perfect prank!”

Zhongli gave her a flat stare as he poured more wine onto their cups, “Because he’s our friend and I don’t want to hurt him?”

“As if he’s going to get hurt because of that,” his longtime friend laughed, waving off his concerns. She raised her cup and gave him a trickster’s smile as she drank, “Besides, he has already signed up for this, didn’t he? It’s his own fault that he didn’t read the terms and conditions.”

“I agree, but...” As the God of Contracts, Zhongli knew very well how important it was to read the fine print from start to finish. If someone didn’t put the necessary amount of due diligence before signing the contract, then the consequences were theirs to bear. On the other hand, this was Venti, his longtime friend and secret crush...

As if reading his mind, the Goddess of Dust smirked.

“Come ooonnn,” his other longtime friend whined, grinning teasingly, “I know you have a huge crush on him, but this is the perfect prank! Think about his reaction at the end of this. Besides, we both know that he’s not the type to hold a grudge, especially over something like this. It’s practically harmless.”

Zhongli wavered, “Yes, but—”

“It’ll be fun!” She sidled up next to him, throwing one arm over his shoulders. The scent of lotus wine hit him and Zhongli wondered if perhaps Guizhong had a little too much drink tonight. His friend winked, “You know that he’ll find it funny too, after some time pass.”

In the end, after much needling and teasing, Zhongli caved. He rarely won an argument against Guizhong, even when the former goddess was drunk. Sighing, Zhongli took a small sip of his wine, “Fine, I won’t tell him.”

“Great!” The normally refined immortal pumped a fist into the air. Zhongli thought that she would have a terrible hangover in the morning. Guizhong grinned at him, “I knew you have a prankster side too!”

Zhongli laughed softly, indulging in a bit more wine. Next to him, Guizhong chatted on, keeping him up to date with the latest gossip or scandal in Liyue Harbour. Or, as she once mockingly put it: the long-running, real life drama that she called ‘The Real Housewives of Yujing Terrace’.

Not for the first time, Zhongli was struck by how similar Guizhong and Venti were. No wonder those two get along so well together...

He couldn’t help the smile flicking up his face, the tension of the day’s work melting away in the presence of his friend and the prospect of their ‘prank’. Venti wouldn’t mind this, he hoped, and well...it might just teach his windborne friend the importance of reading the fine print.

“You came!” Venti greeted them a few moments after he and Guizhong passed Mondstadt’s gates. The windborne bard bounded up to them, grinning, “And Guizhong came too! I know that it’s going to be a great day when a lovely lady such as yourself come by.”

Guizhong laughed a little, giving a teasing smile, “It’s great to see you too, Venti. Mondstadt’s fine weather truly matches its Archon’s temperament.”

“Hehehe...” Venti replied, cheeks turning the slightest bit red, “Why, you praise me too much, my fair lady.”

“I only speak the truth.”

It was a good thing that Zhongli knew Guizhong for thousands of years, or else he might just feel jealous at how easily she and Venti flirted with each other. As it was, he knew that Guizhong saw Venti more like a cute little brother than anything else, and any flirtation on her part was simply for fun and not meant to be taken seriously. On Venti’s part though...

Zhongli coughed into his fist.

He ignored Guizhong’s knowing smirk as he asked Venti, “When will your performance begin?”

Venti answered, nearly jumping up and down in excitement, “Soon. The competition will be held in front of the giant Anemo Archon statue in front of the cathedral. The contestants are asked to come by earlier though to prepare.”

“I see,” Zhongli replied, “I would wish you good luck, but I know that you don’t need it.”

“Hahaha,” A red blush streaked its way across the other god’s cheeks, “Thanks!”

“You must be really excited,” Guizhong noted, smiling kindly, “This is your first time performing in such a large crowd in thousands of years, isn’t it?”

Venti nodded, “Yeah...but I’m really excited about it! Kinda nervous, but mostly excited.”

“That’s good to hear,” she reached down to pat the shorter god’s head, chuckling when he tried to duck her hand, “I’m sure you’ll win, but still, good luck.”

The Anemo Archon neaten his hat after she had patted it, standing straight and beaming, “I will, thanks.”

The three chatted for a bit longer, eventually drifting to Good Hunter’s. Despite the increased foot traffic due to the international competition, the trio managed to snagged a seat outside and ordered a large sticky honey roast. As for payment...

Guizhong and Venti both looked at Zhongli.

“I don’t bring any mora this time,” Guizhong stated, unashamed.

“I’m broke too,” Venti added, equally shameless.

Sighing, Zhongli shook his head fondly as he resigned himself to being their wallet during their visit to Mondstadt. Usually, he would have billed any purchases to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour or Childe from the Fatui (because he didn’t want to use this ‘trick’ as ‘Zhongli’...most of the time, anyway), but that only worked in Liyue. Outside of his dominion, he had to rely on his ability to create mora.

If I wish to live like a mortal, then I need to learn how to live without this ability, Zhongli thought, as he discreetly created enough money to pay for their meal.

Of course, only time would tell whether or not he would be successful in this particular budgeting feat...

After their impromptu lunch, Venti left them early to prepare for his performance. “I’ll see you two later!” He had exclaimed, as he left with a gust of wind.

“Well,” Guizhong smirked, leaning back against her seat, “There goes the love of your life.”

Zhongli stared at her flatly, “Guizhong.”

“What?” She grinned, wagging her finger at him, “Remember, no telling. It’ll be much more fun if he finds out on his own.”

He sighed. Why was he friends with her again? “You are a terrible influence.”

“You mean the best,” the Goddess of Dust replied, slinging one arm over his shoulders. She glanced at the many female musicians that had gathered in the City of Wind and Freedom for the event, each wearing the distinctive clothings of their native regions, “Now, how about you be my wingman and help me chat with some ladies?”

The Geo Archon laughed, “As if you need my help to flirt.”

“True,” Guizhong smiled slyly, “But maybe you can learn a trick or two from watching me. Who knows, maybe a certain wind god would be receptive to it...”

He coughed into his wine, almost choking on it. Beside him, Guizhong—his worst best friend ever—laughed and slapped his back.

The week long music competition was truly a blast. Musicians from all four corners of the world gathered in the City of Wind and Freedom to compete and perform on the grandest stage that a singer could hope for. Truly, it was a festival worthy for the one who bear the title of Carmen Dei—the God of Songs.

The people of Mondstadt hoped that this music festival would please their god. Zhongli knew that Venti loved it.

There were some musicians that he knew of, their reputation carried far by the wind. There was Xinyan, the Blazing Rift, from Liyue, whose music was always a tad too loud for Zhongli, but he appreciated her passion nonetheless. There was also an idol from the isolated Inazuma, an opera singer hailing from Fontaine, and more from all sorts of walks of life.

Not all of them came to participate in the competition, though. Some of them, such as the aforementioned Xinyan, was invited to perform by the contest committee, to entertain the crowd while the contestants rest. Others came simply to mingle with fellow musicians; this once-in-a-year event serving as a great place to gather and checked up on long-time friends and acquaintances.

In the end, after a week of seemingly endless music, a winner was decided by seven judges.

Originally, the judges for Carmen Dei were all chosen from Mondstadt’s foremost experts, leaders, and musicians. As the competition gained international appeal, however, seven expert musicians from each of the seven countries were instead chosen to be judges for this grand event, to eliminate any suspicion of bias towards one’s country of origins.

Now, as Zhongli sat with Guizhong among the crowd, he could see Venti’s bright, nervous smile from the stage.

“Why does he look so nervous?” Guizhong chuckled, “He got this in the bag.”

That was true. During the week that had led up to this moment, Zhongli saw his friend performed like he never did before. Perhaps it was due to the thrill of performing in front such a large crowd for the first time in over two thousand years, or perhaps he was simply carried along by the festive atmosphere, but whatever the reason, Venti’s music carried a charm that could only be described as ‘otherworldly’. No wonder Barbatos was hailed as the best bard in Teyvat.

On the first day, Venti had sang a moving ballad, driving the crowd (including Zhongli and Guizhong) to quiet tears, followed by a thunderous applause. The second day had him play a raunchy song that almost got him eliminated because of its borderline explicit content, though he was saved by his incredible skills and the audience’s protests. The day after that, Venti played such a moving, romantic serenade that Zhongli spotted more than one couple confessing that night.

To be honest, he almost confessed that night too.

Day four found Venti singing an adventurous, exciting song that left the crowd feeling like they were caught in a tempest, as he ripped through his lyre with the same dizzying fervour that Xinyan played her guitar. More than a few joined the Adventurer’s Guild that day. On the fifth day, he sang an ancient ode to the winds and rolling green fields of Mondstadt, so touching in its sincerity that foreigners to the Land of Wind decided to buy some souvenirs to take back home. The sixth day had him play a brand new song, one that was as fresh as a breeze and incredibly catchy.

On the last day, he sang a ballad to the god that presided secretly over the Country of Songs—Barbatos, the Carmen Dei. The amount of new followers that the Church of Favonius gained after that performance reached an all-time record high.

And now, after seven days of amazing performance, the winner of the Carmen Dei contest was about to be announced.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Gentlefolk from all the world over!” Barbara, Deaconess of the Anemo Archon and beloved idol of Mondstadt, announced with a smile, “We present to you the winner of this year’s Carmen Dei!”

The drums rolled, building up excitement. Zhongli could practically taste the tension in the air. Despite believing for certain that his friend would win, the Geo Archon couldn’t help but lean forward in anticipation.

“This year’s winner is...!” Barbara swept a hand towards the victorious musician, “Venti!”

A raucous applause exploded from the crowd. Zhongli winced at the sound, but he smiled and clapped along with them. Next to him, Guizhong cheered and waved at Venti.

Venti, for his part, looked stunned, despite having told them that he would most definitely win. Zhongli supposed that it was because he wasn’t used to such a reaction from his audience. Usually, the Anemo Archon played alone in front of the birds and flowers, sang to a drunken audience, or on the side of the street where people tended to ignore him. It was actually quite rare for the God of Freedom to perform in front of such large, captivated crowds.

He deserves this, Zhongli thought, watching as realisation sunk in and Venti began beaming, basking in the praise, I wish I can see him like this more often.

As Venti accepted the audience’s cheers, a man with flaming red hair and jet-black clothes approached him, carrying a golden trophy carved in the likeness of the Anemo Archon. That, Zhongli knew, both from news and the glimpses he caught whenever the man had business in Liyue, was the current owner of Dawn Winery, Diluc Ragnvindr.

“Congratulations,” He heard Diluc congratulated Venti when the crowd hushed down. As he handed the trophy to the windborne bard, the redhead said, “You’ve won the greatest honour a musician can ever achieve on our land, and with it, the right to play the Anemo Archon’s holy lyre on New Year’s Eve.”

“Thanks!” Venti replied, accepting the trophy with both hands, “But I’m more interested in the wine you promised.”

Diluc tilted his head, “What wine?”

Hearing this, Zhongli winced, even as he saw confusion set in Venti’s eyes. Next to him, Guizhong looked like she was ready to cackle.

“Uh, the wine you promised to the winner of Carmen Dei...?” Venti smiled uncertainly, clutching the trophy close to his chest, “The flyer said that the winner will get a year’s worth of free alcohol from the Dawn Winery.”

“Oh, yes,” Diluc nodded, “But that’s only for those over the legal drinking age in Mondstadt. If you’re under it, then you’ll get a year’s worth of non-alcoholic beverages courtesy of Dawn Winery instead.”

“What!?” Venti screamed, eyes turning wide, “Noooooooooooooooooo!!!!!”

To his credit, Diluc waited until he had finished wailing before he stated flatly, “Yes.”

(Among the crowd, Zhongli winced at his friend’s despair. Next to him, Guizhong fell off her seat, laughing.)

Chapter Text

Alright, fine, so it was his fault that he didn’t read the fine print.

But Venti couldn’t help it! When wine was involved, then all thoughts went out the window. Especially if it was wine from the Dawn Winery. There was no better wine in the world than, in Venti’s humble opinion, the ones made in Mondstadt.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t get the wine he worked so hard for because he didn’t read the small text at the bottom of the flyer that stated: If the winner of Carmen Dei is below the legal drinking age in Mondstadt, then they would receive a year’s worth of non-alcoholic drinks instead, courtesy of the Dawn Winery.

Which was incredibly unfair because Venti was older than the city!

He couldn’t say that, though. “Hey, I’m actually Barbatos, you know, the god you worship? I’m much older than even this country.” As if anyone would believe that, least of all Diluc Ragnvindr.

It was in times like these that he wished that his old friend didn’t die so young. Well, there were other reasons why he wished for that, mostly because Venti wanted him to see the world and the birds that he loved so much in flight before he died. This was, however, one of the reasons that often popped up whenever he was confronted with his inability to simply buy wine due to his appearance.

Zhongli had once asked him why he didn’t just aged up his appearance if it bothered him so much. Venti had answered that he couldn’t because this was the age his first friend had died in. Zhongli had became incredibly quiet after that.

Venti didn’t like to admit it, but he was afraid that, if he changed his appearance, he would forget what he looked like.

As much as he tried to remember, there were things that would eventually became forgotten. He had written it all down as best as he could in songs, but even those ballads would eventually be swept by the winds of time. Already, Venti knew that he had already forgotten some things about his first friend.

He wondered how Zhongli lived with his memories, or more specifically, the ones that he eventually forgot.

But anyway, the matter of his appearance aside, Venti currently faced a certain issue that his divine abilities couldn’t solve: Diluc Ragnvindr didn’t believe that he was legally allowed to drink alcohol.

Thankfully, there was one way to solve this.

“If you’re truly legally allowed to drink wine,” Diluc had said at the end of the contest, “Then just show me proof of it, like an ID or birth certificate or something.”

So this was Venti’s main task now: To become a legal citizen of Mondstadt!

Technically speaking, Venti was a citizen of Mondstadt.

However, since he predated the founding of the city on Cider Lake (and left the new Mondstadt shortly after terraforming the land and decreeing that everyone have the right to be free), he never actually got legal citizenship. Add that to the fact that he has a habit of sleeping in for centuries, and that he was born an elemental instead of a human, then well...Venti simply never saw the need for it.

Besides, he blended with mortals well enough that it never mattered before now. All people had to do was take one look at him and they instantly knew that he was from Mondstadt. Furthermore, as the whole problem with the prize wine showed, Venti was never good with reading the technicalities.

Thankfully, he knew someone who did.

“You knew about this from the beginning,” Venti crossed his arms, frowning—more like pouting to Zhongli and Guizhong—up at the God of Contracts. They were currently seated in a small, quiet corner at Good Hunter’s, waiting for their order of sticky honey roast to arrive.

“Forgive me, my friend,” Zhongli replied solemnly, though his amber eyes held a twinkle of mirth, “Guizhong talked me into it.”

“Oh, you’re gonna blame me now for it?” Said former goddess lightly punched her friend on the shoulder, laughing, “But yeah, you should’ve seen your face, Venti.”

“Hmph,” Venti crossed his arms, glaring at them, though it was hard to take him seriously when it was clear he wasn’t that mad. He stated, “Well, it’s your fault that I didn’t get the wine, so you guys are gonna help me!”

“It’s more like your fault for not reading everything,” Guizhong pointed out, amused, “Reading the terms and conditions is the basics when it comes to agreeing to a contract.”

“Fine, fine,” Venti pouted, “But you two are still gonna help me, okay?”

Zhongli chuckled, “Very well, Venti. What do you need our help for?”

Almost instantly, the wind god perked up. He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, grinning widely, “So, I’ve talked to Master Diluc about the prize wine. He said that, as long as I show proof that I’m legally old enough to drink, then he’ll allow me to get it.”

“And how will you provide proof?” Guizhong raised a brow, “You can’t tell him that you’re actually his god. Unless you show him your Gnosis or perform some kind of divine miracle, he wouldn’t believe it.”

“Easy,” Venti answered, “I’ll just become a Mondstadt citizen!”

Both adepti blinked, trying to understand how he had jumped to that conclusion.

“Master Diluc said that if I can show him official documentation, like an ID or a birth certificate or something, then I can get my wine,” Venti grinned, “Sooo, I thought, what better way than becoming a Mondstadt citizen? That way I can get the proof I need!”

“I don’t think you’ll convince anyone that you’re old enough to drink,” said Zhongli.

“I’ll just tell the officials that I have a baby face or something,” Venti replied, “Come on, surely you two know how to do this? I know Zhongli have a house on Mount Tianheng. Doesn’t that require some paperwork to maintain? Plus, Zhongli, you do paperwork all the time.”

“We’re familiar with Liyue’s laws,” Guizhong returned, “Mondstadt’s though...we’re not sure about that.”

Venti pouted, “Pleasseeeee...”

Zhongli glanced at Guizhong, who chuckled and shrugged. Both of them already knew his answer.

“Alright,” Zhongli spoke, looking directly at Venti, “We’ll help.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Venti cheered, jumping up to hug the earth god, “You’re the best, Zhongli!”

As Zhongli’s cheeks turned red and he tried to awkwardly returned the hug, Guizhong laughed softly. Raising her cup of wine to her lips, her quiet murmur went unheard by the two gods:

“You are so whipped, my friend.”

In Liyue, there were several ministries in charge of civilian administration tasks, such as fishing, agriculture, mining, trade, and more. This, along with the seven merchants who formed the Liyue Qixing at the top, meant that there were multiple factions involved in the running of Liyue, all working together under the laws Morax had decreed for them since time immemorial like a well-oiled—if complicated—machine.

Zhongli knew each of these factions and the laws that bound them like the back of his hands.

In Mondstadt, however, things were run differently. Since Barbatos had decreed that there should be no single ruler over Mondstadt, the people had taken to running a decentralised government, with three major groups keeping each other in check. The Knights of Favonius were the military face and the peacekeepers of Mondstadt, while the Church conducted important rites and managed the faith of the people. The last group, the Civilian Oversight Committee (or COC for short), was the least known one, but managed the important logistics and paperwork necessary for an ordinary citizen’s life.

It was to this group that the trio went to in order to get Venti legal citizenship in Mondstadt.

“Oh, you’re that bard who won this year’s Carmen Dei!” The staff greeted them when they approached the reception area, “Welcome to the Civilian Oversight Committee. What can I help you with?”

“Hi!” Venti smiled charmingly at her, “I’m here to become an official Mondstadt citizen.”

The staff blinked, looking his clothing, “Aren’t you already a Mondstadter?”

“I am but, alas, I have never officially received any sort of birth certificate or identification form,” Venti sighed, “You see...”

And so, the windborne bard spun a tale about a pair of travelling musicians, who fell in love during a Ludi Harpastum and decided to explore the world together. He told her how they got married amidst the cecilias on Starsnatch Cliff—an unofficial wedding seen only by the birds and winds—and how a few years later, while on the road to Liyue, they learnt that the wife was pregnant with a baby. That baby was then born in Wangshu Inn, thanks to the help of a passing doctor from Fontaine.

The staff listened to him, completely enraptured by the boldfaced lie Venti made up on the spot.

“How romantic!” She sighed dreamily, “And then what happened?”

“Alas, while we were accompanying a group of merchants to Sumeru, a band of hilichurls attacked the caravans,” Venti teared up, sniffing, as if recalling some sad memory, “My parents...they died protecting me. I was only thirteen then...”

(Zhongli knew that Venti was a great actor, but this was...a bit more than he expected. If he didn’t know that the other god was, in fact, an elemental who wasn’t ‘born’ in the human sense of the word, then he might have fallen for his made-up sob story too.)

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” The staff cried out, looking as if she wanted to give the ‘poor boy’ a hug, “I understand now. You seem like a good kid. No one without a kind heart could ever play as you did during the competition. I’ll help you out in any way I can.”

Venti rubbed his (fake) tears away, smiling, “Thank you so much, milady! Your generosity knows no bounds.”

“Haha, please, there’s no need to thank me,” she blushed, embarrassed yet pleased when Venti called her ‘milady’. The staff rifled through her desk for a moment, before pulling out a stack of papers, “All you need to do is fill up these forms. I’ll handle the rest for you, dearie.”

“Thank you again, milady!” Venti bowed gratuitously.

“Can you also lend us a copy of a book about Mondstadt’s laws?” Zhongli asked, finally speaking up for the first time since they entered the building.

“Ah, sure?” She blinked, confused, “But I don’t think you’ll need that to fill out that form, as long as you follow the instructions written on them. Besides, they’re very thick and not meant for a casual read. Also, forgive me for my assumption, but aren’t you from Liyue?”

Zhongli nodded, “Yes, it is true that I’m from Liyue, but I think that it is prudent to familiarise myself with Mondstadt’s laws in order to help my friend here. It is fine if it’s thick.”

“If you say so...” The administration worker looked unconvinced, but she relented and left her desk to look for the book in the back. After a few moments, she came out from the back office and handed a thick, red, leather-bound book to Zhongli, “Here it is, Mondstadt’s Laws and Customs, Edition 8. Are you sure you want to read this?”

“Yes, thank you,” the God of Contracts replied, taking the book with utmost care before immediately reading it. Venti snickered behind his hand at the sight.

“You’re welcome!” She smiled, “If you guys need anything else, just come by and ask!”

“So...I just need to write my name here, here, and here...” Venti wrote his name carefully on the papers, tongue stuck out to the side in thought, “And then just sign over there, there, and there?”

“Yes,” Zhongli nodded.

They were outside, sitting on a stone bench that faced a fountain while working through the required paperwork. Or rather, Zhongli was sitting. Venti simply laid down on the bench on his stomach, elbows propped up while his feet swung up and down behind him. Next to Zhongli, Guizhong was quietly perusing the law book that the Geo Archon had finished.

A regular human would have taken days, if not weeks, to finish reading the thick, leather-bound law book, and they might still not comprehend its entirety. Zhongli, being the God of Contracts, only needed two hours to completely understand it.

He might have finished reading it faster if Venti hadn’t tried to distract him into helping (or rather, doing) his paperwork. When it was clear that the Geo Archon couldn’t be moved from his reading, Venti had decided to start singing instead, which distracted Zhongli for a whole different reason.

It really didn’t help that his other best friend kept snickering at him, for some reason.

(“He’s really got you wrapped around his fingers,” Guizhong would later comment privately to him after they have left Mondstadt, smiling slyly. “And he doesn’t even know it.”)

“Okay!” Venti cheered, “Then all that’s left is to write my birth date. What do you think would be a good date?”

Zhongli asked, “When were you born?”

“Hmm...honestly, I don’t know,” Venti replied, looking thoughtful, “I kinda just ‘popped’ into existence, you know?”

Elementals such as Venti were ‘born’ from an overflow of natural energies, thus they didn’t follow the same rules as humans. In truth, most elementals were low-level creatures with basic, animal-like intelligence, such as slimes, crystalflies or whopperflowers. Over time, as they absorbed the ambient natural energies, they became more powerful, but that did not guarantee they will gain sentience—or a ‘soul’ as some would put it. It was frankly very rare for one to gain consciousness and a personality like Venti did.

Truth be told, Venti’s actual form—at this point in time—was actually that of a sentient, ancient Eye of the Storm. His form as a tiny wind wisp was a thing of the past, back when he was so weak that he could be nothing more than a single spirit amidst the thousand winds.

(Though that didn’t stop Venti from using his tiny, original form from time to time. Zhongli suspected he did so partly out of nostalgia, and partly because he knew he could get away with much, much more as a cute little spirit instead of a huge, faceless Stormeye.)

“Then how about the date when you first gained awareness?” Zhongli tried to recommend.

Venti shook his head, “I don’t know that either.”

“Then...what about the day you first met your bard friend?”

The moment that question was asked, Venti froze. Zhongli waited for a moment, before he realised what was wrong. Suddenly, a familiar sadness welled up inside him, a mirror to the emotion that appeared behind viridian eyes.

Softly, Zhongli suggested, “Perhaps we can think of another date?”

Relief flashed through his friend’s eyes. Venti nodded, “Yeah, though I’m not sure when...”

“We can consult the calendars for an auspicious date,” Guizhong spoke up from beside him, drawing their attention. She had just finished reading the law book and had set the tome on her lap.

Zhongli shook his head, “We’ll need to return to Liyue for that. I doubt Venti could be that patient.”

“That’s right,” Venti nodded, not the least bit ashamed, “I want to drink my wine! And I rather do that as soon as possible!”

“Then just choose a random date,” Guizhong proposed with a shrug.

“Hmm...” Venti tapped the back of his pen against the stone bench, thinking. A few minutes elapsed before he looked at Zhongli, then suddenly wrote something down, “Ah, I know!”

Zhongli peered over him and saw what he had written, “June 16th? Is that a special day to you?”

“Yeah!” Venti beamed at him, “That’s the day when I first met you.”

Red streaked across his face; a fierce blush bloomed on his cheeks. Meanwhile, Guizhong coughed next to him, as if she had suddenly choked on thin air. When he glanced at her, she was bent over, shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.

“Ah...” Zhongli awkwardly looked at Venti, “...You remember that?”

Venti nodded, his cheeks faintly red, as if he had just realised what he just said, “Uh, yeah...it was an important date for me back then. That was the first time I met another god besides Decarabian, and I was worried about how it’ll go on the days leading up to it. Now it’s...important for other reasons.”

Zhongli dearly wanted to ask what those ‘other reasons’ were, but Venti quickly looked down at his paper, exclaiming, “Right! Now, just need to add the year, and...done! ‘Kay, I’m off now!”

He caught a glimpse of the numbers Venti had written down as the year. A warning rose up in his throat, but the Anemo Archon was gone before he could voice it. Zhongli was left staring at empty space, cheeks still slightly red from Venti’s earlier statements.

“Uff...hahaha!” Guizhong finally laughed beside him. She clutched her stomach, laughing so hard that prickles of tears welled up in her eyes, “Oh Celestia, that’s good. Hahaha! You two are really—hahaha!”

Zhongli looked at her, trying to look as stern as usual despite the blush on his face, “Guizhong, it didn’t mean anything.”

“Suureee, it didn’t,” his best friend rolled her eyes, giggling, “Ah, Zhongli, Zhongli, you are so dense. This was why I was the brains and you were the brawns back then, remember?”

“Hmph,” the Geo Archon looked away, crossing his arms. He gazed at the Anemo Archon statue that stood over Mondstadt in the distance, comparing its serene quality to the burst of energy that Venti often exhibited. Not for the first time, Zhongli was struck by how different the Mondstadter’s perception of their god was compared to the actual person.

At least they got his gentleness and kindness right...

Zhongli knew for certain that the Anemo Archon didn’t return his affections, or at least not in the same way he felt. Unlike what Guizhong claimed, he was not dense.

(Watching him, Guizhong sighed in fond exasperation at her hopeless friend and mentally added another thousand years into the bet.)

Venti grinned and slapped down his newly acquired identification papers in front of tonight’s bartender of Angel’s Share, Diluc Ragnvindr.

“Master Diluc!” He exclaimed cheerfully, “I got the proof I need to buy wine!”

Diluc glanced at the aforementioned paper, before sighing and shaking his head, “No, you’re still not allowed to drink.”

“Eh? But this clearly states that I’m over the legal drinking age!”

“About that...” Zhongli coughed, drawing Venti’s attention, “The legal drinking age had been raised ten years ago. Now, you need to be at least eighteen before you can drink. It’s in the Mondstadt’s Laws and Customs, Edition 8 book.”

“Exactly,” Diluc tapped a finger against the paper, “And this clearly shows that you’re seventeen.”

“But...but...” Venti’s eyes widened as the Dawn Winery owner turned away to attend to other customers. The wind god slumped over the counter, face in his arms, whining, “Noooooo.....”

Awkwardly, Zhongli patted him on the back, “There, there...”

“Why did they have to raise it?” Venti sobbed exaggeratedly, “It was sixteen five hundred years ago!”

“Probably because they don’t want more drunk teenagers doing things they really shouldn’t while drunk,” Guizhong replied, taking a seat on the stool next to the crying windborne bard.

“Adults do stupid stuff while drunk too! It’s not like we ban all alcohol because of that,” Venti complained, pouting at her, “Aaaahhhh, it’s not fair! I’m older than this!”

Guizhong laughed and patted his head, “It can’t be helped. That’s the law the mortals have set for themselves. At least all you have to do is wait another year before you’re allowed to drink.”

“But my wiiiiiiiineeeee...”

“Ahem,” they turned to face the bar front when Diluc coughed politely, drawing their attention. In his hand was a glass filled with chilled yellow liquid and decorated with apple slices, “This is Dawn Winery’s apple cider vinegar, created specially for those who aren’t allowed to participate in Mondstadt’s drinking culture yet. I can’t serve you wine, but perhaps this will do as a replacement?”

Venti looked skeptical, but he accepted the drink, “Alright then...”

He drank the non-alcoholic beverage, frowning all the while. When the drink hit his tastebuds though, his eyes widened and he smiled widely, “Oh, this is really delicious! Can I have some more for me and my friends here?”

And just like that, the gloom that shrouded the wind god disappeared like water slipping off a smooth rock. Zhongli sighed in relief, then chuckled quietly to himself. Of course Venti would be like this. It was rare for him to be truly angry or upset in the first place, much less remain so for a long period of time.

Diluc smiled faintly and nodded, retreating back to make more of said beverage for them. Zhongli slid to the seat next to Venti, looking at him, “So, does this satisfy you, my friend?”

“Hmm...I would still prefer wine,” Venti admitted, smiling as he drank his fill, “But this’ll do for now. It’ll tide me over until next year, at least.”

Zhongli chuckled, “I’m glad.”

Diluc returned with their free drinks, then left them to attend to other patrons. The three immortals drank and talked until closing time, enjoying their time spent together.

On their way back to Liyue Harbour, they came across a merchant selling wine nearby the Statue of the Seven in Dihua Marsh.

“Welcome! Would you like some wine?” The man greeted them cheerfully as they passed, “These are the finest brew in all of Liyue! You won’t find any like these!”

“Do you sell to seventeen years-old?” Venti—who had decided to accompany Zhongli and Guizhong back—asked, leaning forward with uncharacteristic seriousness.

The merchant laughed, “Of course! We’re not Mondstadt. Our legal drinking age is sixteen.”

“Yes! Thank you, Rex Lapis!” Venti praised, rushing up to hug Zhongli. He beamed at him, “Praise be to the Geo Lord!”

“Uh, well...” Zhongli glanced at Guizhong for help, but that ‘traitor’ just snickered at his ‘misfortune’.

“Hahaha, yes! Our Lord is the best,” The man—blissfully ignorant of the true identities of the three immortals in front of him—grinned, “Would you like to buy some? It’s like liquid amber, and has just a hint of sweetness when it first hits the tongue...”

“Sure, how much for a bottle?”

The man named his price. Venti paid for it, using some of the prize money he won from Carmen Dei, before tearing off the lid and immediately drinking it. The merchant blinked, surprised at the supposedly young boy’s eagerness while Venti’s companions simply sighed and smiled.

“Oooh, this really is good!” Venti grinned, taking another sip. His brows furrowed as a frown slowly formed on his lips, “And...it tastes familiar...? It’s like the dandelion wine from Dawn Winery...”

Viridian eyes snapped up at the merchant, who sweated under the wind god’s suddenly piercing gaze, “No, it’s not ‘like’, it’s exactly the same as the dandelion wine from Mondstadt. You’re just changing the labels and claiming it as your own!”

“If this is true then it’s quite serious,” Zhongli murmured, placing his chin on his hand in thought, “After all, exaggeration is one thing. It is fine to claim your wine is ‘Liyue’s finest local brew’, but purposely misleading your customers, claiming another’s product as your own and selling it without their permission...Why, that’s very serious.”

“Y-you can’t prove that!”

“It’s easy enough to prove,” Guizhong spoke up, “All we need to do is get a bottle of dandelion wine from Dawn Winery and compare the two. Why, I have some right now.”

Guizhong withdrew a bottle she had kept inside her magical sleeves. Before leaving, she had bought one bottle from Angel’s Share, for them to drink together back in Liyue. The merchant was too shocked by the turn of events to question how she kept such an expensive wine bottle inside her large, billowing sleeves.

“I-ugh...fine...I’ll admit it. We buy from the Dawn Winery and change the labels,” the man sighed, “It’s not like I want to lie, but the Dawn Winery’s wines are second to none...”

“Heh, that is true,” Venti stated proudly, “Now, since you just tried to scam me, how about you give me my money back?”

“Ugh...alright...” Reluctantly, he did so, handing the mora back to the wind god, “Just...don’t tell anyone about this, okay? I’ll be in serious trouble if the Merchant’s Guild finds out about this...”

“Oh?” Venti’s smile turned sly, “How much trouble?”

The merchant, sensing trouble, quickly shut up. Unfortunately for him, Guizhong answered Venti’s question. With an equally sly smile, she said, “A lot. What he did violated several laws that Rex Lapis had set down, and it also violated the trust in the implicit contract between seller and buyer. After all, when you buy something, you expect the product to be just as advertised, no? A little exaggeration is fine, but what he did is a scam.”

“So, my friend,” Venti grinned at her, “Based on the laws and customs of this land, what will be his punishment?”

“Hmm...” she pretended to think about it, “Well, depending on the magnitude of this scam, it can lead to thousands, if not millions of mora in fines. It may also lead to the suspension or even ban of his trading license. Furthermore, if the Dawn Winery catches wind of this, they may also decide to sue him.”

“Sounds like quite a lot of trouble, no?” The Anemo Archon turned back to the merchant who looked like he was having a nervous breakdown, “It doesn’t seem fair that it’ll only take you returning the money you got from me to buy our silence. And is not fairness the foundation of the Land of Commerce? After all, was it not the Geo Archon himself who decreed that trade should only be conducted when goods of equal value are offered?”

“That is correct, my friend,” Guizhong added, also grinning like a Cheshire Cat, “After all, in Liyue, the law of equivalent exchange is held dearly by all.”

She glanced at Zhongli, who sighed as he watched his friends blackmail the merchant in front of them, and continued, “What was it that Rex Lapis once said? ‘Nothing can be accomplished without rules or standards. No matter if it is mortals or adepti, everyone has their place. This rule keeps Liyue in peace.’.”

Guizhong had pitched her voice low and made a good impression of Morax, grinning all the while. Zhongli gave her an unimpressed stare, to which she returned with a wink. Yes, Zhongli privately admitted to himself, he did say something like that a long time ago.

“Fine, fine!” The merchant cried out, “What do you want then?”

Venti grinned, “How about you promise us free alcohol for our lifetime, hmm? Then we’ll consider it even.”

“Alright, you get free alcohol—as long as you don’t take away 70% of my stock!” He replied, “I still need to make a living here!”

“Deal!” Venti agreed, extending his hand out to shake in a Mondstadt’s custom.

The merchant—used to dealing with Mondstadters for his fake Liyuean wine—understood this gesture and shook his hand, “And you and your friends promise me you won’t tell this to anyone?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Venti laughed, “I swear to you in the name of Morax!”

Zhongli glanced at him, but he—like Guizhong—merely returned his flat gaze with a cheery wink.

They talked with the merchant some more. Or rather, Venti got him to part with five bottles of ‘Liyuean wine’ for free, with promises to come back for more, much to the man’s distress. When they finally left the merchant’s stand, Zhongli could swear that he saw the man cry in relief.

As they returned to the road towards Liyue, Zhongli mused, “Perhaps I should consider raising the legal drinking age...”

Venti, who was in the middle of drinking his ill-begotten wine, almost choked on the amber liquid. Coughing, he rounded on the Geo Archon with a glare. There was a hint of amusement in that cor lapis gaze as the Anemo Archon shouted:

“Don’t. You. Dare!”

Chapter Text

When Zhongli woke up, the space next to him was empty.

The former unseen Emperor of Liyue blinked, staring almost incomprehensibly at the empty space next to him, sleep still clouding the edges of his mind. Fragments of a song drifted up from the foot of the bed, coming from somewhere next to the opened window. Almost groggily, he pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes, looking at the windowsill to see a certain wind god singing.

Venti sat on the plush, long bench under the window, singing to the dawn. Soft morning light seemed to diffused around him, casting a gentle halo on the younger god. His hair was loose and unbraided—slightly tossed back by a breeze—and he wore only the shirt and shorts he slept in last night. Yet, for some reason, it was in moments such as these that the divinity he possessed became apparent.

“The sun calls, ‘Good morning!’. The wind calls, ‘Good morning!’” Skilful hands played the lyre, as the windborne bard greeted the morn with a merry children song, “The bird calls, ‘Good morning!’. Good morning, lovely child!”

Zhongli closed his eyes, letting the simple, happy tune washed over him. Venti sang in Mondstadt’s local tongue; the words foreign, but familiar to the Liyuean. While Zhongli knew everything there was to know about Liyue, his knowledge of foreign culture was woefully lacking compared to the well-travelled wind god. Thus, he only understood bits and pieces of what Venti was actually saying, but the peaceful melody was enough to set his heart at peace.

Ah, that’s right. I’m no longer in Liyue.

Yesterday’s events flashed across him mind, grounding him to the moment—renting the apartment, shopping together, picking flowers and cooking together. It was a kind of tranquil, everyday domesticity that the god Morax would never be able to enjoy.

This is my life now, he realised, as he opened his eyes when Venti’s song drifted to a close, I can get used to this.

“You’re up early,” Zhongli said to Venti when the bard glanced at him. The Geo Archon tilted his head, his long, loose hair spilling over a shoulder, “I thought you would sleep in.”

Venti stared at him for a moment, before he shook his head for some reason. Was it a trick of the light, or did Zhongli saw a blush decorating the other god’s cheeks. “Hahaha,” the Anemo Archon laughed, “I always wake up at dawn. What better way to greet the morning than with a song?”

Zhongli raised a brow, “Really? You have a habit of sleeping-in, remember?”

“T-that was different!” Venti huffed, turning away, “I’m not going to fall asleep for centuries any time soon!”

“Sure,” He chuckled, though even as he said that, Zhongli hoped it was true. It would be quite lonely if his friend was to fall into deep slumber again.

Venti glanced at him, but Zhongli didn’t say anything more. Instead, the earth god leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes again, listening to the distant bird songs and the ambient early-market noises from down the street.

“What are you going to do today?” Asked Venti when the silence dragged on too long.

Zhongli shrugged, opening his amber eyes, “I don’t know. I...didn’t really think of what to do now that I’m...”

Free.

The concept still felt too new to him, despite knowing one who embodied it for so long. So instead, Zhongli finished with, “...retired.”

“Don’t know, huh?” The wind god’s fingers absentmindedly plucked a tune from his lyre. Venti pondered for a moment, “Well, if you don’t know, just do what feels right to you. Don’t worry too much about the details~”

He couldn’t help but laughed softly, “That’s very much like you to say, Venti.”

“Hehehe...”

Another peaceful silence descended on them. Venti hummed another merry tune, carelessly plucking the strings to its melody. Zhongli watched him leisurely, pulling one leg up to his chest to place his chin on his knee.

“Why did you give away your original lyre?”

The song stopped. Venti turned to face him, eyes slightly wide in surprise. It reminded Zhongli a little of a startled rabbit, and he had to stifled his laughter with a grin.

“I just thought it would be a good idea to give them a connection to me,” Venti answered, shrugging, “Vennessa asked me if I could give something so that the people of Mondstadt would remember that their god was the God of Freedom, not tyranny or slavery, and the only thing worthwhile I had on me at that time was my lyre.”

“It originally belonged to your bard friend, right?” Zhongli asked. Something about the soft morning light and peaceful ambience made him feel bold enough to ask something so private, “Isn’t it important to you?

Venti’s smile was a touch sad, but not regretful, “It is, but I thought giving it to the people of Mondstadt would be a better use for it. I can always play on another lyre, but der Himmel...My friend had used it to sing songs of freedom to the people of Old Mondstadt, so it’s only fitting to give it away to the new citizens of this land as a reminder of my—our—ideals, don’t you think?”

Zhongli didn’t quite understand it, but he said, “I suppose so.”

His friend’s smile turned into a grin, before it dimmed slightly, “Even so...Nobody can play it now. Ha...nothing can really stand the test of time, huh?”

“What happened?” Seeing the sadness in Venti’s eyes woke Zhongli up from his peaceful morning daze. He sat up straighter, “Did it broke down?”

“Haha...you can say that,” Venti replied, “Did you hear about the Stormterror incident?”

“A little bit,” Zhongli nodded. He had heard about it from gossiping merchants, but haven’t gotten the chance to ask Venti yet for its authenticity.

“Well, this is what happened...”

“So it broke after you tried to help Dvalin?”

Venti nodded, “Yeah, but I don’t blame him. He was under the control of the Abyss Mage then.”

Zhongli frowned, “You can’t fix it?”

“No, it’s...a little beyond me right now, unfortunately,” His friend smiled sadly, “Perhaps, if it happened shortly after I became an Archon, then I could have fixed it. But now, I’ve spent too long away from Mondstadt and as a result my powers have waned.”

Ah, so it was because of that. Zhongli’s words were factual, instead of scolding, “That is what happens when an Archon does not oversee their lands.”

“I know. You told me back then,” Venti replied, strumming his lyre again, “I don’t regret doing that, by the way. This is the fate I have chosen out of my own free will, and this is simply the consequences I must face for my decision.”

Zhongli nodded. The God of Freedom was always like that—a free spirit through and through, but one who was aware of the responsibility that laid behind freedom. Still, there was something bothering him, “Do you wish it to be fixed?”

The strumming stopped as Venti froze, looking at him. “Of course, I want it fixed, but it can’t be done anymore,” The wind god sighed, “It can’t be helped. Time takes away all things, this is no different.”

The Anemo Archon looked out the window, despondent, “I just...wish I can play it one more time...”

As Zhongli stared at his longtime friend, an idea began brewing in his mind. Suddenly, he knew exactly what he wanted to do today.

Zhongli knew he had hurt Venti with his plot in Liyue. His friend might have considered it as water under the bridge, but Zhongli remembered the betrayed look on his face when the Anemo Archon realised that the he had faked his death, which appeared again when he had handed over his Gnosis to the Fatui Harbingers. He had hurt him deeply.

But of course, Venti being Venti meant that he didn’t hold grudges for long.

The gods from the time of the Archon War would have held this over his head, either as a bargaining chip or as another reason to hate him, but instead the Anemo Archon was the one who arranged their current living conditions. Venti was the one who paid the deposit for their apartment, using the mora he had saved up over the years to do so. This was also the reason why the windborne bard went to Diluc Ragnvindr later that day, to ask for a semi-permanent employment when usually the free spirit preferred to live day-by-day, his profession as a bard only serving to give him the wine he so loved.

Venti was—for once—being the fiscally responsible one because they both knew that between the both of them, it was the alcohol-loving god who was better at budgeting than the God of Commerce.

He didn’t have to—could have easily lived life as a human without the earth god—but Venti offered to let Zhongli be a part of this new life too, even though the wind god must knew that this led to quite the additional expenses.

And there was also that night...

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be strong anymore.”

“You are free.”

Zhongli didn’t realise how much he had yearned to hear those words until that moment.

Kind must be returned with kind; thus was the rule of reciprocity that Morax—Zhongli—lived by. He owed Venti so much already, that if fixing the Holy Lyre would help balance the scales even a little, then he would do so. Not only would that be fair, it would also make his friend happy.

Besides...Zhongli thought as he headed to the Dawn Winery, there’s another reason why I want him to play that lyre again.

The Dawn Winery was located close to the borders between Mondstadt and Liyue. Zhongli—remembering the redhead knight that had accompanied Venti to the mountains during their very first meeting—wondered if that was intentional.

The Ragnvindr family still protects Mondstadt to this very day, he mused, looking at a particularly ‘interesting’ vase as he waited for the current owner of the winery to meet him.

When he had first arrived at the winery, the servants and guards looked at him cautiously. Zhongli couldn’t blame them; based on his clothings and appearance, it was very obvious that he wasn’t a Mondstadter, nor did he looked anything like the Liyuean merchants that the winery usually traded with. Still, if there was one thing living for over 6000 years have taught him, it was that as long as you looked confident enough, you could generally get away with anything.

He had tricked quite a few people into doing what he wanted that way.

“I am here to meet the Master of this fine winery,” Zhongli had said to the head maid, Adelinde, when he arrived. His posture was confident yet relaxed; the image of someone who was there for a very important meeting, “If you could kindly inform him that ‘Venti’s friend from Liyue’ is here to see him, that would be most helpful.”

Venti did say that the owner of this winery and the current Acting Grandmaster had accompanied him and the Traveller when they had attempted to calm down Dvalin. If they knew who Venti truly was, then they should at least suspect that Zhongli wasn’t exactly what he seemed to be.

The head maid had looked suspicious of him, but she did as he asked. Now, Zhongli stood in the main hall, examining a certain peculiar vase while he waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. Adelinde stepped down the stairs, announcing, “Master Diluc will see you now. Please follow me, sir.”

“Thank you,” he replied politely, following her as she led him up the stairs and to a grand double door.

The maid knocked on the door, waiting until she heard the Master of this house beckoned them in. She pushed the door open, and then with a polite bow to both men, she left them. Zhongli approached the redhead man standing behind a large desk, amber eyes examining the richly furnished room curiously.

“Welcome,” Diluc Ragnvindr greeted him with a polite smile, one the God of Commerce had seen many times on the merchants that made Liyue famous, “I don’t believe we’ve met before? My name is Diluc Ragnvindr.”

“I’ve heard a great many things about you in Liyue, Master Diluc,” Zhongli inclined his head politely, “Please, call me Zhongli.”

That practiced smile was relaxed, but those ruby eyes weren’t, “Is that the only name you go by?”

“The only one that matters now,” He replied, “I have gone by many names before—some of which you may have even heard—but I have left most of them when I left Liyue.”

The redhead tilted his head curiously, eyes slightly narrowing, “Fatui?”

Zhongli smiled, faint but with a hint of cunning, “Yes, but not in the way you think.”

He could tell that the Pyro user wanted to know more, but Diluc didn’t ask further. Might as well, since Zhongli wasn’t interested in discussing the specifics of the contract he made with the Tsaritsa. It wasn’t any of the Mondstadter’s business anyway.

“...Very well then,” Diluc, perhaps sensing that Zhongli wouldn’t reveal anything more, shifted topics, “I assume that you’re here for a reason? I doubt that one of that bard’s ‘friends’ would visit a mere mortal like myself for nothing.”

“Yes, I have something which I would like to request from you,” Zhongli nodded, “But first, I must ask: Did Venti came by here earlier?”

Diluc looked briefly confused, but he nodded anyway, “Yes, he did.”

“Did you agree to his request for employment?”

“Oh, that,” The redhead blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting that question, “I did. Normally, there would be a test and an interview—my tavern is one of the most sought-after in Mondstadt, after all—but I deemed it unnecessary. After all, we both know who he is.”

“Yes,” Zhongli smiled faintly. Of course the business-savvy winery owner wouldn’t pass up the chance to have the God of Songs as one of his regular bards.

“You can discuss the details with him later. I heard that you’re living with him?”

“Your information network is as accurate as ever, I see.”

Diluc smiled thinly, “You know about us?”

Zhongli gazed back calmly, “There is nothing that can be hidden from me in Liyue.”

The uncrowned King of Mondstadt laughed, a quick burst of sound that was more like a scoff than true amusement, “Of course. I should have expected as much from Rex Lapis.”

“Oh? Haven’t you heard?” Zhongli laughed as well, but the sound fell short of true laughter, “Rex Lapis is dead. Last I heard, he failed a divine trial and have ascended to the heavens.”

Truly, how did his Qixing came up with that story?

Diluc stared at him, frowning slightly before he nodded slowly, “Is that so? Very well then, I understand.”

The redhead sat on his chair behind the desk, gesturing for Zhongli to sit too. Once the Geo Archon did so, Diluc leaned forward, “So, if you are here as Zhongli, then what business do you have with me?”

“Simple, I wish to make a deal,” Amber eyes locked onto ruby ones, “I wish to borrow the Holy Lyre der Himmel.”

Another laugh burst out from the redhead, this time tinged with incredulity, “The Holy Lyre? Do you know what you’re asking? That is one of the precious treasures of Mondstadt, a gift from our god himself. Besides...” Those pair of chill red eyes pierced him, “Have you not talked to Venti about it? The Holy Lyre is in no state to be used.”

“I know,” Zhongli replied calmly, unperturbed by his disbelief, “That is why I want to borrow it, because I wish to fix it.”

Ruby gaze narrowed, “Why?”

“My history with Venti—Barbatos—is a long one, stretching back nearly to the founding of this country,” The Lord of Geo answered, “Through all the years we’ve known each other, Venti has always been a good friend to me. Surely it’s reasonable for a friend to want to do something to make his friend happy?”

“It is, but...” Diluc frowned slightly, “I’ve heard many tales about you, God of Contracts. The deals you strike are fair, but you won’t make them unless you also gained something of equal value. Fixing the Holy Lyre would be a great boon not only to Venti, but also to the people of Mondstadt. So I’m curious, what could be equal to such a boon?”

Gods did not give without receiving something in return; those who studied their myths and histories could prove that. Zhongli wasn’t surprised that Diluc was wary.

And so, Zhongli told him the truth.

Diluc looked incredulous after he finished speaking. Disbelieving, he asked, “Truly? That is what you gain from all this?”

“I do not lie when making contracts,” The Geo Archon stated, voice as steady as stone.

“Yes, but...” the redhead shook his head, still doubtful, “That seemed so...”

“One man’s trash is another’s treasure,” Zhongli replied, “It may not seem so valuable to you, but for me, it is. Remember, I only agree to deals that follows the law of equivalent exchange.”

“I suppose you’re right,” The doubt was still present in his eyes, but it was easing along with the tenseness around Diluc’s shoulders, “If what you say is true, then I see no reason not to help you with this, though you will need the Seneschal’s permission to take out the Holy Lyre.”

Zhongli waved off that concern, “I’m sure you can pull some strings. You are, after all, the uncrowned King of Mondstadt.”

Diluc’s smile was thin, “Mondstadt does not have any kings.”

“None that the majority of the populace is aware of, I’m sure,” The Lord of Geo returned, staring at him coolly, “It is nothing new. Humans tend to look towards certain people for leadership, whether they consciously know it or not. This is true even in the Country of Freedom. What matters is what you do with that influence.”

The former knight stared at him long and hard, before he nodded, smile still thin and sharp, “Hmm, perhaps you are right, unseen Emperor of Liyue.”

Zhongli chuckled, “I’m retired now. That title no longer applies to me.”

“Is that so?” Diluc muttered. He placed his elbows on the table, chin on his hands, “While I do agree that the Holy Lyre should be fixed, and that you seem capable of doing the job, I must ask: What is in this for me?”

A merchant through and through, Zhongli approved. Of course, he would never gain a monopoly over Mondstadt’s wine industry if he wasn’t so business-savvy.

“A trade then,” The God of Contracts lifted one finger, smiling mysteriously, “In exchange for your help in borrowing the Holy Lyre, I will answer one question.”

Diluc leaned back, eyes narrowing as he frowned thoughtfully.

“One question, one answer. If you wish to know how to gain an edge in Liyue’s markets, then I will tell you. If you wish to know the history of bygone eras, as seen by my eyes, then I will tell you,” Amber eyes glinted gold, “If you wish to know of every single activity done by every single Fatui member in Liyue, then I will tell you that, too.”

“As long as it does not break any non-disclosure agreements I have made, then I will answer any single question.”

Zhongli walked out of the Dawn Winery with a pleased smile and a meeting with the Seneschal later that night.

The Seneschal was a kind, perhaps middle-aged man with blond hair and a pair of glasses named Seamus. He had smiled kindly at Zhongli as he welcomed him into the grand cathedral and led him into a private meeting room.

As they walked through the holy halls, Zhongli looked left and right, gazing at the stained glass windows that decorated the cathedral, the moonlight that reflected off them casting the depicted figures in a more ethereal light. His amber eyes lingered on any images depicting Barbatos, his white wings pure and spread open, as if in welcome or preparation for flight. The Anemo Archon’s hood was up, hiding his face, but his gentle smile was clear to see.

Zhongli compared that to the smile he often saw from Venti, and found that it was similar enough.

“Ah,” the Seneschal intoned, his steps slowing down. Zhongli turned from where he was observing a stained-glass depiction of his dear friend in flight to see Seamus smiling at him kindly, “You seem very interested in our Lord Barbatos. Is there anything in particular that you’re drawn to?”

His kindness, his gentleness, his smile...Zhongli could go on, but it would seem quite awkward for him to say such things. After all, although Seamus was a devout believer of Barbatos, he didn’t know Venti, “It’s nothing. I’m just curious about the depictions of your god. It’s quite different from what I usually see in Liyue.”

“I see. I’ve heard many things about Rex Lapis,” Seamus commented softly, walking up to stand next to him. He looked up to gaze at Venti’s stained-glass divine form, “Our god is different from him in many ways. Unlike Rex Lapis who would descend once a year, Lord Barbatos is seldom seen in Mondstadt. In fact, in over 2000 years of Mondstadt’s history, there were only a handful of sightings and divine intervention from him.”

Zhongli glanced at him, listening patiently. Seamus, noticing this, took this as an encouragement to continue.

“I understand that many foreigners find this strange, especially when their own gods rule their domains directly, but I think it is very fitting,” Seamus smiled gently at the image of his god, “Lord Barbatos is the gentle God of Wind and Freedom. If he was to rule us, would that not violate his ideals? After all, what is freedom when mandated by a god?”

Amber eyes widened slightly, remembering the very same words his dear friend once said on their first meeting. Zhongli couldn’t help but chuckle as he wondered, How interesting. They are separated by thousands of years and the differing perspectives of a mortal and an immortal, yet they came to the same conclusion nonetheless.

He couldn’t help but find it mildly ironic. Venti rarely revealed himself to mortals, yet they kept the spirit of his words alive even after all these millenniums. In contrast—perhaps due to his involvement in many affairs—there were multiple, often conflicting stories about Rex Lapis.

“What indeed...?” Zhongli murmured, still puzzling over that question after all these years. At Seamus’ confused look, Zhongli asked, “Your god is quite interesting, but tell me—do you not feel abandoned by him?”

“Not at all,” Seamus shook his head, laughing softly, as if this was a question he was used to receiving, “The gentle breeze that flows through Mondstadt, the dandelions dancing in the wind, and the songs that are sung throughout this land—all of these are the blessings of the Anemo Archon.”

“It does not matter that we are not as powerful or rich as other countries; Mondstadt’s true treasure is the peace, happiness and freedom that every citizen enjoys. Laugh when you’re happy, cry when you’re sad—to be free and unrestrained like the wind, without fear of persecution or injury...that is the promise—or perhaps ‘contract’, as you Liyueans would like to put it—that Lord Barbatos gave to us.”

Seamus smiled, kind eyes curving with the sincerity behind that expression.

“Our god may not be with us, but his presence can be felt in the wind itself.”

Their conversation about Barbatos continued well into the night, even after the Holy Lyre was secured in his coat pocket. It was strange, but mildly amusing for Zhongli to listen to the Seneschal’s words about his god.

In Liyue, there were many who claimed to know Rex Lapis, citing this and that story or relic as proof, yet the ones who truly knew him were far and few in between. Although history was set in stone, stone itself could be eroded in time. What was once common knowledge could easily be warped into superstition or exaggerated to grandness.

In Mondstadt, no one would claim to know Barbatos, and if they did, they would laugh and dismiss it as drunken talk or exaggeration. Their god, after all, have left them aeons ago, entrusting the future to mortals. And yet, despite all this, the spirit and ideals that his dear friend cherished was passed on through the generations.

(There was one time when Mondstadt’s history had sunk to heretofore unseen low though. That was one of the very few times Barbatos directly interfered in the affairs of mortals since his ‘disappearance’.)

It gave Zhongli a sense of relief. Mondstadt may have forgotten some of its history with the passing of time—and they imagined his friend with far more dignity than Venti usually acted—but the Anemo Archon’s ideals were still cherished and taught. Although his actions as Rex Lapis would eventually fade into obscurity, he was sure that his ideals, too, would be passed on in Liyue.

Before he left, Zhongli struck a deal with the Seneschal.

“In exchange for fixing the Holy Lyre, I would like to request for my friend to play it when it is returned.”

Seamus had looked hesitant to agree, but when Zhongli told him who his friend was, the man nodded, smiling. Venti was, after all, the two times winner of Carmen Dei. Later, on New Year’s Eve, he would be asked to play the Holy Lyre anyway.

Zhongli left the Church of Favonius with the Holy Lyre der Himmel, smiling as he wondered how his dear friend would react to it once it was fixed.

“Zhongli!” Venti greeted him when he opened the door. His roommate smiled, hair unbound and dressed simply in a shirt and pair of shorts, “Welcome home!”

Zhongli smiled back, “I’m home.”

‘Welcome home’ and ‘I’m home’ were such simple, everyday phrases, yet it was in this moment that the ancient immortal realised how much he yearned to hear from and say those words to someone.

(Walking through the streets of Liyue, he often saw families reuniting at the end of the day with such common phrases, and perhaps even a cooked meal. Peering through the windows, Morax had long since concluded that such domesticity was not for him to enjoy.)

Venti paused from where he was cooking, tilting his head curiously as he looked at Zhongli, who was frozen by the door, “Are you okay? Come on in, I’m making some homemade sticky honey roast tonight.”

He blinked, realising that water was welling up behind his eyes. With some force, he pushed down the tears and shut the door behind him, “That sounds delicious, Venti.”

The wind god still looked unconvinced, his brows furrowed with worry. He lowered the heat from the stove and approached Zhongli, who had stopped in front of the window. Venti now stood before him, the moonlight filtering in from the window casting an ethereal glow on him, reminding the earth god of the other’s stained-glass divine depiction in the cathedral.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Venti asked again, raising a hand up to wipe away a tear that had somehow escaped Zhongli’s will, “It’s okay, you know? Laugh when you’re happy, cry when you’re sad. Be as free and unrestrained like the wind. Such is the blessing that I, Barbatos, promised to all who lives in Mondstadt.”

“Ah...” He couldn’t help it. When Venti—Barbatos—tugged him down and allowed him to burrow his face into his shoulder, Zhongli cried.

He should feel embarrassed. How many times have he cried in front of his friend in the past few days? Yet he found that he couldn’t bring himself to care. This was his dearest friend, Venti, and the God of Freedom, Barbatos. Neither cared much about dignity.

(How many times have he refused to allow himself the chance to cry? How many times have he denied himself the opportunity to be weak?)

A hand patted his back and another stroked his hair. It was so much smaller and softer than his, yet its gentleness belied a strength that often went unseen. As Venti hummed a familiar, ancient cradle song, Zhongli remembered that night.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be strong anymore.”

“You are free.”

Freedom...right now, it felt like such a strange concept to Zhongli. He was so used to the chains of duty, that now that he was bereft of them, everything felt too light. But with Venti here though, he hoped that one day, there would be a day where he could truly laugh and cry without shame.

The Holy Lyre der Himmel was kept secretly in his coat pocket. Its broken form was without a hint of Anemo energy, perhaps explaining why Venti didn’t sense it. Zhongli didn’t tell him that he has his original lyre either.

It was to be a surprise, after all.

As they ate their dinner together, Zhongli smiled, listening to Venti’s tales of his day. There were a few items that he must gather to repair the Holy Lyre, but that could wait until tomorrow. For now, he was content to watch Venti gesticulating and describing his day.

Kind must be returned with kind; thus was the rule of reciprocity that Morax—Zhongli—lived by. He owed Venti so much already, that if fixing the Holy Lyre would help balance the scales even a little, then he would do so. Not only would that be fair, it would also make his friend happy.

Besides, as he had told Diluc, Zhongli has his own, more selfish reasons to fix the Holy Lyre der Himmel.

Chapter Text

The first thing Zhongli did after he woke up the next day was to head to Windrise.

Venti was awake when he had woken up, singing again in the morning light. Zhongli felt that it was a bit odd, but shrugged it off to prepare himself for the day. He didn’t remember Venti being an early riser before, but then again, it has been a few centuries since the last time the wind god slept over at his place. Perhaps Venti had picked up the habit in the interim?

Well, whatever the case was, it didn’t matter to Zhongli right now. Today, he was on a mission.

Thankfully, Windrise was right outside of Mondstadt, so he didn’t get lost on the way there. Last time he went out of the city, he had Venti to guide the way to Starsnatch Cliff, but since Zhongli wanted to keep this a surprise, he couldn’t ask the windborne bard for direction. It was a bit embarrassing for Zhongli to admit, but outside of Liyue, his knowledge of the world was quite limited.

He supposed that was only fair. After all, no one in the world knew Liyue and its residents better than him.

Zhongli skirted around the perimeter of Barbatos’ Statue, knowing that if he got within its senses, then Venti would be alerted to his whereabouts. That would make keeping this a surprise more difficult. He dodged it by walking next to the river nearby, then approaching the great tree from behind.

Easily, he climbed the tree. Although he was much more attuned to Geo, he could feel the Anemo energy swirling around the area, creating a permanent, refreshing breeze around the tree. No wonder Venti loves this place, he thought as he pulled himself up its boughs.

Once there, he turned on his elemental vision, the world turning to shades of grey with bursts of colours here and there. Dendro green coloured the tree and its leaves, while teal Anemo floated all around him in the form of bubbles and visible wind. It swirled around the leaves, dipping beneath and above the branches, coalescing in some parts like teal scarves before dissipating into the sky.

So far so good, though Zhongli hasn’t found what he needed yet.

Something rustled next to him. He turned swiftly, tensed but not to the point of summoning his spear. What he saw in front of him was a Pyro red falcon, staring at him with piercing, intelligent eyes.

Zhongli blinked, and colours flooded back into his world.

The previously flame-coloured bird was now a regular falcon, its feathers brown and eyes dark. However, years of experience as well as his elemental vision told him that this wasn’t a regular bird. This was Vennessa, the Falcon of the West.

“It is good to meet you again, Lady Vennessa,” Zhongli greeted, inclining his head politely.

“It is good to see you too, Rex Lapis,” Vennessa replied, nodding back, “What brings you to Mondstadt? It is rare to see you outside of Liyue, much less on your own.”

The corners of his lips quirked up, “I’ll be living here for now. Venti and I are roommates now.”

“Really? You and Venti?” Somehow, despite her current bird form, surprise was evident on her face, “About time I suppose. Congratulations.”

“...I’m not entirely sure what you’re congratulating,” Zhongli furrowed his brows in confusion, “Is it my retirement? I have recently relinquished my position as ruler over Liyue, and Venti had proposed that we stay in Mondstadt while I’m still getting used to my new freedom. That is why I’m living here now.”

She slapped a wing against her face, “Never mind, I see that things are still the same.”

Confused, Zhongli wanted to ask her more, but Vennessa shook her falcon head and asked, “So, why are you up in this tree anyway? Why aren’t you with him?”

“I need something for a little project of mine,” He showed her the broken Holy Lyre, “I want to repair this, but first I will need a thick branch infused with condensed Anemo energy first.”

“The Holy Lyre...!” The Falcon of the West gazed at the broken lyre in shock, before she nodded, “Very well. I’ll help you.”

With that, she spread her wings and took off. The leaves rustled as she flew up, easily navigating through the winding branches. Zhongli craned his neck, watching her reached the top of the tree and breaking of a branch with her talons.

“Will this do?”

Vennessa set a large, thick branch in front of him—one which an ordinary falcon would have no hope in lifting, much less breaking. Even though Zhongli was much more used to the energy of the earth, he could feel the power of the thousand winds condensed within that thick branch as a result of having bathed in thick Anemo energy for a millenium. Satisfied, Zhongli smiled and nodded.

This was perfect.

“Thank you, Lady Vennessa,” The Geo Archon said, putting it inside the same magical pocket in his coat where he kept the Holy Lyre, “This was exactly what I need.”

“You’re welcome,” The Falcon of the West replied, “Tell Venti I said hi, okay?”

And with that, the first Grandmaster of Ordo Favonious spread her wings, and flew away.

The next step was to find the right crystal.

Zhongli had heard from the blacksmith near his new home, Wagner, that there were many crystals to be found in Stormterror’s Lair, once known as Old Mondstadt. Thus, after his visit to Windrise, he had headed there.

Or tried to, anyway.

Truth be told, Zhongli rarely went outside of Liyue, and when he did, it was either because of business or he was dragged to by Venti or pushed by Guizhong. Hence why, even though he have such in-depth knowledge of Liyue, he didn’t know as much about the world outside of it compared to Venti. This was the reason why he was now lost.

Zhongli frowned, putting down the map and observing his surroundings. Stormterror’s Lair was said to be to the northwest of Windrise. He had follow the directions indicated on the map as best as he could—keeping Cider Lake within sight as a reference point—and so far managed to navigate his way to Wolvendom. That was when the trouble started.

The deeper he went into the realm of the wolves, the thicker the forest became. Eventually, he lost sight of Cider Lake and no longer had anything to use as a reference point. The thick leafy canopy above also prevented him from looking up at the sky to guess his position.

With the day rapidly dwindling away, the sunlight that filtered through the leaves became silvery moonlight, and the sleepy small lamp grasses native to Mondstadt woke up, illuminating the forest in slivers of blue glow. Zhongli sighed, putting his face in his hand.

Great, I’m lost, he frowned to himself, Venti is going to wonder where I am.

He walked a little further, hoping his feet would eventually carry him to his destination somehow. Unfortunately, the deeper he went, the more lost he became, until he was so close to summoning a rock pillar under his feet just so that he could get a vantage point and find his way out. Just as he was about to do exactly that, Zhongli sensed a certain cold, large presence.

The Geo Archon turned, his adeptus’ eyesight allowing him to see through the dark. In his lost wandering, he had came close to a large ring inside the forest, the ancient grey stone cutting deep into the earth. Was it an altar of some sort, or a fighting area?

Regardless of what it was intended to be, Zhongli knew who lived there.

He leapt into the ring, calmly striding forward to the center. As expected, from the ice-cold mist, emerged the giant lupine form of Andrius, Wolf of the North.

“Geo Archon Morax,” he heard the ancient wolf’s low growl reverberated in his mind, “What are you doing here?”

“Andrius,” Zhongli returned, nodding, “It’s been a while.”

“Yes, a very long time since the last time you got lost here,” The wolf spirit replied. Zhongli squashed down the spike of embarrassment he felt. Andrius tilted his head, sharp eyes narrowing, “Are you lost again, Morax?”

“...I’m afraid to say that I am,” Zhongli was never overly prideful, so he could at least admit that he needed help in this particular case, “I was heading to Old Mondstadt, yet I found myself here instead.”

The wolf sighed, the sound like frost rushing against the leaves, “At least you are heading in the right direction this time, unlike then.”

Yes, well...Zhongli stamped down the urge to blush in embarrassment. Back then, Mondstadt had just been terraformed by the Anemo Archon, so Andrius should at least cut him some slack!

(Then again, even with the map given by Diluc Ragnvindr’s ancestor, he still got hopelessly lost back then.)

“Would you help me?” He asked. If the lone wolf refused, Zhongli could still make a floating stone platform and travelled that way. It was inconspicuous though.

“Might as well,” Andrius sighed again, walking away. Zhongli followed him, climbing out of the ring. As they walked through the forest, the wolf asked, “Why are you in Mondstadt, Geo Archon?”

Zhongli, who was carefully minding his steps so that he didn’t trip on a root, innocently said, “I’m living with Venti now.”

Immediately, Andrius stopped, almost causing Zhongli to crash into him. The wolf spun swiftly in place, pinning the earth god with an ice-blue stare.

“So it’s finally happened?” The Wolf of the North asked, his gaze as sharp as frostbite, “About time.”

Zhongli frowned, “What happened?”

Andrius stared at him again, but this time Zhongli thought that he saw disbelief tinting that ice-blue gaze. Finally, the wolf shook his head and turned around, “No, I see that the you and Barbatos are still much the same as ever.”

Zhongli wanted to ask what he meant, but the wolf shifted topics, “Why are you heading to Old Mondstadt, Morax?”

That was an easy question to answer, “I’m looking for the purest crystal to fix the Holy Lyre der Himmel.”

“The Holy Lyre? I heard from Barbatos that it was broken when Dvalin was controlled by the abyss mages,” Andrius murmured, his voice like gravel on snowy peaks, “So you wish to fix that for him?”

Zhongli nodded.

Andrius sighed again, changing directions, “Still the same as always, I see...”

Instead of guiding him towards Stormterror’s Lair as planned, the wolf led him deeper into the forest. Confused, Zhongli wanted to ask why, but refrained from doing so. Andrius wasn’t the type to prolong an excursion unless strictly necessary, nor was he the kind to mislead others. If the Wolf of the North led him somewhere else, there would be a reason for that.

A reason which became clear when they stepped into a clearing, the moonlight shining down on an outcrop of rocks surrounded in all sides by glimmering crystals.

“Would this do?” Andrius glanced at him.

He didn’t need his Geo senses to tell the purity of these crystals. “Yes,” Zhongli answered, already walking up to it, “Thank you, Andrius.”

It was easy to break the ores with a burst of Geo energy, and easier still to use that same power to make those crystals float, bringing them towards him.

After he had put all the crystals inside his coat pocket, Andrius spoke again, “Then we shall part ways here for now. I will have a pup guide you to Springvale. I trust you know the way back from there?”

Zhongli nodded, “Yes. Thank you again, Andrius. Until we meet again.”

The Wolf of the North inclined his head regally, before he turned and disappeared into the forest.

As he climbed up the stairs to their apartment, Zhongli fell flat on his face.

Rubbing his jaw, he glared at the seemingly innocent staircase. Was it just his imagination, or did he feel that the stairs were mocking him somehow?

No, he shook his head, picking himself up and patting his coat to ensure that everything was still in place, Just my imagination. I can’t sense anything from that stairs anyway.

Thankfully, the Holy Lyre and the items he picked up that day were inside his special, magical pocket, so they didn’t spill out and got crushed when he fell.

Venti was waiting for him when he entered, leaning against the opened window as he sang. Skilled fingers deftly played a melody on his lyre—der Fruhling—one that was comforting and perfect for the moonlit night. It caused the glaze lily that Zhongli had picked from Liyue to bloom beautifully under his song, its petals even leaning forward towards Venti.

Zhongli quietly closed the door and silently walked towards the long bench, careful not to disturb the wind god. He sat on the other end of the bench, propping one elbow on the windowsill and placing his cheek on his knuckle. A small, fond smiled slipped on his lips without his notice.

When the song ended, Venti turned to him and smiled, “Hi, Zhongli! Welcome home.”

The smile became larger, “I’m home.”

It still felt strange for him to be able to say and hear “Welcome home” and “I’m home” from someone, but he was slowly getting used to it. But even after he got used to it, Zhongli thought he would never stop feeling warm from hearing and saying those words.

Venti tilted his head to the kitchen, “I haven’t cooked anything. Wanna cook together? What do you want for dinner?”

“Hmm, let’s see what we have first...”

As they checked their pantry and brought out the ingredients, Zhongli glanced at der Fruhling. Venti had turned the lyre back to his fake Vision and left it on the bench, as carelessly casual about it as he was about most other things in life. Now, the lyre-turned-fake Vision gleamed under the moonlight.

Venti sang beautifully regardless of whether the lyre he used was der Fruhling or der Himmel, but Zhongli still wanted to see him play the Holy Lyre. If only to see his smile when he got to play his first friend’s instrument once again.

The next day, Zhongli went to Stormbearer Mountains.

“Where to find Dvalin?” Venti had asked around a mouthful of omelet that morning, hair still loose and unbound, “Last I checked, he’s somewhere on Stormbearer Mountains. Why do you want to meet him?”

“No particular reason,” Zhongli had lied back then. Unlike Venti, who was still in his night clothes, Zhongli had already showered and changed into his regular suit, “I just thought to meet him. It’s been a while.”

“Maybe I should go too,” Venti had replied as he spread jam on his bread, “It’ll be nice to see him again.”

If Venti had gone with him, that would have put a wrench in his plans. Fortunately, he had asked this question knowing that Venti had other things to do that day, such as performing at Angel’s Share. As a result, Zhongli was free to travel alone.

Of course, he had to promise to Venti that he would see him perform in the tavern later that day, but it was an easy promise to make. Zhongli was planning on doing so anyway, so it didn’t cost him much to agree to him.

Now, how do I find Dvalin...

Zhongli looked around his surroundings. All around him, he could see the windswept green plains that Mondstadt was renown for, dotted here and there by some woods or a hilichurl camp. In the far distance, he could see the horizon; the sea and sky meeting at the faint line that separated them.

He crossed his arms, frowning in thought. He didn’t know where Dvalin had set up his nest now, nor was he familiar with the terrain. The only reason he managed to get here in the first place was because he walked along the edges of Cider Lake, then climbed up from there. He had to use his Geo abilities in the process to create a floating stone platform, but he was pretty certain that no one had seen him save for some hilichurls or abyss mages that he easily defeated.

Ah, I know...

With a thought, he summoned a large, stone pillar from the ground. It pulsed in time with the rhythm of his heart, generating a large amount of Geo energy per second and quaking the earth with waves of gold. This would serve as a kind of beacon to Dvalin, provided that the dragon was curious enough to check out the sudden spike of Geo energy on the mountains...

Zhongli leaned his back against the pillar, crossed his arms, and waited.

The first to appear were slimes. These low-level elemental beings were curious as to the sudden spike in Geo energy, and were drawn towards the pillar. Seeing him though, they became feral—as they were wont to do—and tried to attack him.

Keyword being ‘tried’.

The smaller slimes hopped towards him, but they were instantly pulverised by the pillar’s quakes. The larger ones tried to leap and crash on him, but Zhongli only had to glance at them before they were lanced by rock spears that launched out of the earth. The Geo Archon didn’t have to move at all.

Next came the whopperflowers. Zhongli sighed; he disliked their ability to pop in and out of the groung, as well as their ranged attacks. So, before they could become a menace, he crushed them all with falling boulders that materialised from seemingly thin air above them.

Zhongli leaned his head back. An arrow whistled through the space his head had been. The Lord of Geo sighed again, Hilichurls...

He closed his eyes and summoned his Jade Shield. He didn’t really need to do so, but he would rather not have his suit ruined because of hilichurls. If it did, then he would need to gather the materials and fix it himself, since Zhongli was the one who created the clothes he wore and imbued it with Geo energy.

Being the Warrior God, he was used to fighting. It felt strange for him to not go out without some kind of armour.

The earth shared her senses to him, and showed him several club-wielding hilichurls running towards him. Without opening his eyes, he ordered the earth to create stone chains around their feet, tripping them up before they could even land a glancing blow on his shield. Their bones were then crushed beneath his pillar’s pulses.

For the archers in the distance, he had some rocks floated up and flicked them towards them with a thought. They pierced through the crossbow-wielding hilichurls’ brains with pinpoint accuracy.

Something roared angrily while in the distance, he could hear some faint chanting. A mitachurl and two samachurls, Zhongli thought, still leaning against his pillar casually with his eyes closed.

He didn’t even open them when the mitachurl bashed its axe against his shield, only for that axe to snapped against the jade. While the mitachurl was distracted by its broken weapon, a rock spear shot out from the ground and cleanly ran through it. The beast fell to its knees before Zhongli.

As for the magic-wielding samachurls, Zhongli summoned a wall of earth to block some small tornadoes, while his shield protected him from the sudden rain one of them had casted. Still seemingly relaxed, the Geo Archon summoned boulders above their heads to crush them.

He extended his senses further into the earth, and found that there were no other opponents.

Zhongli was about to relax when he heard the telltale high-pitched cackling of the abyss mages. Faintly annoyed, he opened his eyes just a little to see three of them have appeared before him, their orb-like shields already up. A pyro, hydro, and cryo abyss mages, Zhongli dismissed, Easy enough.

Just as he was about to rain a meteor down on them, a roar echoed through the sky, deep and primal. Startled, all of them looked up and saw—

GRAAUGHH!!!

A powerful blast of Anemo razed the land in front of Zhongli. Normally, Anemo came in the form of refreshing breezes or powerful gales, but this was so concentrated that it appeared more like a burst of light. It scorched the abyss mages in front of him, burning them clean from the face of the earth.

Zhongli craned his head up, and saw Dvalin, Dragon of the East.

“Morax,” the Dragon of the East’s voice echoed pleasantly in his ear, in contrast to the sheer power he had just displayed, “It has been a very long time since last we met. How are you? What brings you to Mondstadt?”

His lips quirked up in a small smile, “Dvalin, it’s good to see you again. I’m doing well, thank you. I have recently retired from my position as reigning god in Liyue and is now currently living with Venti.”

The dragon plopped down onto the ground with a slight quake, staring at him with wide eyes. Zhongli blinked; usually Dvalin has more grace than that.

“You are living with Barbatos now?” Dvalin asked, his chuckles like the rumble of thunder before lightning, “I see. Congratulations, Morax.”

Zhongli chuckled, “I suppose I really did need a break if even you congratulate me for retiring.”

Dvalin blinked. “That’s not...” The dragon stared at him, before shaking his head, creating small breezes with his movements, “Ah, never mind. It seems that both of you are still the same then.”

That was the third time one of the Four Winds told him a similar thing after they congratulated him. Zhongli’s brows furrowed in confusion; if it wasn’t his retirement, then what were they talking about?

However, before Zhongli could say anything, Dvalin asked, “Is there anything you need of me? Or is this just a social call?”

“Both, actually,” The earth god decided to question him later. He brought out the Holy Lyre, seeing Dvalin’s eyes widened in recognition before sadness weighted it down, “I need your help to fix the Holy Lyre der Himmel.”

“Barbatos original lyre...” Dvalin sighed, guilt causing his head to droop down, “I broke it while I was under the control of those abyss mages. Very well, I shall help. What do you need me to do?”

“I require an orb of concentrated Anemo energy to repair this,” Zhongli explained, “I could ask Venti, however he doesn’t know that I have his original lyre. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Ah, you wish to make him happy again,” Amusement flickered behind those glowing blue eyes, “Alright then.”

The dragon bowed his head and closed his eyes. Teal light swirled around him—the telltale sign of Anemo magic—rising from his scales and gathering in front of the Geo Archon. It swirled slowly, almost leisurely before it condensed into a glowing orb, the wings of the Anemo symbol stamped on it like a Vision.

It floated down gently onto Zhongli’s palms, its teal aura creating a refreshing breeze all around him.

“Thank you,” The Geo Archon said, pocketing it, “This is exactly what I need.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just returning what Barbatos gave me,” Dvalin replied, “At the end of that incident, he gave me a portion of his powers. Now, I give it back to you to restore his lyre.”

So that’s why the energy felt familiar.

“Is there anything else you require from me?” The Dragon of the East asked, tilting his large head.

Zhongli shook his head, “No, that’s all. How have you been, Dvalin? Venti said hi, by the way.”

“Better now than before,” Dvalin’s deep voice rumbled as he laid down, “Please pass my greetings onto him too.”

Zhongli nodded, settling down next to the dragon. Together, the two passed the time reminiscing and catching up with each other until sundown.

For Venti’s first day in his new job as Angel Share’s official bard, he was allotted to the morning to noon shifts, and then the sunset to night slots. Thus, when Zhongli arrived at Angel Share’s, he saw his friend singing up on the small stage set up in the corner for the tavern’s bards.

Venti grinned at him when he entered. Zhongli knew that if he could wave, he would have, but his hands were full with playing his lyre. The earth god briefly raised a hand to greet him, before turning to look for a seat.

He spotted a free spot by the bar and quickly sat there before anyone else could. Strange, normally taverns and bars began to fill in the evening, after everyone have finished working. Yes, the sun was setting now, but there shouldn’t be this many customers yet. They should be slowly, steadily coming in, not already filling up the tables and chairs to nearly-full capacity.

“He truly is good at what he does,” Zhongli turned and saw the redhead winery owner standing behind the bar, his arms crossed as he stared at the singing bard, “Normally, this kind of crowd only come in during weekend nights, yet this is the weekday and my tavern has been full since the morning.”

“Venti does have a gift for music,” Zhongli spoke, to which Diluc nodded.

“Yes,” the redhead sighed, “If only he doesn’t have a gift for drinking too.”

Zhongli glanced at the stage and saw a mug set on a stool next to it. He raised a brow, “How many have he been drinking?”

“Five since he started the night shift, and ten during the morning shift according to the bartender that morning,” Diluc frowned, “Normally, one shouldn’t drink during work, especially that many, but somehow he keeps finding a way to get the customers to buy him drinks.”

“That is what he usually does whenever he finds that his appearance prevents him from buying a drink,” The earth god replied, shaking his head. He was much too used to his friend’s antics to be fazed by it anymore.

“Anyone drinking that much during work would usually be suspended or fired since they wouldn’t be able to do their job,” Diluc muttered, “But since he is who he is, I guess he has a much higher alcohol resistance than us regular folks. I once saw him drank forty mugs in a row, and he only looked slightly tipsy as a result.”

Zhongli nodded, remembering the times Venti would dragged him out barhopping, “Yes, usually it takes around fifty glasses before he gets truly drunk.”

“Fifty...” Diluc shook his head, “Most of us would be drunk after two or three glasses in a row. You two are truly something else...”

A faint smile graced his lips, before it disappeared when he saw Venti drinking onstage to the cheers of the crowd. He sighed; Zhongli didn’t begrudge Venti for his drinking habit—knowing how difficult it was for the younger god to get truly drunk on mortal wine in the first place, and that even when he was drunk, Venti wasn’t the type to hurt himself or others—but when the windborne bard drank a little too much, his songs became sloppier, more explicit, and—to Zhongli’s refined preferences—tasteless.

Venti’s voice and instrument was still worthy of one called the God of Songs, but when he became drunk, that talent, the Lord of Geo thought, became squandered.

What a disgrace to the arts, Zhongli sighed, shaking his head fondly, At least he looks cute when drunk.

Truly, that red flush on the wind god’s cheeks looked particularly adorable.

The door to the tavern opened. Zhongli would have ignored it, but his eyes caught onto the woman’s blond hair, similar in shade to what her ancestor once had. Glancing around, the knight’s gaze eventually settled onto one of the few remaining seats left, right next to Zhongli’s spot.

Jean, the current Lion of the South, approached him with a smile.

As she sat next to him, Jean greeted him politely, “Hello there, I’ve seen you around lately with our famous bard, Venti. My name is Jean Gunnhildr. May I have the honour of knowing yours?”

“Please, call me Zhongli,” He replied to the knight, “It’s an honour to make your acquaintance, Acting Grandmaster Jean. The tales of your courage and grace has spread even to Liyue.”

She smiled, laughing softly, “The honour’s all mine. Thank you so much, sir.”

The God of Commerce saw not a hint of deceit in her smile. This one, Zhongli noted, epitomised the Knights of Favonius code of chivalry to the bone.

How strange...how did one so bound to duty came to possess an Anemo Vision, whose wings symbolised the freedom of the birds?

Perhaps he would ask Venti that later.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how are you settling into Mondstadt?” Jean asked, “I heard that you’re staying with Venti now?”

“Yes, I am,” he replied, idly wondering if she would also ‘congratulate’ him for some reason, “Mondstadt has been quite welcoming to me so far.”

Jean didn’t, but that was simply because she didn’t know him before now, “I see. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself here. I hope that, in time, it may feel like home.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at Venti, “I am getting used to it, but it already does.”

The Acting Grandmaster raised a brow and glanced between him and Venti, before she looked at the redhead who had been casually listening in on their conversation. Diluc shrugged at her questioning gaze.

“There is one thing though...” Zhongli murmured, drawing both of their attention back to him, “I require the assistance of a skilled craftsperson. Who in Mondstadt would you say is the best at creating and fixing lyres?”

Diluc frowned thoughtfully, “I thought that you would be the one fixing it?”

“I have gathered the materials to do so,” Zhongli answered calmly, “However, it does not feel right for me to be the one to do it.”

“What are you talking about?” Jean looked confused.

Dropping his voice low and quiet to avoid being overheard, Diluc whispered, “The Holy Lyre.”

“The Holy—” Jean’s eyes widened as she swivelled to look at Zhongli, “How did you came to possess it?”

“I do not ‘possess’ it, I am simply borrowing it to fix it,” The Geo Archon replied, “As to your question, Master Diluc. While I do have the knowledge to do so, isn’t the Holy Lyre a proof of the connection between Barbatos and Mondstadt? It feels inappropriate for I, who comes from Liyue, to interfere in such sacred bond.”

“I will help guide and teach the blacksmith on how to repair divine instruments,” the God of Contracts stated, “But I feel that it is best for the people of Mondstadt themselves to repair the proof of their covenant with their god with their own hands.”

Hearing this, Jean slowly nodded. “I understand your point...” she said, “Well, if it’s craftspeople you want, I would recommend Wagner. Although he is more known as a blacksmith, his ability to craft and repair instruments is equally great.”

“Mondstadt is the City of Songs and Bards,” Diluc added, “Any blacksmith worth their while here would also know how to repair an instrument at least.”

“Thank you,” Zhongli returned, “This will do nicely.”

Both of them nodded back. The conversation done for now, Zhongli shifted his attention towards the stage, a small smile on his face as he watched his friend perform. He didn’t notice the two humans staring at him and Venti, realisation growing in their eyes.

The next morning, Zhongli found himself at Wagner’s forge.

“Good morning,” the earth god greeted the blacksmith, who was already hammering away in the early morning hours, “Are you Wagner the Blacksmith?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” the blacksmith paused for a moment, glancing up at him, “Anything I can help you with?”

“I need you to repair something for me...” there were nearly no one else on this street this close to dawn, so Zhongli thought it was safe to pull it out, “...The Holy Lyre der Himmel.”

Wagner’s eyes widened. He set down his hammer and quickly gestured at Zhongli to come inside, “Lord Barbatos’ lyre...how did you get it? When and how did it got broken? And why did you come to me to fix it?”

Zhongli followed the blacksmith into the shop, turning around to face him when he heard Wagner locked the door behind them. He said, “It’s quite a long story...”

Wagner listened to him silently. Zhongli told him roughly what happened during the Stormterror Incident and how he got permission to borrow the Holy Lyre, omitting the fact that Venti was Barbatos. When he finished, the blacksmith looked shocked, a hand brushing his face as he shook his head in disbelief.

“To think that Lord Barbatos still watches over us quietly...” Wagner muttered, “I’ve heard that Stormterror is actually Dvalin, the Dragon of the East, but to think that our Archon himself have descended to secretly help us in our time of need...”

“He doesn’t like the special attention,” Zhongli shrugged, “If he does anything divine, it would be in secret, where few people would see. Barbatos is not the type to seek the awe and attention of worshippers, you see. He much prefers to be an anonymous bard.”

The blacksmith looked up, “How do you know so much about our Lord? Who are you?”

Zhongli’s smile was a secretive one, “No one of importance.”

“Right...” Wagner shook his head again, skeptical, “Anyway, you haven’t answered my question: Why me? There are other craftspeople in Mondstadt who specialises in making and fixing musical instruments.”

To that question, Zhongli brought out the materials he got from the Four Winds. Wagner’s eyes widened again as he set each down onto the table and gestured to them one by one.

“This branch is imbued with the power of the thousand winds from Windrise, taken from the great tree by Vennessa, the Falcon of the West,” The Lord of Geo pointed to the branch, then to the crystal, “This crystal is the purest of its kind, mined from the realm of wolves with the aid of Andrius, Wolf of the North.”

He pointed to the glowing orb next, “This is an orb of concentrated Anemo energy, given to me by Dvalin, Dragon of the East.”

At last, the Geo Archon gestured at the blacksmith, “And finally, you, the blacksmith recommended to me by Jean Gunnhildr, the current Lion of the South.”

“Each of the Four Winds of Mondstadt have done their part to help repair the Anemo Archon’s Holy Lyre. Now, I must ask you to do yours.”

“But...” Wagner shook his head, “While I do know a thing or two about repairing lyre, to repair a divine instrument...one from Lord Barbatos himself...that’s—!”

“I understand that it may seem overwhelming for you,” Zhongli reassured, “Do not fret, for I will guide you along the way.”

Wagner stared at him, disbelief clear in his eyes, “Just...who are you?”

“Call me Zhongli,” the Geo Archon, former Emperor of Liyue, smiled mysteriously, “Like I said, no one of importance.”

It took a week for them to repair the Holy Lyre der Himmel.

During that time, Venti had repeatedly asked him where he was going lately, but Zhongli either evaded or refused to answer the question. He knew that it made the wind god suspicious of him, but he also knew that Venti trusted him and knew Zhongli well enough to believe that he wasn’t doing anything malicious. That is why, after a few days of receiving non-answers, Venti appeared to have given up on asking him and seemed to be (impatiently)waiting for him to tell him himself.

Today was that day.

Venti had raised a brow when Zhongli asked him to go to the Church with him. As they left, the Anemo Archon had asked, “Why are we going to the cathedral? You’re definitely not one of my worshippers.”

“You have asked me where I was going lately, no?” Zhongli had replied, “You will get your answer there.”

That seemed enough to satisfy him for now. With a new spring in his steps, Venti headed towards the grand cathedral eagerly. Seeing this, Zhongli couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

Wait until he sees the lyre...

Upon arriving at the cathedral, a nun led them towards a private room for a meeting with the Seneschal, Acting Grandmaster, Dawn Winery’s owner, and a certain blacksmith. By his side, Zhongli noticed that Venti’s interest shot up drastically when he heard these names.

He smiled faintly to himself, opening the doors to the meeting room. Next to him, Venti gasped, his eyes going wide upon seeing what was inside.

“I-Is that...?”

Zhongli’s smile turned wider as he nodded, “Yes, that is the Holy Lyre der Himmel.”

The disguised Anemo Archon inhaled sharply, a hand over his mouth. He approached his original lyre slowly, eyes blinking rapidly, as if afraid that if he looked away then it would disappear. There was no need for fear, however, for the Holy Lyre der Himmel have been restored to its full glory.

Venti didn’t seem to notice the other people in the room, watching him pick up the lyre with shaky hands. The windborne bard drew a deep breath, calming himself, before he plucked a single tune. It resonated beautifully in the private room, drawing a small smile on Venti’s face.

“How did you...?” Venti turned to Zhongli, the question clear in his eyes.

“It was all thanks to the people in this room and the Four Winds,” Zhongli answered, gesturing to the others, “Master Diluc here was the one who helped me get in touch with the Seneschal, who gave me permission to borrow the Holy Lyre. The Dandelion Knight was the one who recommended our blacksmith here, Wagner, to fix it.”

“As for the materials needed to repair it, I got them with the help of the Four Winds,” the Geo Archon explained, “The wood came from a branch from Windrise, plucked by Venessa, the Falcon of the West, herself. The crystal orbs that contains the Anemo power was found by Andrius, the Wolf of the North, while the Anemo energy itself comes from Dvalin, the Dragon of the East.”

Zhongli gazed at Venti, knowing that only he and two others in this room understood the double meaning in his next words, “The people of Mondstadt themselves were the ones who restored the pact between them and their god, Barbatos.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t lessen yourself like that, Mr. Zhongli,” Seamus interrupted. When Venti looked at him, the Seneschal explained, “This wouldn’t be possible without his help. He was the one who approached us with the idea of repairing it, and it was he who took it upon himself to gather the materials needed. We are in his debt.”

“He was also the one to teach me how to repair the divine instrument,” Wagner added, glancing at Zhongli, “I don’t know how he knows how to do that, but the Holy Lyre wouldn’t be fixed without him.”

Venti turned to him, the happy tears in his eyes threatening to fall. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, hugging him tightly.

Zhongli—who was the only one there who truly understood how much the Holy Lyre meant to Venti—returned the embrace with a smile, “You’re welcome, my friend.”

As promised by the Seneschal, Venti got to perform with the Holy Lyre the very next day.

Zhongli stood by the sides, watching the crowds gathered beneath the large statue of the Anemo Archon. Yesterday, after showing the repaired Holy Lyre to Venti, Seamus and Jean had ordered a day off for the citizens of Mondstadt, and told the Church and the Knights to spread word that an event would happen the next day. Now, Venti stood on the palms of his own statue, his original lyre in hand while he surveyed the crowd with a smile.

From what the Liyuean could hear from the crowd, most of them were confused as to why Venti was up there with Barbatos’ lyre. Usually, the Holy Lyre was only taken out during New Year’s Eve to commemorate the event. Most of them shrugged it off, however, saying that there was nothing wrong with a day off and free entertainment.

Zhongli chuckled to himself; the people of Mondstadt were as carefree as their Archon.

The crowd hushed when the disguised Anemo Archon began playing his lyre, testing out the tune. Then, with a large grin, Venti began to sing.

No words were spoken when the God of Freedom sang, for every being under the heavens were captivated by his song.

When the final song ended, the plaza exploded into applause.

Seeing his friend’s exhilarated smile after his stellar performance—the crowd’s applause an almost overpowering wave after the captivated silence that hushed them—Zhongli smiled. This was one of the reasons why he sought to fix the Holy Lyre der Himmel. It was this scene that made his self-imposed quest almost worth it.

He deserves this.

Ever since the first time Venti won the Carmen Dei competition, Zhongli had wanted to see this scene again—of his loved one, basking in the praise of his people after all the times the Anemo Archon sung alone in the forests, or to drunk patrons and uninterested passerby. Venti was the God of Songs, and Zhongli wished for the people of Mondstadt to treat him as such, even if they may not necessarily know it.

Pride welled up in him for Venti. It felt good to see his dear friend in the spotlight he so deserved again.

Later that night, after they have changed to their night clothes and loosened their hair from its braids and ponytail, Venti said this to Zhongli over dinner:

“Thank you,” the wind god said again sincerely, smiling widely over their meal of cold-cut platters, “Really. Being able to play my friend’s lyre again...I thought I would never be able to do that again, but you proved me wrong. So thank you, Zhongli.”

Zhongli smiled back, “It was nothing.”

“It’s not ‘nothing’,” Venti insisted with a shake of his head, “It really means so much to me. How can I ever repay you?”

Zhongli stared at the smile on his dear friend’s face and laughed softly, “You already did.”

Morax—Zhongli—was someone who was both incredibly selfish, and incredibly selfless at the same time. He would never make a deal that wouldn’t benefit him in some way, yet at the same token he would never agree to something that was one-sidedly in his favour. No matter what, he would always strive to make sure whatever contract he made would lead to a win-win situation.

This was what he had told Diluc when the redhead asked him what he stood to gain from all this:

“All I wanted was to see Venti smile because of me.”

To be the source of someone’s happiness—if only for a moment—was a very selfish, yet human desire.

.

.

.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Honestly, writing this chapter was difficult for me because I’m really not in the mood for anything Genshin-related right now. Sorry, but I’ll be taking a brief break for now. Heads up, I’m gonna rant a bit here!

I wonder if you guys have heard about the controversy surrounding Zhongli’s playable version? Basically, lots of people are angry at Mihoyo right now because they released Zhongli with a severely underwhelming kit (in comparison to other 5*) and locked much of his utility behind constellations (e.g. additional pillar, shield after meteor, longer petrification, etc...).

A 5* character in Genshin can cost upwards of hundreds of dollars, and/or months of saving up primogems for F2P. Naturally, you’ll expect to get something of equal value, right? Well this time, it didn’t turn out that way...

Zhongli’s attacks are only slightly better than Xiangling’s, a free 4* character. His pillar (as of right now) generates energy randomly and provides low damage, his meteor only petrifies for 4 secs at max Talent (which is barely enough to do anything substantial), Petrification itself is basically a lesser version of Frozen (can’t do any elemental reactions), and his hold takes up a long cast time (during which you can be interrupted and attacked).

Mihoyo’s official statement says that he’s supposed to be a Shield-maker and Crowd Control. That’s great, but he’s not even good at it. It takes a long time to cast a shield, and even then it can easily be destroyed by a few hits from a boss. As for his meteor, 4 seconds at max Talent isn’t enough to do much, and you need to whale to up it to 6 seconds. His healing is also locked behind C6.

Furthermore, his pillars regenerates energy randomly, so it’s up to RNG when you’ll get to cast his meteors. How is that good support?

For shields, at the top of my head, you have Noelle (technically free+healing), Diona, and Xinyan now. They’re 4* so it’s easier to get them, and it doesn’t take as much work to invest in them compared to Zhongli. They also have other utilities that supports the team, such as healing or applying elements for reactions.

For crowd control, you have, at the top of my head, Venti (fellow Archon), Sucrose, perma-freeze combo with Barbara/Xingqiu + Kaeya/Chongyun, Jean, Anemo Traveller, etc. They’re more reliable, have longer durations, have elemental reactions, and generally much easier to build and slot into teams too.

Also, his meteor scales with Attack (it gets additional damage from his HP, but it mainly scales off his Attack), while his shields scale with HP, yet Zhongli gets Geo Damage as his special stat??? Wtf, it’s all over the place. This doesn’t make sense...

I love Zhongli. I don’t care if he can’t be DPS, I just want him to have a place to shine! I don’t mind if he’s support; Venti’s a support and he’s great! But Mihoyo—for some reason—didn’t do that. Instead, they turned him into a support that needs to be supported.

Again, to be clear, I’m not mad at Zhongli. I’m still glad I got him because I love his character and story. Hahaha...I wouldn’t have made this fic in the first place if I didn’t love Zhongli.

However, I’m mad at Mihoyo for releasing such a hyped character with such a mediocre kit. How can they not know that doing this will hurt the players? Seriously, what the fuck were they thinking???

I’m not expecting him to be OP-level like Venti or Diluc, but at least be usable. At least he shouldn’t be outshone in every area by 4 star characters.

This also makes me worried for future 5* characters. Ganyu, Albedo, Ayaka, and Xiao may be next to be nerfed if this keeps up. Considering how hyped up Ayaka and Xiao are, I won’t be surprised if Mihoyo will give them an underwhelming kit too and lock a bunch of their abilities behind constellations as well...After all, they know that, no matter what, those two will sell...

Ugh...sorry...I hope I’m not making those who did pull Zhongli feel bad, because that’s not my intention. I’m just really, really frustrated because Mihoyo’s official statement is basically: “Thank you for all your feedback, but we’re not going to do anything. Players should just get good at using him.”

Like, what the hell???

Also, the only bug fix they mentioned was for Zhongli’s C2, and not his pillars. How is he supposed to gather energy for his meteors and team if the energy regen is random??? Furthermore, C2 Zhongli is only something whales or really lucky players would get; most of us would only get C0. This doesn’t fix the major issues.

TL;DR: I love Zhongli, but even I can see some glaring issues in his kit. It’s difficult for me to see that a character I love and want to see thrive ends up being memed and dismissed to death because Mihoyo released him with a severely underwhelming kit. It’s because I love him and want the best for the players and him that I feel incredibly disappointed by Mihoyo’s actions and response.

Argh...This is just so, so, so frustrating. I’m really, really sorry, but right now I’m just feeling very bitter and upset. I don’t think I’ll be updating any time soon...

Don’t worry though, I’ll continue writing when I feel better. Right now, I’m just...not in the mood to. Sorry...

More info can be found here: Mihoyo’s official response to Zhongli doesn’t make sense, and Zhongli Compared to Other Characters

Uploaded on 9 December 2020

Edited (1 September 2021): Fixed Zhongli’s title from ‘God of War’ to ‘Warrior God’

Next Chapter Summary:

“To cleanse the land and defend our safe harbour...that was the first contract in Liyue.” In this era of god-eat-god, all that mattered was the survival of the fittest, not the means.

Chapter Text

To cleanse the land and defend our safe harbour... that was the first contract in Liyue.

It comes with a heavy duty, one which I am only too glad to bear. For thousands of years after that contract was made, I have to stifle my emotions and think only of duty, but I do not regret it. Even as the years passed and the friends who stood by me have disappeared into memory, I will do it all again if I must.

This is an age of gods and monsters. I do not wish for dominion, yet I cannot watch the common folk suffer. If I must suffer in their stead, then come, bare your swords at me and try to cut me down. You will find that I am as immovable as a mountain.

When the Heavens move, the whole Earth trembles. No matter what, I will have order.

The Goddess of Salt, Havria, held dominion to the far north of Liyue, close to Decarabian’s stormy realm. Hers was but a tiny, underground haven for her people, hidden deep beneath the earth. Before the Archon War began, however, her realm had been much larger.

Morax had met her three times, and his impression of her was that she was a kind and gentle goddess. Yet kindness has its limitations in the face of war, and those who were gentle would not survive long in front of slaughter. This, Morax knew all too well.

The first time he met her, it was before chaos swept the land. She had welcomed the adeptus with open arms, and showed him all across her then-large realm. The memory of a field of glaze lilies, in particular, remained with him through all the years to come, though it had taken additional meanings as the centuries crept on.

The second time he met her, the war had begun, and he had come to strike a contract with her for her lands. The contents of said contract was paraphrased as shown:

In exchange for giving her supplies such as food and necessities at the agreed upon frequency, the Goddess of Salt, Havria, shall concede a portion of her lands to the God of Contracts, Morax.

She had capitulated to his and Guizhong’s demands much quicker than either of them had thought. Then again, this was her nature—to avoid conflict and seek peace whenever she could. Morax admired her gentleness in times of peace, but had wondered how it would serve her in times of war.

Still, who was he to judge her for her actions? In this era of god-eat-god, only survival mattered, not the means. Some chose to pick up arms; some chose to run away. Either way, the only thing that mattered was the results.

Havria did not have the strength he possessed, nor Guizhong’s wisdom and inventions. Thus, the only thing she could do to protect her people was run away.

And Morax simply watched her do so, standing away in the distance while she conceded her lands again and again to other gods, until all that remained was but a small blot on the map.

There were no contracts binding her to him besides the supply agreement, nor any deep familiarity between them. He has other gods to contend with, too, as well as his own people to care for, and he had never received any request for his protection from her either. And so, Morax turned a blind eye towards the Goddess of Salt.

In this era of god-eat-god, all that mattered was the survival of the fittest, not the means.

It all started with a letter.

To the consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, Mr. Zhongli,

We have heard much about the breadth of your knowledge on all things related to Liyue. Your knowledge of Liyue’s economy, trends, cuisine, crafts, and more is said to be unsurpassed by all save for Rex Lapis. Thus, we humbly invite you to the Pearl Galley to talk to you about the history of our great Geo Archon.

The date showed that it was sent out more than a week ago, around a day before the Rite of Descension began. It was sent directly to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour instead of his private residence on Mount Tianheng, most likely because he rarely disclosed the location of his home to mortals. With all the events that happened shortly afterwards, Zhongli must have forgotten about it.

Ferrylady was kind enough to forward it—and the rest of his mail—to the former consultant’s new address. Zhongli doubted Hu Tao would have done it.

“Are you going to go?” Venti asked while taking a bite of his apple, placing an elbow over Zhongli’s shoulder and leaning forward to read it, “The invitation is for today, right? Since you’re still an adeptus even after giving up your Gnosis, I’m sure you can travel back to Liyue Harbour in a few hours.”

For a regular mortal, it would have taken days, if not a week or two of travel by foot to go from Mondstadt to Liyue. Neither of them were regular mortals though.

“Hmm...” Zhongli took a sip of his tea. He was seated by their small dining table, pose as perfect and elegant as ever in the morning light. Unlike Venti, he had already showered and wore his usual suit, “Perhaps I shall. I’m quite interested to see what these historians and archeologists think of my legacy.”

“You’re always interested in those stuff,” Venti laughed slightly, breath ghosting over Zhongli’s cheek, “Heh, for someone so humble, you sure are interested in yourself.”

“It’s important to know how the general public perceives you if you wish to rule successfully,” the Geo Archon retorted, trying to ignore how close the other god was by focusing on his tea and letter, “Of course, not that you would care about that.”

Venti laughed again, this time louder as he pushed himself off Zhongli’s back, “Of course not! I leave that sort of thing to you, you workaholic!”

“Lazy layabout,” Zhongli replied, a hint of fondness seeping into his tone. He tapped a finger against the paper, “Are you interested in coming with me?”

“Sure,” the wind god grinned, finishing his apple before tossing the core to the trash bin, “It’ll be interesting to see what stories your followers exaggerated this time.”

And just like that, they have a plan for the day.

They called him the Warrior God.

This title was deserved, for how else would he and his people have survived until now? It was not an era of peace, where words could hold sway over the masses. This was an era of war, where the only rule was ‘might makes right’.

Therefore, if Morax wanted to be ‘right’, if he wished to have order and peace, then he mustbe the strongest.

A flaming arrow shot past him, barely missing his cheek. Calm golden gaze stared at his opponent: a female fire god with a bow made of condensed sunburst. Her glare at him was as fiery as the element she ruled over, but it did nothing to Morax’s stone-like stoic composure.

He shot his spear forward. The fire goddess dodged to the left, aiming at him again. As she charged her shots, however, Morax rushed forward and re-summoned his spear, bringing it down upon her.

Her eyes widened at the assault, and she leapt back, the ground before her splitting under the force of Morax’s blow. Before she could center herself though, a rain of stone spears fell from the soot-stained sky; the ashes a grim reminder that his people had been burnt to cinders by her powers. She dodged the spears as best as she could, but one nicked her side, and she sprawled onto the dirt.

Morax seized his chance to pierce her chest with his spear, pinning her onto the cracked, dry earth.

“N-no!” She cried out, blood splattering out of her mouth. Weakly, she tried to pull his spear out, “I-I can’t die yet! My people, my love, Xing—!”

He summoned another stone spear and slashed her head off.

The fire goddess head rolled on the ground, her face a permanent visage of terror and regret as her body burst into flames, searing his battered armour and burning away his hooded coat. What did she thought of during her final moments? Who did she thought of before she died?

Morax didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

In this era of god-eat-god, all that mattered was the survival of the fittest, not the means.

Venti, Zhongli observed from the corners of his eyes, seemed to be enjoying their discussion a little too much.

“I believe that the appearance and disappearance of the stone monoliths that occurred around a thousand years ago was the Geo Archon trying to send a message,” the esteemed archaeologist, Hanxue stated proudly, “Our Lord was obviously trying to contact someone—or something—using those monoliths.”

“Oh?” He saw Venti barely hid a grin behind his cup of wine. The disguised wind god was the only one out of the group drinking alcohol, all the drinks paid for courtesy of Yixuan, the glasses-wearing archeologist, “Who do you think he was sending a message to?”

Yixuan stated calmly, in a professor-like tone, “My research suggests that it’s a message—or more accurately, a warning—to the evil gods that slumbers beneath Guyun Stone Forest. After all, the records indicated that they showed up from the top of Mount Tianheng all the way to the cape that overlooked the stone forest.”

“I see. A perfectly reasonable conclusion to make,” Venti nodded, appearing serious when Zhongli knew that the Anemo Archon was secretly laughing his ass off, “However, may I propose an alternative theory?”

Zhongli side-eyed him as he raised his cup of simple green tea. Venti didn’t look back—for if he did it would break his serious act—but the Geo Archon did feel a slight ripple in the breeze, ruffling his hair. Listening closely, he could hear the faint sounds of the wind god’s laughter.

“I think,” Venti crossed his arms, putting his chin in one hand as if he was in deep thought, “That the monoliths are a message to his long-lost lover.”

Zhongli almost choked on his tea.

“An interesting theory,” Yixuan considered, “Who do you think was the Geo Archon’s lover?”

Venti’s grin was bordering on a smirk, “Who do you think?”

That little—!

“Oh, I see what you mean,” Wanyan, who had been quiet for most of their discussion, spoke up, “It’s the Goddess of Dust, Guizhong, right?”

It was a good thing that Guizhong wasn’t here, for if she was then he had no doubt that she would have laughed so uproariously that she would have gotten kicked off the boat. As it was, Zhongli subtly glared at Venti, the tips of his ears burning red.

He could hear laughter in the wind, audible only to him.

Yes, a long, long time ago they were a couple, but time had cooled the passion brought on by the dangerous era they had lived in to a more comfortable, familial friendship. Guizhong was his best friend, (sometimes annoying) little sister, and occasional friend-with-benefits, but not lover. Not anymore.

They really should have changed the name of the Guili Plains to something else, but it was too late for that now.

Venti knew this. Zhongli was pretty sure he and Guizhong had told him the nature of their current relationship now at some point...right?

Yes, Zhongli was certain of that.

“You’re exactly right, Ms. Wanyan,” Venti replied, still looking serious. Zhongli was this close to taking away his wine, “I believe that those disappearing monoliths are a tribute to the dead goddess, perhaps a way for Rex Lapis to remember her passing.”

Guizhong would have too much fun here. Zhongli knew that if she was here, she would have fanned this into a much bigger thing. Maybe something scandalous or ridiculous...

Most of the more absurd stories about Rex Lapis came from these two.

“I think there’s a simpler reason for that monolith incident,” Zhongli coughed, drawing their attention.

“Oh?” Venti’s inquisitive smile seemed innocent to observers, but Zhongli knew him well enough to know that it was the opposite, “What do you think then, Zhongli?”

Zhongli narrowed his eyes a tiny bit, just enough for Venti to noticed it but not the others. “I think,” the Geo Archon stated, “He was simply drunk.”

“Hah!” Hanxue laughed, “The Lord of Geo? Drunk? Ah, I didn’t know you have such a sense of humour, Mr. Zhongli.”

“I find it hard to believe myself,” Yinxuan agreed, “Rex Lapis is known for his profound wisdom, dignity, and grace. I cannot imagine our Lord getting drunk.”

Out of the corners of his eyes, Zhongli saw Venti stifled his laughter into his drink, turning it into a quiet snicker. The wind murmured in his ears, amused, “Your followers really do love you.”

“Is there any reason why you think Morax created the monoliths while drunk?” Wanyan asked, leaning forward with interest. Zhongli noted that—despite being a Liyuean—she had used his Archon name instead of his title, Rex Lapis.

Quietly, Zhongli ‘lightly’ stepped on Venti’s foot beneath the table, while calmly sipping his tea and ignoring the wind god’s quiet yelp, “Mondstadt and Liyue are neighbours, no? And both Rex Lapis and the Anemo Archon Barbatos are from the original Seven. Perhaps they had simply enjoyed a night out and had gotten a little too inebriated.”

Hidden behind his hand and cup, Zhongli murmured to the wind, “Thank you, for reminding why I should never drink any unearthly concoctions you make.”

Guessing from the snicker Venti quickly hid behind his hand, the message was received.

“Hmm...I don’t think I can agree with that,” Hanxue crossed his arms, expression thoughtful, “Have you seen the Anemo Archon’s statues or hear his legends from the priests and nuns of Mondstadt? My impression of Lord Barbatos is that they’re a dignified, quiet, gentle person.”

The other two humans nodded, agreeing with the archeologist’s assumption. Zhongli saw Venti bent over the desk a little, shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth. He himself had to resist the urge to either gape or chuckle.

Venti? Dignified? Quiet?

At least they got the ‘gentle’ part right...

“Moving on from the monoliths though...” Yixuan suggested, “What do you think happened to the first Mora?”

The discussion grew a bit more heated after that, each believing their own theories and hypotheses. Hanxue and Yinxuan, in particular, seemed to truly believe that the first mora he had made was some kind of powerful, magical object; biased towards the idea that their Lord’s ways were much more mysterious than they could ever imagined. Meanwhile, Wanyan’s theories were wrong—Zhongli knew for a fact—but they were simpler and seemed much more grounded in reality.

Venti didn’t help at all, tossing some ridiculous suggestion here and there that, for some reason, the archaeologists either eagerly accepted or denied vigorously.

“They all have their own ideas of you,” the wind whispered to his ears, thoroughly amused, “And none of them are willing to change their image of you in their heads. How interesting...”

Their conversation was stopped for a moment when a certain Traveller glided into the boat, apparently having thought that it would be an interesting spot to explore. Zhongli raised a brow at her appearance—most people did not fly into the Pearl Galley—while Venti waved his hand. In short order, Lumine and Paimon joined their discussion.

Neither Lumine nor Paimon talked much, however, preferring to stare at Zhongli with growing incredulousness as the archeologists presented their theories. Occasionally, they would also glance at Venti, who was biting his lips hard in an effort to not laugh.

“Hmm...” Yixuan eventually asked, “I think that Mr. Hanxue’s hypothesis seems reasonable. Mr. Zhongli’s argument, on the other hand, lacks any evidence. How can you so easily dismiss the Lord of Geo’s profound foresight?”

Venti nearly choked on his wine. The wind’s laughter was heard only to himself, the Traveller, and Paimon, “You? ‘Profound insight’? Yeah right, you brutish, blundering buffoon.”

Zhongli ignored him, stating calmly, “No, I am not debating right or wrong. I am simply stating a fact.”

Yet, despite him explicitly saying such thing, none of the humans believed him.

“Well, that’s how it goes. Once someone gets an image in their head about what someone looked like, it’s hard to shake them out of it, ” the wind pointed out in between giggles, “You may have once written history in stone, but everything will eventually erode under the winds of time.”

That may be true, Zhongli silently agreed, subtly eyeing the Traveller, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t find other ways to preserve their past.

Eventually, their discussion ended with Wanyan asking him for a private meeting. He agreed, on the condition that Venti and Lumine (and by extension, Paimon) was allowed to join them. The other archeologists, Hanxue and Yixuan, let them go, seemingly relieved to no longer be talking to someone who seemed to like slandering Rex Lapis.

How many gods have he killed? How many humans have died because of him?

Morax didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

There was no time to contemplate such grim matters. He stood on top of a hill, overlooking his army that spread out beneath him like a sea of wheat; human lives which would be harvested in the slaughter to come. In the distance before them, stood an equally large wave of soldiers.

Next to him, Guizhong, his second-in-command, was leaning over the desk, busy working over the final details of their war plans with the other adepti and human generals. Her ballistas were prepped on the hills and towers behind them, ready to fire on her order.

Morax looked up at the sky above them.

The heavens above was clear blue; the sprawling clouds a pure white. The wind that brushed across his face carried the refreshing breeze of dawn. High above them, so far away as if it was its own world, serene Celestia watched over them.

What do those divines think of this gruesome play below them? Did they think it was a tragedy...or a comedy?

Or perhaps they simply didn’t care at all.

It didn’t matter. If one day he would attain a seat among the Seven—like his people and adepti hoped—he would not live in that faraway heaven, cold and indifferent to the sufferings of his country. If, one day, Morax were to become an Archon, then he would continue living in this mortal world, with all its joys and sorrows.

A war horn resounded across the plains. Morax drew his gaze back onto the earth, to that army that threatened him and his people. He summoned his weapon, knowing that his generals and soldiers did the same after him.

How many would he kill today? How many must he kill before he could gain the order he so wished?

Morax didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

It was painfully obvious that Wanyan has ulterior motives to draw him away.

“Do you think that all the gods that the Geo Archon killed were evil?”

What an interesting question...and not one Zhongli liked to think about often. Pushing aside memories of that bygone war, the Geo Archon answered, “...Let’s not analyse it in terms of good versus evil. Rex Lapis placed great importance on the integrity of contracts, so any gods he killed certainly must have broken some kind of contract.”

That was certainly true. Any gods who betrayed the peace treaties Morax had signed with them would be ruthlessly slaughtered—no exception. How else could he had found order during that chaotic time?

Though, they weren’t the only gods I had killed...

By his side, Venti shifted a little. He could feel the wind god’s gaze on him, though he couldn’t glance to see what kind of expression the Anemo Archon wore.

“But when I was doing some research, I learned about the legend of the Goddess of Salt. The Goddess of Salt, Havria, was a very kind god, but she encountered Morax one day in battle...” Wanyan told him, “Morax used a rather underhanded trick to... assassinate her.”

Ah, Zhongli thought, the pieces clicking into place, She’s one of the descendants of Havria’s people.

Most of Havria’s people now worked at Yinyuan Hall of the salt industry, one of the Eight Trades under the jurisdiction of the Liyue Qixing. Their knowledge of salt and the methods used to mine, harvest, and check its quality had been passed down from generations to generations—a testament to Havria’s legacy. Zhongli have long since consider them as one of his own.

Some of them, however, did not.

A minority of them still worshipped Havria, believing that she was a benevolent, powerful goddess that was killed by the Geo Archon. They refused to worship Rex Lapis, thinking that he was an unworthy usurper.

Zhongli didn’t mind that. They were all still a part of Liyue, and thus they were his children. Some children refused to believe in their parents and would rebel against them; it was only natural. As long as they didn’t disturb the peace, then Zhongli—Morax—would let their discontentment of his rule pass.

Of course, now that Rex Lapis was ‘dead’ it seemed that some of them have become bolder.

How did history became so warped like this?

Their discussion was interrupted when a Fatui agent walked in from behind a screen, having evidently listening into their conversation. Zhongli had noticed him when they began talking, but had dismissed him since their talk was of nothing of grand consequence. It seemed, however, that Kliment thought otherwise.

“I heard that Wangsheng Funeral Parlour had a consultant named Zhongli with immense knowledge of ancient history and archaeology,” Kliment said, “So I paid Wangsheng Funeral Parlour a handsome amount to hire Zhongli as my own consultant while I’m in town.”

Zhongli frowned thoughtfully, “So you mean to say that this is work for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, yes?”

From the corners of his eyes, he could see Venti tilting his head. The wind whispered in his ears, “Didn’t you quit your job there when you moved into Mondstadt?”

He did, but it might have been that Kliment had paid for his services before the Rite of Descension occurred, and Zhongli had simply forgotten about it in the ensuing chaos. Either that, or Hu Tao took on the commission without telling him to prank him or something.

Knowing Hu Tao, it was most likely the latter.

“I no longer work for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, however you have paid for my services,” Zhongli told Kliment, “As such, it would be wrong of me to refuse. Very well then, I shall act as your consultant.”

“I only ask that you allow my friends here to come along with us. Venti here is a bard of some renown, so he’s quite knowledgeable of tales and folklore from all over Teyvat.”

Zhongli ignored the undignified ‘Hey!’ from his friend to gesture at the Traveller.

“While Lumine has a treasure-finding talent surpassed by no one. If my friend here espies a treasure chest, she will absolutely find a way to open it. This will surely be of great help to us.”

After all, she was the one who had solved all of Guizhong’s puzzles and unearthed her four commandments. When he had mentioned that to said goddess, his best friend was quite impressed.

“Wait, if you are studying archaeology, can I go too? I am also a scholar in this field, so I can help,” Wanyan spoke up, looking at him.

“Of course,” Zhongli nodded, “That will give us a chance to continue the topic we were just discussing.”

It would also give him the opportunity to tell the true history between himself and the Goddess of Salt. While Zhongli did not mind his people exaggerating his legends, it would be good keep the truth of the past in their minds.

The winds of time may erode the stone that history was written on, but it could always be chiseled again.

Morax returned to a somber kingdom.

Carts and stretches trailed behind him and his army, loaded with the bodies of the dead and injured. The villagers that they passed watched their procession with tears in their eyes and hands over their mouths in horror. They knew that many had not returned home today.

Yes, they were victorious, but at what cost?

This, Morax did know, even if he may not want to.

He ordered his soldiers to bring the wounded to medics as soon as they could, while the rest should arrange the dead on the field so that their families could identify them. Afterwards, he walked to the little hut by the side of the mountain which he called home, footsteps heavy.

As he walked, he saw his people gazed at him with equal amounts of fear and awe in their eyes. They were grateful for their protector, yes, but his powers terrified them, who were simply mere mortals. If he wanted to, he could easily rain down meteors over their heads.

Morax drew his hood up, blocking their eyes.

He was the fierce and cold martial god, whose heart—the people claimed—was like stone. Kindness and gentleness were traits more reserved to those like Havria or Guizhong.

He considered them all as one of his, but did they consider him as one of theirs?

Morax didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

If this was the price he had to pay for the power he needed to protect them, to uphold their contract, then Morax would gladly pay it.

Returning to Guyun Stone Forest brought back many memories to Zhongli.

Most of them weren’t pleasant. He remembered the gods he had cast down to this watery prison by his spear, and the humans and adepti that died in the progress. The memory of Osial also rang clear, the Overlord rising from the deep to terrorise his lands and drown the Guili Assembly to the point that half of it was now known as the Dihua Marsh.

Guizhong nearly died back then, Zhongli remembered. He didn’t like thinking about that.

Now, the Guyun Stone Forest was different from the murky abyss that was in his memories. Clear blue skies reflected off tranquil, cerulean waters; fishes and dolphins swam freely around the corals that grew on what was once his spears. The weapons and meteors he had thrown back then had eroded in time, too, now almost indistinguishable from a natural rock formation. If Zhongli didn’t remember how it used to be, he might have thought that this tranquil scenery was how it was always supposed to be.

Venti brushed his fingers against the back of Zhongli’s hand, murmuring, “Are you okay, old man?”

The tone was teasing, but when he glanced at the wind god, Zhongli could see the concern in his viridian eyes. It was enough for him to crack a small smile, “I’m fine. It’s just... the memories, you know?”

Venti nodded. Zhongli was sure the Anemo Archon understood him. There were some places that brought back memories, for good or ill; some moments that forced one to reflect and look back.

“Guyun Stone Forest is actually the perfect place to be if you wish to learn about the gods or the history of the Archon War,” the disguised Geo Archon told the group, “Legend has it that Rex Lapis threw spears made of large rock into the sea here, piercing and crushing the Overlord of the Vortex.”

While the mortals and the Traveller listened to him with interest, Zhongli heard the wind snarked, “Sure, ‘legends’. You sure know how to downplay yourself...”

Ignoring his friend with a skill borne from thousands of years of experience, Zhongli continued, “After many years of wind erosion, those stone spears have turned into the unique rock formations we see now. What we see now is just the part of them that remains. The stone spears hurled by Rex Lapis all those years ago were much greater, both in number and in size.”

To the Traveller and Paimon, the wind added, “This was actually how the Stone Gates between Mondstadt and Liyue was also formed.”

“Most of the objects from that time were lost to the sea, but the gigantic waves created by the Overlord of the Vortext have given those sunken objects a chance to see the light of day again,” Zhongli concluded.

The familiar glimmer of greed glinted in Kliment’s eyes, “So you’re saying that if we look carefully, we’ll be able to get very, very rich... Uh, I mean—rich with archaeological knowledge and historical value, yes? That’s all I seek in life.”

The Geo Archon knew from the start that the Fatui agent’s ulterior motive was money. It mattered not to the God of Wealth. Pursuit of riches was, in and of itself, not a terrible ambition to have, so long as one remembered that mora wasn’t the only thing in life that was precious.

Besides, Kliment’s greed gave the Lord of Geo a good cover for his plans.

In the end, they decided to split up: the two mortals together, while he and Venti paired with Lumine and Paimon. It seemed a little unbalanced, but Zhongli pointed out that the Fatui and Wanyan were both (self-proclaimed) experts, while Lumine was simply a traveller and Venti only knew a smattering of local tales and legends. At least, that was the excuse he made.

The truth of the matter was something else.

Long, long ago, Morax met a woman amidst a field of glaze lilies.

There was no formal contract between them. They were merely two people walking the same path for their own reasons. Yet after all else passed, Morax would still remember the scene of their first meeting.

“Why do you want to ally yourself with me?” He had asked then, eyeing her with equal amounts of wariness and skepticism.

Guizhong had laughed softly in return, saying sincerely, “It’s because I know that, deep down, you are a kind, gentle person.”

Hydro mimics, Zhongli grimaced as he slashed one away with his spear, are the worst.

Above him, Venti freely flew through the air, shooting down the Hydro frogs that tried to leap at him or Lumine, and providing support fire where he could. If the two mortals were here, then he would have limited his abilities to maintain his disguise, but since they weren’t, the Anemo Archon could freely use his powers, flying like the wind spirit he was born as. The same goes to the Geo Archon.

This was one of the reasons why he had grouped them together.

Next to him, Lumine stamped her foot, the earth clawing up at her command, caging the Hydro mimics in a circle of sharp rocks with them in the middle. Zhongli summoned a stone stele at the center—much smaller and slimmer than the stone spears he used to hurl in ages long past. It was enough to do the job however, as the Geo energy contained in that stele resonated with the Geo constructs summoned by Lumine, creating rapid waves of golden pulses that crushed their enemies.

Venti easily landed on the stone stele, sitting down on it with his legs dangling over thin air and a grin on his face.

“Well, that was interesting,” the wind god quipped, “So did we find anything?”

“Hmph,” Zhongli turned away, looking around them. He would not call fighting those annoying Hydro mimics as ‘interesting’, “Let us look around first.”

Paimon tilted her head, “Uh, is there something wrong with Mr. Zhongli?”

“Oh, don’t mind him,” Venti waved her concern off, “He just doesn’t like Hydro mimics all that much. Brings back bad memories.”

“Oh...” Lumine murmured, golden eyes soft with empathy, “Osial?”

“One of them, yes,” Zhongli replied, peering through the grass, “But there were other gods and demons too that utilised them. Let’s not speak of that anymore.”

It was not something Zhongli liked to think about. The memories of Hydro mimics overrunning the plains, destroying the Guili Village that he and Guizhong had worked so hard to build, and drowning the field of glaze lilies that was so important to him... Yes, he didn’t like thinking about it all.

His memory was too good sometimes.

“Hey, Zhongli!” He heard his friend shout, “Catch!”

The earth god turned, expecting Venti to throw something at him. What he did not expect was that Venti had thrown himself.

With a small, surprised grunt, Zhongli caught the wind god in his arms. Venti laughed, tilting his head back to the blue sky, eyes curved up into crescents. His hands were on his shoulders, balancing his small figure while its warmth reminded Zhongli of a certain night. This close, Zhongli suddenly remembered another time, in another place, around a bonfire under the light of the stars.

“Just focus on me,” the Anemo Archon had whispered back then, knowing how the stares of his people had effected him. His cheeks were stained red by the light of the flames back then, and his laughter was like a nightingale’s—charming and sweet. It was easy for him to get lost in the other’s eyes back then, just as it was easy for Zhongli to do so now.

Without knowing it, he found himself smiling.

His memory was too good sometimes.

Lumine watched with a thoughtful look, while Paimon gaped at them. Neither of the two gods noticed, however. Eventually, Zhongli set Venti down, the wind god still giggling at his little surprise.

They resumed their search then. After a few minutes have passed, Lumine found a stone slab. It seemed simple enough; the rock worn from years of erosion and exposure. Zhongli didn’t think there would be much value in it, but it should do for now. The quartet decided to head to the meeting point to discuss their next actions there.

The third and last time Morax saw Havria, she was smiling gently at him in the soft morning light.

He didn’t understand. How could she still smile so? Her once large realm had been reduced to a mere underground haven; a small refuge for her people to escape from the wars that broiled overhead. Yet even then, war found them anyway.

Still, Havria smiled.

“Thank you for coming with the supplies, Morax,” the Goddess of Salt said, nodding at the carts piled up with food and other necessities, “You have always been good at your word.”

“I am the God of Contracts after all,” Morax replied staidly.

She laughed softly, “Yes, of course.”

The Warrior God observed her. Despite the smile on her face, it was obvious that the war had taken its toll on her. There were bags beneath her eyes and cracks behind her smiling facade. Furthermore, where she once wore finery fitting for a goddess, now her robes were only a cut above a commoner’s.

When the last of the carts had been unloaded and the agreed upon supplies was taken away to her underground city, Havria turned to face him and bowed politely, “Thank you.”

Morax nodded, watching her go. He thought of the field of glaze lilies she had personally shown him, the hospitality she had treated a strange adeptus who had simply been wandering around. Words crept up his throat, but he could not voice a single one of them.

In the end, he walked away.

There were no contracts binding her to him besides the supply agreement, nor any deep familiarity between them. He has other gods to contend with, too, as well as his own people to care for, and he had never received any request for his protection from her either. And so, Morax turned a blind eye towards the Goddess of Salt.

He hoped she and her people would escape from the gruesome slaughter intact, but Morax knew that those who were gentle would not survive long in war.

In this era of god-eat-god, all that mattered was the survival of the fittest, not the means.

They returned to see Kliment and Wanyan arguing by the shore.

“...You call yourself a scholar of archaeology? You can’t even recognise this or that, what are you good for?”

“We all have our areas of expertise! I already tried very hard to explain!”

“Oh dear,” Venti quietly commented as Paimon questioned them on their argument, “We just left for a few minutes, and they’re already at each other’s throats. But I guess this is to be expected.”

Zhongli nodded. To be honest, he had been expecting something like this when he had paired them up. Her enmity towards the Geo Archon aside, Wanyan was the kind of person who respected Liyue’s history and traditions. Meanwhile, Kliment cared only for money and power, and sought the relics of the past to either line his pockets or advance his rank.

Naturally, it was inevitable for these two to butt heads against each other.

That was fine. This gave Zhongli the pretext he needed for another part of his plan.

They stopped arguing long enough for Zhongli to examine the items they brought. As he thought, most of these objects were worthless, revealing nothing particularly interesting. He wasn’t surprised; most people knew the historical value of Guyun Stone Forest and have already made many expeditions (both legal and illegal) here.

There was only one object of significance—the stone slab they found—but it was a small thing. He easily gave it to Kliment when asked.

When Paimon asked if an object only has value if there were traces of divine energy, Wanyan disagreed. Her beliefs in the worth of relics for its historical and cultural values clashed with Kliment’s, and the two argued again. Zhongli simply watched them do so quietly, only perking up slightly in interest when Kliment announced:

“Nonsense! I’m a professional archaeology researcher from Snezhnaya, I swear. If I’m lying, may the Lord of Geo strike me down!”

Venti raised a brow at Zhongli. Faintly, he heard the wind asked, “Are you going to take him up on that?”

Zhongli hid his chuckle, allowing only a sliver of amusement to show on his lips. He was used to mortals swearing oaths in his name without realising he was listening, often done in exaggeration or overestimation of their abilities. He had long stopped taking such things seriously.

As long as it didn’t involve contracts, of course. If one—be they mortal or divine—swore an oath before him, then the God of Contracts would make sure they see it through to the end—or else.

The two humans bickering continued until Kliment decided that they should head to Sal Terrae next. He saw Wanyan’s eyes gleamed with interest, the self-proclaimed archeologist easily agreeing to Kliment’s suggestion when, just a few moments ago, she argued vehemently against him. Zhongli hid a wry, tired smile.

To visit Havria’s lands again after all these years...

Quietly, Zhongli sighed, remembering the day he learnt of her passing.

When news of Havria’s death came, Morax was not surprised.

It was, unfortunately, only to be expected. Havria possessed neither the strength he has nor Guizhong’s wisdom, so it was bound to happen one day. Gentleness and kindness has its limits during war.

Still, even he was surprised by how she died.

“Your king betrayed your goddess?” Morax asked, sitting on a large stone in a wide-open clearing in his armour, shaded by a large tree. The representatives of Havria’s remaining people kneeled before him. The hood of his coat cast shadows over his amber eyes, “He was her lover, wasn’t he?”

The de-facto leader of their small group nodded, gulping nervously, “Y-yes... we thought it was mercy, Lord Morax. We could no longer bear seeing her mourn over her own weakness, so we thought... we thought...”

“Hmph,” Standing to his left next to Ganyu, Xiao scoffed, “Your people thought betrayal would be more merciful than defeat?”

“We didn’t have a choice!” The man protested, “We couldn’t bear watching her in agony over her own powerlessness, but we also saw naught but a dead end if this continues! We didn’t have a choice!”

Xiao opened his mouth to retort, but Morax raised a hand. Obediently, the Guardian Yaksha stopped, but his disapproving frown remained on his face.

Morax turned his gaze back onto the representative, who cowered before his golden gaze. Normally, those who betrayed a contract would face the Wrath of the Rock, and this was certainly a betrayal between Havria and her people. But the punishment had already been done, no? The proof of that laid in the fact that most of them had turned to salt statues deep in what was once their safe haven.

Morax sighed, “Very well then, you and your people may live in Liyue.”

Xiao spun to face him, a protest clear in his expression. He wasn’t the only one; the other adepti and human leaders of his realm also complained. Very few wanted to live with traitors, even if they might have good reasons for betrayal.

The only one who didn’t protest was Guizhong, who stood to his right and watched him calmly.

“Enough,” Morax’s voice was soft, yet strong, resounding across the clearing without him needing to shout. Everyone fell silent at the Lord of Geo’s command, “My will is clear, my decision is final. The remnants of Havria’s people will live with us from now on.”

There were grumblings among his people, but none dared to complain to the Lord of Geo. Once Morax had made a decision, it was to be carried out no matter what.

Later that night, Guizhong entered his small hut with a jar of wine and two cups.

As he watched his friend poured the wine into their cups, Morax asked, “Is it possible for kindness and gentleness to be found in these times?”

Guizhong set aside the jar and gazed thoughtfully into her cup, “Yes, I believe. But can they thrive? That’s another question entirely.”

“I think...that in times like these, those who are kind and gentle must learn to steel their hearts,” Guizhong continued, “For if they cannot, then they will find that they are unable to protect anything.”

She paused, looking at him. For a moment, sorrow flashed across her face, “Yet it is sad to see those who are gentle harden their hearts to stone. I believe that, no matter what, one must always remember what and why one fights.”

Why one fights, hmm?

Morax gazed at his wine. The answer should be clear—For Liyue, always.

And yet, what was it exactly that he fought so hard for?

Eventually, Morax raised his cup, “To Havria.”

“To Havria,” Guizhong echoed hollowly.

The clink of their cups echoed in the silent night like the toll of a bell.

Those who tries to protect everything ends up protecting nothing.

I know this. I know this. I know this.

And yet...

I cannot help but wonder. What if...? Maybe...?

I...

O’ Archaic Lord, what was it that you so desperately wanted to protect?

What was it behind you that you treasure so dearly that you would place your body in harm’s way to defend it? What was it in front of you that you sought for so desperately that you would cut down anyone in your path?

That which you sought to protect...

That which you longed to have...

Do you remember, O’ Archaic Lord?

The seal Zhongli and Guizhong had placed on Havria’s domain remained firm even to this day.

Night have fallen when they arrived at Sal Terrae. Now, they stood in front of the large, circular seal that he and his friend had erected thousands of years ago. Under the watchful eye of the moon, it glowed blue as it always did through the centuries, as solid as the day it was first created.

To think that he lived long enough to see the day it would be unsealed...

“I heard that Sal Terrae was once the home of the Goddess of Salt’s people,” Kliment chuckled, looking over the area with a smirk, “Therefore...there are sure to be loads of valuable relics nearby.”

“According to legend,” by which, Zhongli meant, what he saw with his own eyes, “the people of the Goddess of Salt, Havria, enjoyed prosperous lives under her protection.”

“But this legend has been around for ages,” he continued, “With the countless scrap collectors and Treasure Hoarders in the area, there probably aren’t many valuable things left here.”

Kliment complained when he heard that, looking ready to leave. However, Wanyan spoke up, “About that, I know there’s a ruin deep in this cave here. It’s related to the Goddess of Salt, which is actually how the area originally got its name of Sal Terrae.”

She looked down sadly at the seal, “However, the ruin entrance has been sealed by a mysterious power. Nobody has been able to break the seal.”

Lumine glanced at Zhongli when she heard that, to which the Geo Archon nodded discretely. Yes, he was responsible for the sealing of Havria’s domain, to allow the dead goddess to rest in peace. That said, he was sure that Havria wouldn’t mind if one of the descendants of her people came down to see what became of them.

“...I’m pretty sure the seal is meant to hide some kind of long-forgotten truth,” Wanyan stated, “The Goddess of Salt was a benevolent god adored by the people, not to mention powerful. She wouldn’t have any kind of shameful secrets to hide.”

“So... the one who wants to hide some truth is very possibly her killer, Morax.”

Next to him, Venti hummed. The wind whispered in his ear, “She’s very set on believing that you’re her enemy, and that Havria was your victim. Are you okay with that?”

Zhongli shrugged. He was used to be treated as an outsider by his own people, either because his powers set him apart or his personality drove them away. In his people’s eyes, he was their fierce protector and wise ruler, someone who stood so far above them that they might as well be separate.

As Venti had said, “Once someone gets an image in their head about what someone looked like, it’s hard to shake them out of it.”

Regardless, he still considered them all as one of his. So what if they might not consider him as one of theirs?

“If people can hurt others for no reason, then what reason do I need to help someone? It doesn’t matter that he’s not one of mine—I still want to help anyway.”

He has never wished for dominion, yet he couldn’t watch the common folk suffer. It didn’t matter that his people treated him differently; in awe or fear, love or hatred. If this was the price he had to pay for the power he needed to protect them, to uphold their contract, then Zhongli would gladly pay it.

In the end, Zhongli gave them the hints they needed to break the seal. When the blue glow of the seal faded away, the Archaic Lord closed his eyes, releasing a quiet breath, To think that I would live long enough to enter Havria’s domain again...

As the seal locking the ruins of the Goddess of Salt’s city disappeared, Zhongli heard Venti quietly hummed a tune, bringing back memories of a certain day amidst a field of glaze lilies.

One day, he heard a song on the wind.

Curious, Morax had followed the song into the fields, the tall grass brushing against his waist. The midday sun shone down on him, its heat a blistering summer’s glare. He couldn’t feel the plants nor the sun through his armour or hood though.

When he reached the edge of the field, he paused, looking at the scene before him in surprise.

Barbatos—Venti, as he preferred to be called—sat underneath a tree, singing to the birds and foxes. Glaze lilies bloomed all around him, their fragrance sweeter than he could remember in recent memory. It reminded him of the time he met the young god in Jueyun Karst, back when the Anemo Archon had first decided to travel all around Teyvat.

That felt like a lifetime ago, when in actuality only a few years had passed.

Beautiful.

Morax did not know if he was referring to the flowers, the song, or the bard himself.

Like back then, Morax only approached him after his song had ended. He crossed the field, mindful not to step on any of the glaze lilies. Like before, Venti beamed at his approach.

“Zhongli!” He exclaimed happily, as if his presence alone was enough to make the wind god happy, “It’s good to see you again! Come, sit.”

Venti patted the ground next to him. Morax couldn’t help but smile faintly as he sat down, “Venti, it’s good to see you too. What brings you to Liyue again? Is Mondstadt in trouble?”

“Nah, Mondstadt’s fine,” the Anemo Archon laughed brightly, “I just wanted to see you. I brought some wine from Mondstadt. Care for a taste?”

To forsake one's duty to deliver a single bottle of wine—what a preposterous notion! Yet it was all very fitting for one who embodied the wind.

“Very well then,” he took the offered bottle and opened it. They didn’t bring any cups, so Morax drank from the bottle.

When he was done, he passed it back to Venti, who drank the rest of it. Morax watched as the wind god’s lips touched the place where his had been. After Venti was done, the Anemo Archon wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and Morax looked away.

“Care for a song?” Venti asked, eyes bright and happy.

There were duties he must see to—papers to read through, the fields to observe and measure the harvest, scouts to meet who would inform him of enemy movements. Yet, all of that faded away when Venti smiled at him, sincere and eager.

“...Just one would do. I must return to my work afterwards.”

Venti nodded, fingers grazing over the strings of his lyre, “Alright then, one song, here we go!”

As his friend sang, Morax’s eyes slowly drooped. He leaned back against the tree. Just a little rest wouldn’t hurt...

Later that evening, Guizhong came by to pick Morax up. She had waved off his apologies for missing his duties, and instead said this:

“He’s good for you,” Guizhong stated, voice soft so as to not be overheard by Venti, who was trailing behind them and observing the night sky. His best friend smiled at him, “I’m glad for you.”

“Thank you?” Morax had said—no, asked. Confusion glinted in his gold gaze.

She chuckled, gently punching his arm, “Don’t worry. I’m sure that, one day, you’ll understand.”

“Before entering the ruin, I have a proposal that will help us prevent the kind of senseless arguing between you two that we saw at Guyun Stone Forest.”

Zhongli watched their reactions. Kliment scowled, clearly disagreeing with the idea, but Wanyan at least seemed willing to listen. Lumine looked thoughtful while Paimon stared at him with confusion, and, unseen by all of them except Zhongli, Venti sighed and narrowed his eyes at him.

“What are you planning here?” The wind questioned him. Venti knew him all too well.

Zhongli glanced at him, gaze inscrutable. He shrugged, tilting his head slightly; a seemingly careless gesture that said, Trust me.

Venti furrowed his brows slightly, but he nodded. The Anemo Archon has always trusted the Geo Archon.

To Kliment and Wanyan, the God of Contracts said this, “I propose you two agree upon a contract, stipulating that we alternate who gets claim to each treasure we encounter, with only one object permitted per claim.”

“To show my sincerity, I won’t be taking any treasure—this will be just between you all.”

“Then what do you get out of this?” The wind asked again. Once more, Zhongli shrugged slightly, staring at Venti for a brief moment before he looked back at the two mortals in front of him.

“I won’t take any either,” Lumine said against Paimon’s complaints. She gazed at him steadily. Zhongli smiled a little.

She was smart, this one.

“I won’t either,” Venti added, acting nonchalant. His viridian eyes though, were sharp when he looked at him.

“I don’t agree!” Kliment protested, “I mean... you want me to split the treasure with this amateur archaeologist? No, absolutely not!”

“I don’t agree either!” Wanyan exclaimed, crossing her arms, “Hmph, he will only defile the precious relics left behind by the Goddess of Salt! I-I can’t accept this.”

“Well then...” Zhongli placed his chin on his hand, “If the contract is not agreed upon, I will no longer serve as your consultant on this expedition. You will have to rely on your own experience to find whatever treasures are hidden in this ruin, as well as traps.”

Understanding flashed in his friend’s viridian eyes. The wind’s realisation was audible only to him, “I see... so you’re making this a three-way contract between you and these humans. But do they realise this?”

With his mouth covered by his hand, Zhongli replied to the wind, “It should be clear, no? Since I included myself into this contract. If they do not ask then... that is their fault for not listening or asking for the details.”

Venti stared at him, using the breeze to express his surprise, “Did you ever plan on allowing them to take Havria’s relics in the beginning? Or did you plan for them to fail from the start?”

Zhongli lowered his hand for just a moment to show him a smile.

“Y-You have the audacity to demand this...” Kliment stammered in disbelief, shaking his head, “Okay then. Even half of the treasure in the long-sealed ruin of the God of Salt should be enough to make a fortune.”

“If you want me to agree upon this contract, so be it...” Wanyan agreed, “I just have one request, Mr. Zhongli.”

Zhongli nodded, listening closely to her condition.

“If we discover the truth behind the Goddess of Salt, you must judge it fairly, even if the truth harms Morax’s image.”

Ah... this one truly does believe I am her enemy.

“I can accept this arrangement,” Zhongli agreed easily but seriously, “Well then, let’s go.”

He watched as Kliment descended first, followed closely by Wanyan. Lumine glanced at him, a question clear in her golden eyes. Paimon urged her to glide down quickly though, so she shrugged and seemed to dismiss whatever question she wanted to ask. She would find out everything later in the ruins anyway.

Now, there were only Zhongli and Venti.

“Did you make this contract knowing that they’ll break it?” Venti asked him directly, “That Fatui agent is greedy. He’ll take the first thing he sees and won’t be content with it. As for that woman... she doesn’t believe in you, Morax, at all and will take anything and everything that relates to Havria as ‘evidence’ that you killed her goddess when you’re actually innocent here.”

“I only make fair trades,” Zhongli replied, “And I always keep my word.”

“Yes, you will never make a deal that’s one-sidedly in your favour, but at the same time, you’ll never agree to something that doesn’t benefit you in some way,” Venti pointed out, “Zhongli, you’re someone who’s both incredibly selfish and incredibly selfless.”

That was a very acute understanding of him, as befitting of one who rose to the throne of the Seven and became one of his best friends. Zhongli chuckled, “Then what do you think is my end goal here?”

Venti crossed his arms, looking at the entrance to Havria’s domain thoughtfully. “The truth, I think, to set history right one more time,” the wind god eventually answered, “And to end an era with your own hands.”

He couldn’t help but smile, Ah, you really do know me well.

“There are legends where Rex Lapis would test a person’s integrity and wisdom by presenting them a seemingly impossible contract,” Zhongli murmured, stepping closer to the edge of the hole, “If they pass, they shall gain riches beyond their wildest dreams. Fail, however...”

He spun on a heel to face the Anemo Archon, one foot over the edge.

The God of Freedom finished for him, “...then they will face the Wrath of the Rock.”

The God of Contracts smiled and stepped back, plunging backwards into the depths.

The war had taken its toll on Morax’s people. One of the price it had exacted was music.

Yet where the God of Freedom walked, songs followed in the wind, carrying hope and the promise of a brighter tomorrow upon the breeze.

Morax’s people had eyed the foreign bard warily when he had first arrived, tired as they were from the constant wars. The wind god ignored their wary gaze however, and laughed merrily as he played kites with the children, even using his powers for something as trivial as lifting the kites higher. If he wasn’t playing kites with them, then Venti was poking his nose at the weavers or blacksmiths’ works, picking flowers to turn into crowns with the girls, or singing cheerful tunes for the farmers while they worked.

None of them knew Venti’s true nature as a god, but one by one, the free-spirited Anemo Archon charmed his people.

Any other god would have been concerned, but Morax knew that Venti meant no harm. This was simply his nature.

If anything, Morax was grateful to the wind god. The war had taken its toll on his people, and now he rarely saw a smile or heard a laugh. Yet, it seemed that happiness and a sense of peace followed the Anemo Archon’s wake.

One night, the wind god sneaked into his quarters, and placed a flower crown made out of silk flowers on his head from behind him.

Morax tensed and summoned his spear, whirling in place to fight the intruder, quietly grateful that he still wore his armour. The maps and pieces he had been using to plot out battlefields fell to the ground with his actions. When he saw that it was only a wide-eyed Venti, the war god sighed and dismissed his weapon, “What are you doing here, Venti?”

“I just wanted to invite you out!” The wind god exclaimed, hands raised to show he was of no threat, “They’re holding this big bonfire party outside. I think it’s to celebrate the harvest or something? Well, whatever it is, let’s go!”

Morax glanced at the maps and pieces that fell from his table and shook his head, “No, I can’t. I still have work to do.”

“You always have work to do,” Venti pouted, crossing his arms, “Just one night won’t hurt anyone. Guizhong is waiting for you too.”

He hesitated. If both of his friends were waiting for him, then shouldn’t he... But he still have plans to go through and a battlefield to prepare for. He couldn’t just—

Venti grabbed his hand and pulled.

“Come ooonnnn, let’s go already!” The Anemo Archon dragged him out of his house with strength he didn’t expect from the carefree god, “It’ll be fun!”

Morax stumbled, torn between ripping his hand away and returning to his work, or following Venti. In the end, he sighed, fixing the silk flower crown on his head, and resigned himself to trailing after the wind god.

Loud, cheerful music was the first thing he heard as they neared the square, followed by his people’s laughter. From the distance, he could see Guizhong sitting with both adepti and human commanders, cheeks flushed with wine as she laughed and poured a cup for Ganyu, who sat next to her bashfully. Despite himself, Morax couldn’t help but smile.

Such sight was a rarity in these times of war.

As he expected however, their merry laughter hushed to silence when they saw him.

Morax wanted to pull his hood up and cover his face. He knew how they saw him, as a protector who stood far above them and couldn’t understand their sentiments. Morax couldn’t dispute their assumptions, knowing that they were right.

Even still, he wanted...

“Come on!” Venti tugged his hand, seemingly ignoring the stares. He grinned widely, laughing happily as he used his Anemo powers to keep the music playing, “Let’s dance!”

He took both of Morax’s hands, pulling the earth god closer to him. Morax almost tripped, cheeks turning faintly red as the younger god guided him closer to the bonfire. This close, he could see the flames tinting the windborne bard’s cheeks red, the two gods spinning in circles around the fire.

Venti drew him closer, whispering to his ear, “Just focus on me.”

Ah, so the other did notice the stares. Cheeks still red, Morax nodded, brows furrowed as he tried to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally step on the other’s toes. Venti laughed at his serious expression, bright and gaiety.

It was easy to focus on the Anemo Archon. The bright flames casted warm hues on his cheeks and dark hair. His laughter was like a nightingale’s—charming and sweet. Morax easily found himself lost in the other’s viridian eyes, which glowed teal-bright with mirth.

Without knowing it, he found himself smiling.

As they continued spinning and dancing around the bonfire, the others around them slowly resumed their merriments. Some smiled, looking with wide-eyed wonder at their god, as if seeing him for the first time. To many of the humans here, this was the first time they saw their Lord smile.

Morax didn’t know it, but like this, he appeared almost... human.

There was a saying in the past:

“Tianheng in the south, Yaoguang in the east, Jueyun in the west, Qingce in the north—All desolate and devoid of life. Liyue is vast, yet even one haven is hard to find.”

A haven—a safe place for them to rest, to live, and to thrive. That was all they had wanted back then, wasn’t it?

This was why Zhongli had fought and killed. This was why Guizhong had plotted and crafted. This was why Havria had ran away.

The Goddess of Salt had searched all across the land for one safe haven. It was only to the north of Liyue, near Decarabian’s stormy realm, did she found the peace she sought after.

Yet war chased after her anyway. Again and again, Zhongli had stood by and watched as she conceded her lands over and over until only a small, underground city remained. Even that, however, was not enough.

Now, the doors to her ruined realm opened once more, revealing the ancient tragedy.

Another day, another battle.

Morax stumbled home with burn marks all over his armour. His usual hooded coat was burned, reduced to black tatters by the edges. His abdomen was pierced through by an enemy’s spear, blood still dripping down despite his adeptus healing rate.

Yet in front of his people, the Warrior God showed only an unbending back and a stoic facade.

It was only within the privacy of his small home did Morax finally allowed himself to grimace. He sat down carefully, frowning as he shrugged off his coat and warily took his armour off. Blood stuck on the Geo-infused armour, belonging to both him and his enemies.

He heard the door opened, and he tensed. But he didn’t need to worry, for it was only Guizhong. His best friend closed the door behind her, staring at him in concern.

Guizhong, too, suffered marks of war, though since she acted more like his second-in-command and strategist, she was more often found on the backlines providing support through her ballistas and strategies. This was in contrast to Morax, who could usually be found in the very center of the battlefields. They balanced each other out that way.

She approached him, helping him remove the straps of his armour, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he shrugged. There was something more important to ask than his health, “How many dead?”

She hesitated, “Morax...”

“How many?” The God of Liyue repeated, his stare firm and demanding. This was something Morax didn’t know, nor did he particularly wanted to know, but he needed to anyway.

Guizhong sighed, “Six thousand five hundred and thirty-eight.”

Six thousand five hundred and thirty-eight.

Morax closed his eyes. He thought he could hear something breaking. His fists clenched so tightly that rivulets of blood dripped onto the floor.

A hand gently touched his shoulder, “It’s not your fault. You did all that you could.”

He shook his head, though he didn’t shrugged away her touch. Morax was their god, but looked at how many have died on his watch. Hah, what kind of god am I...

If one tried to protect everything, then ultimately one would protect nothing. Morax knew this. He knew this, and yet...

He felt more than saw her drawing him closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder. This close, he could feel the faint tremors in her body, the wetness arcing over her cheeks when she pressed her face against his shoulder. He clung tightly to her, and she did the same. Together, they trembled and shook.

Who was supporting who in this case? Neither knew the answer nor cared.

It was easy to tilt his head slightly—her doing the same—and brushed their lips together with a sigh.

Long, long ago, they were lovers, but that passionate ardour has cooled down to a comfortable intimacy between friends and family. This kiss wasn’t one of romance, but a gesture that spoke: I am so glad that you’re still alive. You are not alone. I’m with you every step of the way

Something more than friends; something less than lovers—the nameless space between those two categories was what their relationship was.

They moved to the bed then, comforting each other with familiar intimacy and wiping away the other’s tears. Neither noticed the wind by the front door, who swiftly left once he realised what went on in private, leaving behind a crown of violetgrass.

The salt statues remained the same throughout all these millenniums.

“A-Are these...statues?” Wanyan asked, voice nary a whisper as they entered the Salt Goddess’ domain. Her gaze was wide in horror as she beheld her ancestors’ petrified, terrified state.

“No,” Zhongli sighed as he glanced at them forlornly, “These are people.”

The Liyuean gasped, hands rising to cover her mouth. Beside her, Kliment showed his disgust, fear starting to show in his eyes, “Ugh...”

“They were probably followers of the God of Salt,” the Lord of Geo explained. He noticed Venti staring at the salt statues in shock, his eyes flicking back and forth between him and the petrified humans.

Ah, he forgot that Venti had never seen Havria’s domain.

“How did they become this way...?” Kliment asked, his frown hiding an unsettling fear.

Wanyan murmured to herself, “What in the world is hidden deep in this ruin...?”

“The truth lies further within,” Zhongli walked ahead, “Come, this way.”

As they delved deeper into the ruins, he saw Venti rubbed his arms, the thousands of years old still air making the wind spirit uncomfortable, on top of the salt-frozen tragedy shown within. Without thinking, Zhongli stepped closer to the wind god, took off his coat, and draped it over his friend’s shoulders.

Venti blinked, before he smiled at him, drawing the coat closer to himself, “Thanks.”

Zhongli nodded, gazing straight ahead. He didn’t think much of his actions, too distracted by something else. Treading old grounds, seeing the results of his inaction, and talking about the past... Almost against his will, memories of bygone eras rose to the forefront of his mind.

The darkness that enveloped them reminded him of a certain night, long, long ago...

One night, Morax heard a child cry loudly in his village.

He was on patrol that night when he heard it, the cry loud enough to wake up some neighbours. The humans woke up tensed and prepared to fight or flee, but when they realised it was only a child crying because of a fever, they sighed and return back to their homes. Morax, however, lingered by the window.

He saw Venti entered the house, asking for the parents permission to sing the child to sleep. The parents, already at their wits end, gladly agreed to his help. And so, the disguised Anemo Archon sat by the child’s bedside, singing softly to him.

Morax leaned against the window, crossing his arms as he looked at the scene. This child was not one of his; he bore no relation to Mondstadt nor the Anemo Archon, yet Venti continued to sing for him anyway.

Why?

No matter how many songs he sang, the child’s cry would not stop. The fever seemed extremely painful for the young boy, and nothing the Anemo Archon did could help him, but Venti still tried to offer what comfort he could regardless. He sang and he sang and he sang, until Morax thought that his voice would give out.

Of course, Venti was a god, so that would never happen.

Intrigued, Morax slipped into the room. Venti was startled when he saw him, but quickly calmed down. The wind god flashed him a tired smile, “Zhongli! Didn’t see you there.”

He nodded in greeting, crossing the room to sit next to him, “I was in the area when I heard the child crying. Why are you here, Venti?”

“I’m trying to calm him down,” Venti laughed wryly, “But as you can see here, it’s not working.”

Morax glanced at the young boy, still crying and shaking in his restless sleep. Then, he looked at the God of Freedom, “While I appreciate your help, I cannot help but wonder why? He is not one of yours, Barbatos.”

Venti—Barbatos—blinked, before he smiled and said:

“If people can hurt others for no reason, then what reason do I need to help someone? It doesn’t matter that he’s not one of mine—I still want to help anyway.”

You want to help? Morax stared at him, the Anemo Archon’s smile reminiscent of a certain dead goddess’ smile, Not because of any contracts or trade or possible advantages, but simply because you want to?

That is...

Morax supposed that this was only fitting for the God of Freedom.

Barbatos sighed, drawing his attention back, “Ah, but no matter what song I sing, this one wouldn’t stop crying. Perhaps singing a Liyuean song would help? Alas, I know none.”

“I know a few,” Morax offered, “But it’s been a very long time since I last sang.”

His friend’s eyes lit up at the prospect of hearing the Lord of Geo sing, “Try it! Maybe it’ll help.”

Morax nodded, gazing back at the fever-ridden child. He thought of a melody from his bygone childhood, back before he became an adeptus; an ancient cradle song from a nameless village to the northeast.

“The moon is bright, the wind is quiet. The tree leaves hang over the window,” the Archaic Lord sang softly, “My little baby, go to sleep quickly... Sleep, dreaming sweet dreams....”

As he sang the archaic lullaby, he failed to notice the God of Freedom sitting straight with interest, completely enraptured by his song.

Kliment, as expected, claimed the first treasure they saw.

How shortsighted... but Zhongli wasn’t surprised. All of this was within his plans.

When they saw the second relic, the Fatui agent tried to claim it as his, breaking the contract in the progress. Even though he had accounted for this, Zhongli still did not take this kindly.

“So, you are saying you want to break the contract?” His voice remained calm, but if one knew him well, they would be able to hear the danger lurking beneath his deep voice.

“So what if I break it? Now that I’ve seen how the mechanisms in this ruin work, I no longer need you,” Kliment stated arrogantly, “Let’s not forget who hired who here. Why should I let you make the rules?”

“Because you agreed to a contract.”

As his and Kliment’s argument escalated, he noticed Venti carefully pulling the girls away. Clever. His old friend knew what was coming.

Crossing his arms, Zhongli gave him one final warning, “Rex Lapis once said: ‘Ones who break their contracts shall suffer the Wrath of the Rock.’.”

“That is one of your Liyue gods. I am from Snezhnaya, I—”

Amber eyes flashed gold.

“—Will suffer the Wrath of the Rock.”

What came next needed no description. The God of Contracts punished the contract-breaker, denying him of any claim to the treasures within the Goddess of Salt’s realm. Kliment was forced to leave empty-handed.

Wanyan looked shaken after his battle, and so did Lumine, but only a little in her case. Both of them appeared to be thinking of him a little differently, a tad more cautiously. Venti, however, regarded him with the same casual attitude as he always did.

It was reassuring to know that his old friend would never change.

Afterwards, seeing no need to prolong the deception, Zhongli confronted Wanyan, pointing out the inconsistencies in her story. Finally, she admitted the truth:

“You’re right. I’m not a scholar of archaeology. I come from one of the Eight Trades under the jurisdiction of the Qixing—Yinyuan Hall of the salt industry.”

“Our ancestors were those protected by the Goddess of Salt all those years ago, when the Archon War engulfed the land in chaos. During the war, Morax assassinated our god out of envy for her power! He left us alone and lost in the world...”

“We... we hate him! But this is Morax’s Liyue, after all, and its history is written as he wishes...”

Zhongli closed his eyes briefly, quietly accepting her hatred. Next to him, Venti gently brushed his hand against his. A light, fresh breeze caressed his cheeks in a gesture of support.

He remembered that clearing long, long ago, where he accepted Wanyan’s ancestors and allowed them to live in Liyue against the wishes of his subjects. How did history became so warped like this?

“So I seek proof of Morax’s guilt!” Wanyan exclaimed, fiery determination in her eyes, “He has blood on his hands and cruelty in his heart!”

Once more, Zhongli remained silent. He knew himself well enough. There was nothing he could say against that.

“...Are you so sure about that?” Venti spoke up. When he opened his eyes, he saw that his friend’s usual smile was gone from his face, “Rex Lapis... I know that he’s not perfect, but I do not believe he is a villain like you make him out to be.”

She shook her head, unwilling to change her perception of Morax, “It doesn’t matter! We agreed to a contract that we will face the truth head-on, didn’t we, Mr. Zhongli!? You must judge this history fairly!”

“Naturally, of course,” Zhongli agreed, “But I must add, Liyue is no longer Morax’s Liyue.”

No, it was already changing. Slowly, but surely, his Liyue was growing and evolving without him.

The God of Contracts turned, heading deeper within.

“Come with me. All the answers you seek lie ahead.”

He considered them all as one of his, but would they, in the age to come, consider him as one of theirs?

It didn’t matter. If people can hurt others for no reason, then what reason did he need to help someone? He has never wished for dominion, yet he couldn’t watch the common folk suffer. This was why that first contract between himself and Liyue was made, after all.

Long, long ago, on the day they learnt of Havria’s passing, Guizhong had told him this: “I believe that, no matter what, one must always remember what and why one fights.”

The answer was as clear then as it was clear now—For Liyue, always.

As for that which he sought to protect...

That which he longed to have...

In the end, Zhongli was now free to do as he wished.

They proceeded deeper into the ruins.

The third relic they found was a sword that was broken into two pieces. Wanyan, who had revealed herself as a devotee to the long-dead Salt Goddess, wanted to take both halves as ‘proof’ of Zhongli’s—Morax’s—crimes against the Goddess of Salt. That, however, went against the contract she had agreed upon with him.

“Two pieces of a broken sword,” Zhongli pointed out to Wanyan, “From an archaeological perspective, these are two separate relics. According to the contract, you can only claim one.”

The wind sighed against his ears; the question it posed was a rhetorical one, “You knew from the beginning that this sword was broken into two, didn’t you?”

“Wh-Why?” Wanyan protested, “We were alternating claims to the treasures, true, but Kliment is no longer here...”

Zhongli nodded, “Yes, but the ‘only one object per claim’ clause still holds true. You cannot take two relics at the same time.”

To the Traveller and Paimon, the wind murmured, “This is why you should always be careful when making deals with Morax. He is always fair and just, but you’ll still shoot yourself in the foot if you don’t ask for details or cover the loopholes.”

Hearing this, Zhongli almost wanted to laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. As if Venti had ever really asked for clarifications when making deals with him. The Anemo Archon trusted the Geo Archon way too much.

Not that I can complain about that though...

Wanyan—not able to hear anything Venti whispered to their ears—gasped, “Th-This logic...”

Paimon tried to speak for her, “Erm... Zhongli, she seems like a good person, and no one is fighting over the treasure. How about you let this one slide, huh?”

Venti quietly shook his head. Zhongli answered, “When there’s a contract, nothing can be allowed to ‘slide’. If the contract is not followed, then it is broken.”

Havria’s devotee, however, refused to accept this.

“No matter what, I must be faithful to her,” Wanyan stated, determined, “Even if it breaks the contract, I don’t care.”

“So you have already decided? Hmm... Then there is a price to pay for breaking the contract,” Zhongli crossed his arms, giving her one final warning, “That is to say, you consign yourself to suffer the Wrath of the Rock.”

“That... That’s okay. The Goddess of Salt gave up her life to protect her people,” She stood proudly with her faith bright in her eyes. How sad it would be to crush such pure belief... “My sacrifice is nothing compared to that.”

Oh child, growing up, what stories did they tell you?

“Punish me however you want. Just let me take this proof of my faith!”

Little one, I’m sorry to say, but your faith has been misguided from the very beginning...

Physical punishment would be easier for her than what he was about to do next. Perhaps she would rather have death as well. Alas, Morax was merciless towards those who broke contracts, no matter the reason.

“As punishment, I will tell you the truth.”

This was one of his plans—to reveal the truth of the past and once more set history in stone. Still, even though he knew that everything led to this, Zhongli couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Perhaps there were some truth to the rumours that the Geo Archon possessed a heart of stone.

“I’m afraid to say that the Goddess of Salt, Havria, was not the powerful god you imagine her to be,” Zhongli revealed, “Rather, she was a small and weak god who yielded to all other gods. When it came to war, she lost... never able to win a seat among the Seven.”

“During the Archon War, the gods of this world used all their strength and cunning to vie for control of Teyvat. But Havria instead chose to flee. She thought that by giving up before a fight could start, she could save herself and her people from the war.”

Others—both humans and gods—have criticised her for that, but he couldn’t really fault her. She possessed neither his strength nor Guizhong’s wisdom, so running was all that she could do. In that era of god-eat-god, all that mattered was the survival of the fittest, not the means.

“However, during such a long war, there is no end to the advances of aggressors. After making countless concessions, Havria had lost all of her lands until only one small haven remained.”

But even then, that was not enough, was it? It was difficult for kindness and gentleness to thrive in those times.

“In her last days, she had not even a single blade to defend her people with.”

“This sword is not a relic belonging to the Goddess of Salt... but is instead the murder weapon used to kill her.”

As expected, Wanyan did not take the truth kindly.

No matter. The truth laid within this ruin, as clear as the salt statues of her ancestors. As she fled deeper into Havria’s desolate city, Zhongli had no doubt that she would see the truth for herself.

No matter what stories those around her told her as she grew up, there could be no denying the true history behind this ancient tragedy.

Briefly, he wondered if she would change her perception of him and Havria once she knew the truth. Once someone have an image in their head about what someone looked like, it was hard to shake them out of it. That doesn’t mean, however, that it couldn’t be done.

They caught up with her before the grand doors to what was once Havria’s throne room. The Salt Goddesss’ devotee stared at the statues in shock, seeing for herself how they tried to flee in fear or vainly prayed to their goddess for forgiveness. He could hear her questioning herself, eyes wide with horror and doubt:

“What are all these? What did they see... What did they do? What... what happened?”

Betrayal, Zhongli quietly answered her, and the unintentional wrath they provoked as a result.

Havria was not like him, who was rigid and unbending when it came to contracts. Yet still, those who betrayed the gods rarely escaped unscathed... even if it was against one as gentle and peaceful as her.

“Since you do not trust me, let us continue onward,” the God of Contracts said, opening the doors which had been sealed by his own hands for over two millennia, “That which lies beyond this door will show you all that happened back then.”

What they saw when the doors slid open... was desolation.

This was ground zero—the epicentre of the betrayal that Havria faced. Once, Zhongli remembered, it was a brightly decorated and beautiful room filled with flowers, fitting for a goddess like her to tend to her people’s needs. Now, no matter what was once here, naught remained but a single flower of salt.

“This is the scene of the crime,” the Archaic Lord quietly explained from behind a shocked Wanyan, “Havria’s body dissipated, leaving nothing but these traces of salt. Her dying moments have since been frozen in time to this very day.”

This was the scene he and Guizhong saw when they first entered here after the goddess’ passing. Even now, after all these thousands of years, the sorrowful stillness they were met with had left a lasting impression on his mind.

“The story continues that some among her people realised at last that this gentle, kind but weak god could never protect anyone in wartime.”

He couldn’t blame Havria for running away, nor could he blame her people for doing what they thought was right. In that era of god-eat-god, all that mattered was the survival of the fittest, not the means. Unfortunately, kindness and gentleness by itself was not enough to protect anyone in times of war.

“The Archon War was cruel in the extreme. Instead of consigning her to the agony of defeat, they thought, perhaps it would be better to give her a quick release...”

And look what became of that...

“No matter how weak the god, the power that flows forth when they are slain is beyond the strength of mortal coils to bear. Those who could not flee were thus transformed.”

It was not by his hand, but regardless, Havria’s followers faced the Wrath of the Rock.

“Those of her people who were untouched by this disaster left for Liyue, where they sought refuge with Rex Lapis,” the God of Contracts explained further, “Their descendants feared Havria’s remnants and lived in terror that she had laid upon them an eternal curse. So they risked their lives to come here to break the sword, and offer up obeisances in hopes that her anger might be appeased.”

He remembered how they had came to him—a few months after that meeting in the clearing—begging him to protect them as they returned to what was once their safe haven one last time. After Havria’s people had done what they needed to do, he and Guizhong had sealed this ruins, to allow the Goddess of Salt to rest in peace.

“But they need not have done so. For how could a god who had never once resisted—even till the end—nurse hatred for her people in her heart?”

It did not matter to Havria that her people might not have consider her as one of theirs. She had loved them regardless till her dying day. Zhongli knew that, no matter what—even after this betrayal—the goddess would have given her blessings instead and allowed her people to live with his, all the while praying for the best.

“I—I... Even if this is so, I can’t...” Wanyan shook her head rapidly, eyes wide, “This must be a lie... a false history... all of it!”

Do not avert your eyes from the truth, little one. To see the true history and judge it fairly... Is this not part of our contract?

She ran away, like Havria once did. However, he knew that the truth would catch up to her one day, just like the war had with Havria. The Geo Archon could not fault them for running away, but nonetheless, there were things one must confront in life.

What would Wanyan thought of him then? What would she thought of Havria? What stories would she pass on to her children and her children’s children? The truth... or the lies she grew up with?

How would history record his legacy?

After Wanyan had left, Paimon asked them a question:

“Hmm... If the gentle gods like Havria couldn’t survive in the Archon War, then how did Venti survive and became the Anemo Archon? He’s not really much of a fighter...”

“Hey!” Venti pouted, before chuckling, “Well, I guess it is true. To be honest, I didn’t expect I would survive this long either. There’s three reasons why I managed to live through the Archon War.”

“The first reason was because of Decarabian, the god before me. He was a tyrant who thought that his people enjoyed the stormy prison he had made. Although his thoughtlessness was cruel, the storm walls he had created did kept a majority of the other gods out of Mondstadt for most of the Archon War... at least until I took his place.”

“The second reason was the location. Now, Mondstadt is known throughout all of Teyvat for her rolling green hills and wine, but back then it was nothing more than a frozen, mountainous wasteland. Nobody wanted to live—much less rule—there until I terraformed the land.”

“As for the last reason.... just take a look at the map of Teyvat,” Venti revealed, laughing softly, “To go to Mondstadt, you must go through land or sea. Either way, you would need to cross Liyue first.”

The Anemo Archon turned to the Geo Archon, a grateful smile on his lips.

“In other words, the third reason why I managed to live through the Archon War... was because of him.”

One day, a foreign god crossed over Morax’s realm.

Lightning wreathed his form, but the god was careful not to strike any of Morax’s people. Instead, he crossed the land calmly, almost unnoticed if it weren’t for the fact that Morax knew everything that occurred in his lands. It was by the edge of the border between Mondstadt and Liyue that the two gods met.

“Hello, Lord Morax!” The lightning god greeted, his tone friendly, “What brings you all the way here?”

Morax’s gaze was inscrutable, “What brings you here?”

“I have no dispute against you, Lord of Geo,” the other god answered, “In fact, the only one I wish to fight is the new Anemo Archon, Barbatos.”

The dragon god narrowed his eyes, “Why?”

The smirk he got in return was sharp, “No particular reason. I simply heard that he’s the newest to take one of those divine thrones. I wish to test him.”

“Let me pass in peace, Rex Lapis,” the lightning god spoke, “I bear no ill intentions to you and yours. This does not involve you in any way.”

That was true. There was no formal contract between himself and Barbatos. They were merely two people who happened to cross paths. Yet after all else passed, Morax would still remember the scene of their first meeting.

(A sun-bright smile, an offered picnic basket filled with wine and simple food, a question that shaped their lives forevermore: “Would you like to be friends?”)

He closed his eyes. Unbidden, memories of Havria appeared before him.

That first meeting, where she guided a strange adeptus across her lands and showed him the field of glaze lilies that later became so important in his life. Their second meeting; her weary smile as she signed away her lands. And the last—a gentle smile that accompanied a polite bow and a sincere, “Thank you.”

(For what? He did nothing more than expected of him from their contract.)

Just as swiftly as it came, memories of the Anemo Archon replaced her. The wind god singing amidst the field of glaze lilies, granting him a rare reprieve from the war. The warmth of his hands against Morax’s as he pulled him into a dance around a bonfire; the Warrior God’s hair adorned with a flower crown woven by the younger god’s hands. The image of him singing to a crying child from another country, not out of a sense of duty or responsibility, but simply because he wanted to.

“If people can hurt others for no reason, then what reason do I need to help someone? It doesn’t matter that he’s not one of mine—I still want to help anyway.”

Morax could walk away—close his eyes and pretend he didn’t know the consequences of his choice. There were no formal contracts binding him to the Anemo Archon, nor any duty or responsibility. He has other gods to contend with, too, as well as his own people to care for, and he had never received any request for his protection from the Anemo Archon either.

He could turn a blind eye towards this. If one tried to protect everything, then ultimately one would protect nothing. Morax knew this.

In this era of god-eat-god, all that mattered was the survival of the fittest, not the means.

Morax opened his eyes.

“No.”

What was it behind him that he treasured so dearly that he would place his body in harm’s way to defend it? What was it in front of him that he sought for so desperately that he would cut down anyone in his path?

That which he sought to protect...

That which he longed to have...

When the Archaic Lord heard the God of Freedom’s song, he remembered all the reasons why.

The battle between Morax and the lightning god reshaped the border between Mondstadt and Liyue.

The lightning god charged at him with a pair of electric blades. Steel collided against his jade shield, purple and gold sparks flying everywhere at the point of contact. Morax summoned a stone spear from beneath him, but the other god swiftly leapt back, dodging it.

His foe jumped far back to the distance, summoning lightning into his hands to throw as javelins. Morax countered by creating a pair of mountain-sized stone spear next to him, blocking the lightning javelins, before he kicked one at its base. With a crack that resounded like an earthquake, a stone spear collapsed forward onto the Lord of Geo’s waiting palm.

With a small grunt, Morax threw the gigantic spear with one hand at the other gods. It tore through the distance between them like a dart, its speed belying its great weight. In return, the lightning god brought his blades down, neatly cleaving the gigantic stone spear in two.

The two halves collapsed next to the god with a loud thud, but before the dust could settle, Morax was already upon him, spear slashing down on the Electro deity.

BOOM!

The lightning god blocked his spear with his swords, feet digging deep into the earth and teeth gritted tightly in exertion. Electro and Geo energies crashed onto each other at their collision, auras of purple and gold warring for dominance. The very heavens above split at their clash, while the earth cracked beneath their feet.

With a burst of lightning, Morax was forced to draw back. His opponent pressed his advantage, slashing away at his shield with lightning quick strikes. The power behind each rapid blow was enough to pulverise a rock many times over, but his jade shield remained strong.

Until—with one strong heave—the lightning god cut his shield in two.

“Hah!” The Electro deity quickly followed up his attack with another, bringing down his left sword in a diagonal slash. Morax quickly raised his spear to block it, but that was a mistake.

Lightning sparked over the god’s right blade as it lopped off Morax’s arm.

His spear dropped unceremoniously to the ground, disappearing in flurries of gold. The Warrior God drew back, jumping back quickly to dodge another blow. The lightning god smirked at him, but Morax simply gazed back calmly.

“Got you,” he said cockily, pointing his sword at him arrogantly, as if this was the first time the Lord of Geo had lost a limb.

Morax didn’t bother replying. The moment he saw his chance, he ordered the earth to chain the other god’s feet. The lightning god shouted, electricity sparking in a vain effort to destroy the chains, but it held firm. He tried to escape by turning to electricity, but the Geo energy infused in those chains forced him to remain solid, crystallising his purple Electro aura.

Before the god could say another word, Morax summoned his spear again, and lunged.

His spear ran through the lightning god’s chest cleanly. Wide eyes stared at him, unable to comprehend his loss. It was with this expression of shock and confusion that the other god exploded.

BOOM!

Lightning burst from the dead deity’s body, scorching the land and leaving fierce burn marks on his armour. The burst cracked the base of the second massive stone spear that Morax had created, sending it toppling over the earth god and his dead opponent. However, another Electro explosion blasted from the lightning god’s body, lightning arcing towards the sky and cutting through the falling stone spear.

With another boom, the two halves of the stone spears fell on either side of Morax, creating a narrow valley around the area where the lightning god fell.

In the ages to come, this place would later be known as the Stone Gates.

Dust fell on the earth god’s form as he slowly pulled back his spear. The lightning god’s body was no more, destroyed along with the explosion. Soot and short burst of static lingered on Morax’s cheeks as he gazed upwards towards the distant heavens.

With his spear, another spark of divinity have departed from Liyue.

Faintly, he heard the rustle of feathers. Morax turned, once more prepared to fight, but he saw only Barbatos in his divine form landing amidst the rubbles. The Anemo Archon gaped at him, viridian eyes wide.

“Morax...” Barbatos breathed, shock clear on his face as he took in the scene in front of him. His teal-bright eyes lingered on the blood that still flowed freely from the earth god’s chopped off arm, “Wha-what happened here? Why are you here?”

Amber eyes regarded him coolly.

“Nothing happened here,” Morax answered, “I was just passing through.”

Afterwards, Zhongli and Venti left the Traveller and her companion to explore the ruins freely, with a promise to later meet up at Guyun Stone Forest. In particular, he asked Lumine to bring the salt chalice and salt ruler with her too. The outlander who had borne witness to his history had nodded, agreeing to his request.

As they left, the Anemo Archon asked the Geo Archon a question:

“Tell me something. If I ever broke a contract with you, then what would be my punishment?”

Zhongli looked at him. The usual smile on Venti’s face was gone, replaced with a rare look of seriousness. After a moment, the God of Contracts answered.

“Kliment desired treasures, and so I denied him of that. Wanyan cherished her faith in her god, and so I broke that,” Uncharacteristically, he hesitated. It was only because of the God of Freedom’s firm gaze did he finally relented and concluded, “...You value your freedom above all else, so if you were to break a contract with me... then I will make you my slave.”

Even he winced at his own statement. Sometimes, he disliked his own blunt and unbending nature. Zhongli knew how important freedom was to the wind god, and hoped that such a day would never occur.

Instead of looking shocked or affronted as he expected though, Venti nodded.

“I expect as much,” the God of Freedom replied, a smile curving his lips, “Well, guess that means I must be careful when making deals with you!”

He sighed in relief, before shaking his head, “You should always be cautious before agreeing to anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his friend laughed, bumping his shoulder against his, “That’s what I have you for, silly.”

Zhongli couldn’t help but smile. Even though Venti knew of his true nature, even after he bore witness to the consequences of his choices and actions (or inaction), he would always trust and believe in him.

Just as he would always protect the wind, the wind would always be there to support him.

“‘Nothing happened’? ‘I was just passing through’?” Barbatos exclaimed, “As if I can believe that!”

He rushed towards the earth god, fingers hovering over Morax’s wounds. With a glance towards his dismembered limb, the Anemo Archon continued, “Look at you! Your arm’s chopped off, for Celestia’s sake! You’re covered with soot and electric sparks, your armour’s ruined, and look at your surroundings! Don’t try to tell me nothing happened here!”

“It was just a passing god wanting to cause trouble,” Morax sighed, shrugging. Amber eyes glanced at his arm, before dismissing the injury. His adeptus abilities were already healing him and stopping the blood loss. This was far from the first time he had lost a limb in battle too; he would regrow it in time. It would just be a little inconvenient in the meanwhile.

Viridian eyes narrowed at him, “‘Just’ that? Morax, this is far from your lands. The only god he would be causing trouble to is—”

Barbatos froze as realisation shook him. Gaping, the God of Freedom asked, “Did... did you do this for me?”

Morax looked away, “I simply wanted to do this.”

His friend gazed at him in shock, mouth wide open and eyes large. Slowly, the Anemo Archon tried to speak, but he would close his mouth before a word could come out. Finally, the wind god decided to discard words altogether to hug him.

Morax froze under the embrace.

He could feel the younger god’s body shaking, sniffles arising from where Barbatos buried his face against his chest. Tentatively, Morax returned the embrace with his remaining hand, unused to such gestures. Barbatos clung to him harder.

“Thank you,” he heard the wind god rasped out. Barbatos pulled back just enough for him to see his tearstained, smiling face, “Really, I—Thank you, Morax. You... you really are as kind and gentle as I thought you were.”

Kind? Gentle? Me?

There was only one other person before now that would say such things about him.

(“Why do you want to ally yourself with me?”

“It’s because I know that, deep down, you are a kind, gentle person.”)

A faint smile cracked upon his lips. Morax drew him closer and sincerely replied, “There is no need to thank me.”

What was it behind him that he treasured so dearly that he would place his body in harm’s way to defend it? What was it in front of him that he sought for so desperately that he would cut down anyone in his path?

That which he sought to protect...

That which he longed to have...

All of it was embodied in the person in his arms.

The night air on the peaks of Guyun Stone Forest was crisp and clear, so unlike the stormy seas Zhongli remembered in bygone times.

Venti seemed to agree, as beside him the wind god had brought out his lyre, humming a tune under his breath and absently playing the strings. After suffering the still, underground air for so long, Zhongli guessed that the windborne bard felt relieved to finally be out in the open again. He, too, was quietly glad to get away from that site of ancient tragedy.

As he relaxed his shoulders and breathed in the refreshing night air, Venti broke the tranquil silence between them.

“Thank you, you know,” the Anemo Archon looked at him, that gentle smile of his o’ so familiar, “I... I really do owe you a lot, huh? That time you defeated that god for me... allowing me to forge your seal to trick the aristocracy a thousand years ago, and then looking away as I asked... and there was also that time you prevented war from breaking out between Mondstadt and Liyue. Even going so far as to replace a whole generation of Qixing in the progress.”

Oh, that. Zhongli chuckled, “It was nothing.”

Venti shook his head, staring at him insistently, “It’s not nothing. Zhongli—Morax—you should know how much all this means to me! You, who live your life abiding to the rule of equivalent exchange. You gave so much to me—protection, peace, and even the repaired Holy Lyre—yet I haven’t given you anything back!”

The God of Contracts blinked, surprised.

“But you have repaid me many times over.”

Their first meeting—a gift of wine and food, followed by an offer of friendship.

A field of blooming glaze lilies—that rare moment of peace that he felt whenever he heard the wind god sang among them, now forever engraved in his memory.

Trust and acceptance of who he was—never averting his gaze from the truth, even when the Geo Archon showed all the ugly sides of his character to him.

The God of Freedom had given countless things over the course of their friendship: joy and hope for his people in times of war; a flower crown and a dance around a bonfire, giving him a chance to set aside his duties for once; carefree wisdom which he dropped like pearls, not knowing the value of such things to Zhongli.

And recently...

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be strong anymore.”

The words which he had yearned to hear after all this time, after all his years of diligence and dedication.

“Then rest, O’ Archaic Lord,” Zhongli remembered the God of Freedom’s blessing—his best friend’s blessing—as he slowly fell asleep to the melody of an ancient lullaby, “You are free.”

How could he ever repay him for that?

Kind must be returned with kind; thus was the rule of reciprocity that Morax—Zhongli—lived by. He owed Venti so much already, that this was the least he could do for him. Could he not understand that Zhongli owed him just as much as Venti believed he owed him?

How could he make Venti understand that?

He gestured with an arm towards Liyue Harbour in the distance, the port still glowing bright even this late at night. From this far away, the lights that shone from the harbour-city was but a pale imitation to the constellations above them, yet Zhongli believed that one day, it would outshone even the stars above. And he knew who he has to thank for that...

“Look at Liyue, Venti, Barbatos,” Zhongli urged, “See how it shines so brightly in the dark, beneath the jade moon and above the Sea of Clouds. This did not happen only because of me.”

“Countless people have worked together to make Liyue the prosperous nation it now is. Humans, adepti, and even gods,” Amber eyes gazed at viridian, hoping to instil his sincerity and seriousness, “You, too, have played an important role in Liyue’s history.”

“Do you remember our first meeting? You gave me a picnic basket filled with wine and some food, as well as an offer of friendship. Do you know how many had came to me bearing such gifts over the milleniums? Only one, and you know her well.”

“Do you remember the field of glaze lilies that once bloomed on what is now known as Dihua Marsh? In times of war, such gentle flowers would not be able to bloom amidst the strife, yet your songs coaxed them out anyway, and gave me a rare reprieve from the daily slaughter.”

“Do you remember visiting my lands during the war? The people then had grown accustomed to death and loss, and could no longer sang songs of hope. Yet your presence allowed music to come back to the village anyway, and once more they could dream of peace.”

“Do you remember crowning my—the Warrior God—head with flowers and dragging me to a bonfire party? I remember how my people stared at me then, and how I wanted nothing more than to return to my battle maps so that they can enjoy themselves without me, but you pulled me close and told me to focus on you. Somehow, I was able to be a part of that which I normally couldn’t.”

“Do you remember the little boy, crying all night because of a fever? You sang to him all night even though he wasn’t one of yours. When I asked why, you told me: ‘If people can hurt others for no reason, then what reason do I need to help someone? It doesn’t matter that he’s not one of mine—I still want to help anyway.’.”

“There are so, so many more examples I can name; so many moments that I remember. So don’t tell me that you’ve never done anything for me, because you have done so much already!”

Venti stared at him wide-eyed as he finished his speech, mouth agape. The faintest hint of red graced his cheeks.

“I... I remember some of that, but I didn’t think it would mean much to you or anyone...” His best friend stammered, “It’s just... it’s just something I do, you know? I never intended it to be so important.”

Zhongli laughed. Of course, Venti would think nothing of it.

“If you believe that you owe me much, then I, too, owe you just as much,” the God of Contracts smiled wryly, “Between us, perhaps we should not count debts.”

“I... Yeah, I guess...” Venti smiled brightly, clutching his lyre to his chest, “If you think that we owe each other nothing... then I guess we don’t, huh?”

Zhongli chuckled, “Yes, we don’t.”

As far as he—the God of Contracts and Lord of Geo—was concerned, they were equals.

Near the break of dawn, the Traveller arrived with her fairy companion, carrying with her Havria’s relics.

Briefly, Zhongli wondered how she could travel so fast. Sal Terrae and Guyun Stone Forest was separated by vast amount of land and sea, yet Lumine always seemed to be able to traverse easily and swiftly, as if she was able to teleport to wherever she needed to be. Perhaps he should ask her one day.

For now though, he has a different matter in his mind.

“Now, I mentioned before that many gods of old have been sealed beneath Guyun Stone Forest,” Zhongli told her, “The adepti have presently handed Liyue over to mortals, and Havria’s time was even further in the past. The salt chalice and salt ruler that she left behind should not return to Liyue.”

That—along with one other thing—was the goal of his plan.

“To leave them here is to let them slumber, and it is also a homecoming...”

Lumine nodded, gazing at him with knowledge that should only be privy to immortals, “So, what would you like us to do?”

“I ended an era with my own two hands. I have always wondered how I should... remember that which I ended,” Zhongli placed his chin on hand, frowning in thought, “History records, but history may be changed. This incident proved that. Time is a mighty force, and histories twist in its flow...”

He sighed, “I need to find a better way of recording history in order to engrave its truth. Stone carvings were one such ancient method. But unchanging stone, immovable earth, even one such as myself... Someday, we may all disappear.”

That was inevitable. All things changed in time. Even mountains would crumble beneath the weight of time.

Was he not proof of that himself?

“Therefore, I thought of you, Traveller,” Zhongli gestured to her, “You are one who crosses the celestial atlas, and who passes through countless worlds. If our history is engraved in your memory, it will one day accompany you into another world.”

This was the second and final goal of his plan—to ensure that the truth of the past would be remembered and passed on.

“As long as a Traveller like you is able to record what happened, then a backup of sorts will exist for times and tides of Teyvat.”

Now, it was time to consign both the salt chalice and salt ruler to the sea.

“Thousands of years ago, the adepti and I fought against the turmoil that plagued every corner of this land.”

Zhongli gazed at the ocean that surrounded the stone forest, his arms crossed as memories rose to the forefront of his mind. The wind brushed against his cheeks, the night breeze cool and refreshing. He glanced beside him, and saw Venti standing there, smiling and supporting him like he always did.

“Guyun Stone Forest, where I sealed many gods with my spears...”

Long, long ago, this was the place where he had sent many gods to their graves. How many gods had he killed back then? How many have died in the process?

Even now, Zhongli didn’t know. He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

“After so long, naught but folktales remain.”

Lumine brought the salt chalice and salt ruler forward, carrying the ancient relics in her arms as she gazed at what was once an ancient battleground with awe. He watched her took in the majesty of their surroundings—this celestial Traveller whom he had entrusted their history to.

“Osial... You and I were foes, but our ancient grudge is but a bygone memory now.”

One of the gods who had succumbed to this watery prison was Osial, who had recently resurfaced because of his plots. Even though the Overlord of the Vortex had threaten to drown Liyue once more, the Archaic Lord couldn’t find the spark of hatred he used to bear towards the other god.

Indeed, he could no longer find it in him to hate anyone from that distant age.

“May that which Havria has left behind be yours to subsume.”

He turned to the Traveller, aura glowing visibly gold. With a simple command of his power, he gently lifted the relics of that bygone era and threw them into the sea.

“Thus, another spark of divinity departs from Liyue.”

Far on the horizon, dawn broke.

“My legacy shall now be left to those who come after to debate.”

History has already been written; to be studied, changed, and interpreted by those who comes after. The earth stands in the transitionary period between past and present, while the wind blows ever onwards towards an unknown future.

To cleanse the land and defend our safe harbour... that was the first contract in Liyue.

It comes with a heavy duty, one which I am now glad to have laid to rest. I have done all that I can for Liyue, and though I will never regret making that contract, there are things which I wish could have happen differently. Yet the past is immutable and those who have passed shall remain so. If there is any regrets, any bygone wishes, I shall now entrust it to the wind to carry it where it may.

This is now the age of humans. All that I wished for back then was a future without the pain of savage slaughter. A future without lives lived in vain, and a future where every day is filled with peace...

Am I now standing on the brink of such future?

To cleanse the land and defend our safe harbour... that was the first contract in Liyue.

And now, the final contract, too, has been set in stone.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE

Alternative Chapter Title: Zhongli’s Story Quest - Expanded Edition.

The first part is basically made up from what Zhongli said in his Character Demo. The phrase “When the Heavens move, the whole Earth trembles” is actually a translation of what he says when using his ult in the Chinese dub (天动万象), which in English is localised to “I will have order!”.

The ‘Heavens’ here does not necessarily mean the sky, but rather ‘universal laws’ or perhaps a powerful authority figure, and the ‘whole Earth’ part doesn’t necessarily mean the planet/ground itself, but ‘everything in existence’. So another way to translate it “The laws of the universe affect everything and all phenomena”, “Heaven dictates all of creation”, “Reality moves as Heavens dictates”, etc...

I think that the reason that line becomes “I will have order!” is because (1) the literal translation is too long for a quick catchphrase in English, (2) the ‘Heavens’ in Chinese can refer to people of authority, such as emperors or gods, and well, Zhongli basically was the Emperor/God of Liyue until he decided to ‘retire’ and (3) the localisation team may have thought that the English-speaking players won’t understand the references/context, so they have to adapt it. So perhaps that’s why Zhongli’s English line when he does his ult in the character demo becomes “I will have order!”.

Technically, that line (and the delivery of it) shows Zhongli as a powerful god who can affect the world greatly and gives a sense of awe and might, during an era where wars are commonplace and order/peace is lacking. This, I think, is in line with the feeling that the original Chinese delivers.

TL;DR: Translating Chinese to English is difficult, and Zhongli sounds badass (and hot) in all languages.

I admit tho, what I know came from the following threads: 1, 2 and 3. If I’m wrong at any point, please tell me so. Thank you! ^_^

Btw, the part where Zhongli reminisced “...a future without the pain of savage slaughter. A future without lives lived in vain, and a future where every day is filled with peace...” comes from the Stone of Remembrance item description. I just thought it’s fitting.

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On the topic of Zhongli, Guizhong, and Venti’s relationship with each other. You’ve ever been best friends with someone for so long that you just assume that the other knows everything about you already? Yeah, that’s basically what happens here lol. Zhongli and Guizhong thought that they’ve already told Venti that they’re no longer a couple, but Venti still thinks that they are, hahaha! XD

Zhongli and Guizhong’s relationship in this fic is basically ‘amicable exes and best friends who occasionally fucks’. Guizhong ships Zhongli with Venti, much to Zhongli’s embarrassment because he thinks Venti isn’t interested in him.

Venti, meanwhile, doesn’t know any of this, and thinks that those two are still a couple. Since they’re both his best friends, he supports their ‘relationship’, all the while secretly angry at himself for falling for someone who (he believes) is already taken.

Celestia help them lol. They’ve been (unknowingly) dealing with this miscommunication for over 2000 years! (๐॔˃̶ᗜ˂̶๐॓)

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Anywaaaayyyy, I’m back! And with a super long chapter too! Hope you guys don’t mind this huge wall of text! XD

God, I’m so tired after writing this... _(:3」∠)_. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was fun and exhilarating, but at the same time, I don’t think I’ll be doing a giant chapter like this again anytime soon. This is over twice the length of Northeastern Cradle Song, which is the longest chapter here before now!

The next chapters should be lighter and shorter... I think...

(I say, as if I’m not gonna write another super long chapter when Mihoyo releases another Zhongli or Venti story quest lol)

Hahaha, for this, I wrote Zhongli’s quotes at the beginning and end first (along with a little bit of the ending), then did the entire past/Morax parts, and afterwards wrote the present/Zhongli stuff in between it, before reading it through and patching it with some additional stuff to make it flow better/make the theme more cohesive. Let me know if it works, please? Thank you! :D

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I’m feeling much better now after my break. I’ve read the news that Mihoyo is putting Zhongli into the 1.3 beta tests, so there’s some hope that he’ll get buffed (I’m still waiting for more info before expecting anything tho), and I’ve also read his Story 5. Aaaaaaahhhhhhh, can’t believe Zhongli’s last story has some Zhongli and Venti interactions in it! :D

I also finally gotten around to making a rough outline for this fic. Please note, however, that it’s still subject to change. Looking at it now though, it seems that, including the chapters already uploaded here, Zhongli and Venti will confess at... ehh... around chapter 100.

(^_^)

Muahahaha! If the adepti and 4 Winds have to wait over 2000 years for them to confess, then you guys have to wait the equivalent amount as well! That ‘Slow Burn’ tag isn’t just for show, you know? Hehehe! (๐॔˃̶ᗜ˂̶๐॓)

Thank you very much for your patience, and I hope you all have a lovely day! ^_^

Uploaded on 16 December 2020

Edited (1 September 2021): Fixed Zhongli’s title from ‘God of War’ to ‘Warrior God’

Next Chapter Summary:

Mora is simply a convenient way to measure the value of a contract. There are plenty of other currencies that one can engage in when one doesn’t have money. In which Zhongli tries to get used to life as a ‘mortal’ in Mondstadt, one step at a time.

Edit: Please note that the nameless fire goddess and lightning god that Zhongli fought in this chapter aren’t the Archons, but just random gods during the Archon War.

If you like this and wish to support me more, you can find out how on my Twitter. Also, I like to make Genshin fanart sometimes. If you’re interested, you can check it out in my Instagram.

Chapter Text

With his chin on his hand, Zhongli stared thoughtfully at the rows of apples, grapes, and assorted fruits in front of him.

The bright morning sun made the dew on the fresh fruits glisten, tempting potential customers to come right up to the simple stall and buy a bunch immediately. This was what caught Zhongli’s attention, after all. He may not possess the same in-depth knowledge of Mondstadt’s goods and products the same way he knew all of Liyue’s, but he could tell quality from a glance.

“These look especially ripe and juicy,” Zhongli complimented, picking up an apple to inspect it, “You must have quite the good harvest today.”

“Why, thank you, good sir!” The stall owner, a middle-aged woman named Carol, smiled, “It’s all thanks to blessings of the Anemo Archon.”

The corners of his lips quirked up at the mention of his friend. Of course...

Venti didn’t join him on today’s outing, busy with his work in Angel’s Share. Apparently, he got another morning to midday shift again, making this the third time in a row that he got such slots. Earlier, Venti had complained to him over their breakfast of pancakes.

“I don’t get why Diluc keeps putting me on the morning shifts!” The windborne bard had grumbled back then, stabbing the fluffy pancakes Zhongli had made for them, “Most of the regulars come after work, around sundown. So why does he keep his best bard from the best shifts?”

Zhongli had raised a brow as he watched his friend cut through the chocolate syrup smiley face that he had drawn on their breakfast, “Perhaps he’s experimenting. Your music is good enough that it draw in crowds even during off-hours, so perhaps he’s trying to see if he can raise his revenues and gain more regulars by putting you in the morning shifts.”

“Hmm... I guess...” Venti pouted, slouching. He pointed his fork at him petulantly, “Why must you always make sense, huh?”

Zhongli had laughed then. The memory of that breakfast still made him smile now.

Despite Venti’s half-hearted complaints, Diluc did pay the bard quite handsomely. All the disguised Anemo Archon had to do was work at Angel’s Share for around six to eight hours every two days or so, break time included. Not only did Venti get to keep all the tips (and wine) he earned from his fans (which all added up to a lot), but he was also paid a generous 10,000 mora per hour.

In short, all Venti had to do was work for a day and they would be able to pay their rent for the month, with extra money on the side for whatever they wanted.

Diluc was very generous indeed... then again, Venti was his country’s patron god and the titular God of Songs himself, with the skills to more than back it up. If the redhead didn’t pay him a such a high wage, then Zhongli would question the winery owner’s fairness.

And one would not like if if the God of Contracts question one’s fairness.

Trade relies on both contracts and fairness. If fairness is lost, then the contract shall become proof one’s deception.

As Zhongli carefully inspected the fruits, a woman in blue walked up to the stall. The Geo Archon would have ignored her, but the starry patterns on her clothes caught his eye. There was something familiar about her... But the wide witch hat she wore covered her face from his view.

“Oh, Mona! It’s good to see you again!” Carol greeted her, “Come for more mushrooms?”

The pieces clicked together. Ah, Zhongli thought, eyeing the woman beside him, so this is Mona, the wandering astrologist who used to stay at Zhu’s inn.

Being both the God of Liyue and having a secret, private residence on Mount Tianheng, Zhongli knew of the innkeeper who tried to run an inn nearby there. Since it was so off the beaten track and situated between Liyue Harbour and Wangshu Inn however, the inn rarely saw any visitors. A shame, since the food there was quite good for its price and the view of Luhua Pool was stunning.

“Not today, Carol!” The astrologist proudly declared, “Today, I think I’ll be getting some eggs, cabbages, apples, and potatoes.”

The stall owner chuckled, “Ah, so you’re making your special salad again, dear? Alright then, how much do you need?”

Mona told her the amount she needed. After calculating the costs, Carol named her price, “Okay, for five of everything, the total is 2,300 mora.”

The astrologist nodded, summoning her purse from thin air. When she opened it though, her face fell, “Uh... what...? No, I thought...”

“No mora again, Mona?” The stall owner asked sympathetically, “I’m sorry, but you know how it goes. I can’t give away free stuff.”

Zhongli watched as her shoulders drooped in defeat. Mona sighed, “Yes, I know...”

She left quietly after that, a hand over her stomach. Zhongli thought that he could hear her stomach growling. In front of him, the stall keeper shook her head.

‘That’s Mona,” Carol said, “She’s a good girl, but she keeps spending all her mora on her star stuff. As interesting as all that is, don’t you think you should keep yourself fed and healthy before trying to uncover life’s mysteries or what-have-you?

 Zhongli nodded, “Yes, that would be quite wise. It is difficult to pursue one’s interests on an empty stomach.”

“Too right!” She laughed, loud and merry like most Mondstadters. The middle-aged woman looked at him, “So! Have you decided on anything?”

“Yes,” Zhongli answered, “I can tell that all of your products are of the highest quality. Therefore, I would like to buy them all.”

“Uh,” Carol blinked, tilting her head, “Are you quite sure about that, sir? That’s—that’s quite a lot. What would you even need that much food for?”

That was a good point; Zhongli pondered it as he took out his wallet. Being an adeptus with a dragon form, he could easily eat that much on his own without worrying about his weight (on more than one occasion, he had cleared out an entire buffet at Liuli Pavilion or Xinyue Kiosk twice over in a single visit. Funnily enough, neither owners have ever billed him), but it would be a shame to waste so much food on him when he didn’t actually need that much. Venti would appreciate the apples, though even he wouldn’t go so far as to buy an entire stall’s stock.

His choice, however, was made for him when he opened his wallet and saw a fly flew out... before immediately dropping to the ground.

Ah, right.

Dully, Zhongli commented, “Hm, it seems that in terms of mora, I have none.”

Carol gaped at him, before she slowly shook with laughter. “Hahaha!” She bent over her stall in mirth, “Hahaha! Sir, I didn’t expect you have such a sense of humour. Oooh... hahaha, ah, ouch, I think my ribs hurt...”

Zhongli shrugged, tucking his empty wallet away. A shame that he could no longer produce mora without his Gnosis, but that particular ability was never that important to the God of Wealth and Commerce anyway. He waited for the stall owner to calm down before he calmly asked, “I would still like to purchase some of your fruits. Perhaps you would be amiable to a different sort of trade?”

“Ah...” Carol wiped a tear from her eyes, shoulder still shaking from leftover laughter, “What sort of trade are you thinking of, sir?”

“Hmm,” he put his chin on his hand, thinking, “Is there anything in particular that you need? Goods, knowledge, or physical labour?”

Slowly, the middle-aged woman took in a deep breath, calming down enough to think his offer over. She looked at him, taking note of his confident posture, “Well... you do look pretty strong... How about this, you help me do some heavy-lifting over here and I’ll let you take some of my fruits when I close up shop later?”

“That sounds fair,” Zhongli smiled, extending a hand as per Mondstadtian culture, “My name is Zhongli. It would be my honour to work with you today.”

Carol raised a brow at his politeness, but shook his hand anyway, smiling back, “You already know my name is Carol. It’s good to make a deal with you, Mr. Zhongli.”

The tasks that Carol asked him to do was simple, if fairly repetitive.

All he had to do was lift a few boxes and move them here or there. Sometimes, he also had to put more produce on the display to refresh the stock on sale. It was simple, easy labour.

After centuries of dealing with the intricacies of running a large country like Liyue, there was something refreshing about simply working in a food stall.

While he worked, he also chatted with Carol. Or rather, Carol chatted with him. The woman enjoyed talking, it seemed, and she seemed especially enthused with sharing stories to her temporary co-worker.

“It’s been a long time since someone helped me out here,” she admitted as they sat down on stools and watched the other market-goers stroll down the street, “My son and husband are part of the expedition led by Grandmaster Varka. They left around six months ago. Meanwhile, my daughter works as an assistant jeweller to Marjorie’s With Wind Comes Glory shop. Her work hours overlaps with my stall’s opening hours, so she can’t help out either.”

“I would be happy to help out if I have the time,” Zhongli offered, “I have just recently moved to Mondstadt, so I’m still getting used to the city.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! I would appreciate it very much,” Carol beamed, “If you like, perhaps you would enjoy accompanying me to some of my clubs or meetings? I know a great deal of the many activities you can do in Mondstadt besides drinking, hahaha! That’s if you don’t being in the company of a bunch of middle-aged housewives.”

“If all of your friends is as sweet as you, then I wouldn’t mind,” Zhongli gave a small smile, instantly charming her as he planned. Hmph, who said that only Guizhong and Venti knew how to flirt?

“Hahaha, you’re quite the charmer, Mr. Zhongli! Unfortunately for you, I’m already happily married. ” Carol laughed merrily, “Still, if only I’m twenty years or so younger... ah, it doesn’t matter. Surely someone as handsome as you already have a lover? Perhaps a wife or a husband or someone special?”

“Ahh...” The disguised earth god blushed, looking away, “No, none of that. Though...”

“Oh?” The stall owner leaned forward, eyes glimmering with interest.

“I... do have someone in mind, but they are completely uninterested in me,” Zhongli quietly admitted, looking away, “We are simply friends, and I do not wish to ruin it by bringing it up.”

“Oh... Mr. Zhongli...” Carol patted his shoulder. The brief contact jolted him; amber eyes immediately staring at her while his fingers twitched for his spear. It was only then that he realised that this was the first time in a very, very long while that a mortal had casually touched him with him knowing full well that the other meant absolutely no harm.

(There was Childe, but the only times they touched were when they shook hands or handed over chopsticks. Any possible contact was hidden behind leather gloves; any actions the other took carefully calculated and scrutinised so that the Fatui Harbinger wouldn’t bring lasting harm to his Liyue. Despite his contract with the Tsaritsa, Zhongli knew better than to fully trust him.)

(Though he did wonder if Childe managed to return to Snezhnaya safely. It would be a shame if a warrior as strong as him were to die because of an accident at sea or something.)

Carol didn’t seem to notice his surprise, continuing on, “Well, don’t lose hope! I’m sure love will find you someday. Perhaps we can set you up with my daughter, hmm? Or maybe one of my friends’ kids, hahaha!”

Zhongli shook his head, chuckling softly, “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary, Ms. Carol.”

“If you say so, but remember, the offer’s always open!”

The Geo Archon laughed again, this time a little bit louder and freer. They had only met today—the conversation they shared barely a couple of hours long—but here he was already with an offer to meet her friends, join some clubs, and meet her or her friends’ children for a potential matchmaking scheme. Mondstadt truly is the Land of Freedom...

He thought of Venti, who had approached him with wine and a picnic basket on their first meeting, and asked only to be friends with him. Memories of the various mischiefs and misadventures the younger god had caused rose in his mind, which annoyed him back then but became such fond memories now. The smile on his face became a bit larger.

This country... it truly does reflect her Archon.

Zhongli noticed how Carol advertised her products... or didn’t, in her case.

As the God of Merchants and Commerce, he couldn’t help but notice that she could be selling a lot more, but didn’t because she preferred to let her customers come to her. There was some merits in that strategy, Zhongli knew, but he couldn’t help but think there was a better way to sell her products.

He offered to help her do so. Carol had raised her brow, but agreed to let him try. He questioned her about the details of her products in turn, getting all the information he needed to conduct a successful sale.

“I don’t really care much about profits,” Carol told him as Zhongli noted down everything she said about her goods on a notebook he took out from his coat, “I have enough to get by thanks to my husband, son, and daughter’s work; I don’t really need more. Still, I heard a lot about how Liyuean merchants sell their goods, so let’s see you try.”

“That’s an admirable mindset to have,” Zhongli replied, tucking his notebook back into his coat, “If one constantly thinks about mora, then all of one’s life will revolve around mora. Well, if that’s the life that someone chooses out of their own free will, then that’s fine for them. Still, I think that it’s good that you are not trapped in such a mindset.”

Carol tilted her head, “If you agree with that, then why are you doing this, Mr. Zhongli?”

The God of Commerce chuckled, smiling faintly, “Let’s just say that I’m quite fond of closing deals and making contracts myself.”

The first thing he did was pick out a few decent-quality fruits and cut them to pieces, before setting them on a plate with the sign “Free Samples!” set over it.

Most merchants in Liyue would hawk their products and shout to the passersby, trying to get them to check their wares. There was some merits in that strategy, Zhongli knew, but looking at the peaceful, quiet market street, he has a feeling that doing so would do the opposite of what he intended. Good merchants knew how to adapt to the foreign culture they were in, and as the God of Merchants, Zhongli knew how to do so.

After he set the plate of free samples on one side, he carefully observed each market-goers. There was a woman with a small child, a pair of teenagers, an adventurer eyeing a sword... Zhongli meticulously paid attention to every single detail about them and crafted a plan on the spot.

It should be noted that, as a god who has lived for over six thousand years and was known to have taken on many disguises throughout the millenniums, Zhongli had learnt to act remarkably well.

He wouldn’t have been half as successful at manipulating, plotting, and steering Liyue to its current prosperity if he wasn’t. There were many, many points in Liyue’s history where he influenced the people into doing what he thought was necessary without a single one of them realising it; many momentous occasions that passed without mortals recognising his hand in them. He may not like lying, but if it was for the sake of the greater good, then he wasn’t adverse to it either.

As the God of the Country of Merchants, it was undoubtable that he would excel in charming and winning over customers too.

When the woman with the child passed by, Zhongli greeted them with a pleasant smile, “Good morning! Would you like to try some of our free samples?”

“Oh?” The young mother stopped, glancing at him. He kept his merchant’s smile up, knowing that she was much more interested in him than the fruits. With a smile, the mother approached the stall, “Well... I’m sure one or two wouldn’t be bad....”

Appearances could mean a lot in sales, and having a pleasant face helped a lot in charming over potential customers. Zhongli knew that many considered his current form handsome, and wasn’t ashamed to use it to get what he wanted, “These apples are freshly picked from Springvale. The trees it came from were watered with irrigations from Cider Lake, thus ensuring its quality.”

With a wink and a winsome smile, he added, “I’m sure that these apples will make an already beautiful woman such as yourself shine even brighter.”

“Oh my...” As expected, the woman blushed, tittering, “Well, if you say so, then I should buy some. Say, how about... Five apples, please?”

“Of course, milady,” he replied politely, watching her giggle a bit in nervousness when he addressed her with ‘milady’. Zhongli gestured with a hand towards the rest of the produce on display, “Perhaps I can also interest you in some other fruits too? I heard that eating healthy is the new trend...”

In the end, the only reason she stopped buying things from him was because her child demanded them to go home. Blushing, she apologised profusely as she handed him the agreed upon mora, before leaving with two baskets full of fruits. Her child had to help her carry the second basket.

Total Sales: 10,390 mora

The pair of teenagers—a young boy and a girl—had been eyeing him for quite some time now.

From the way they’ve been not-so discreetly staring at him, blushing while they did so, Zhongli assumed that it was because of his appearance. A handsome Liyuean man in a finely-stitched suit would draw attention anywhere, even in somewhere as innocuous as a stall on a peaceful market street. Seeing as there were no other potential customers, he caught their eyes and gave them a smile.

“Good morning,” he calmly strolled from behind the stall, voice deep and pleasant, “I’ve seen you two standing here all morning. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Ah—well, um...” Seeing as they were caught redhanded, the boy stammered and stuttered, “We—we were just—”

“Looking at the fruits!” His friend exclaimed a little too loudly, cheeks also red. When he turned his gaze on her, she fidgeted on the spot and averted her eyes, “We’re, um—It... it looks really good! So ripe and juicy, we thought we could... um, maybe try it out?”

“Oh, I would definitely like to try it out...” The boy murmured beside her, earning him an elbow to his ribs from the girl.

Zhongli let the innuendo flew past, “If that’s so, then perhaps you can try some of our free samples?”

The two glanced at each other, cheeks still red, before nodding. As they walked over to the stall, Zhongli shared a trivia, sonorous voice deliberately captivating, “Do you know, in Liyue oranges are considered to be an auspicious symbol of abundance and happiness. That is because they resemble the sun, which is aligned with yang energy, or in the Common Tongue, positive energy.”

Both of them stared at him, hanging onto every word. Zhongli smiled as he picked up an orange and lightly tossed it up and down.

“Grapes also symbolises good fortune,” he explained, gesturing towards said fruit, “They are often used as offerings to Rex Lapis, though I heard that the Anemo Archon Barbatos also enjoys them.”

“Really?” The girl leaned forward, eyes wide with interest.

The pleasant merchant smile he wore became a tad more genuine. “Yes, though from what I heard it’s because he enjoys the wine that you make from the fruit,” Zhongli picked up a ripe apple, “However, in terms of fruits he loves as is, then that’s undoubtedly the apple.”

Venti loved apples, Zhongli knew, to the point that he would be willing to play a song for one. On more than one occasion, Zhongli had bribed the Anemo Archon to either sing for him, or behave and stay silent by giving him an apple (or a jar of wine if that wasn't enough). It always worked too.

His friend also loved any apple-related food. That was one of the reasons why Zhongli had agreed to work for Carol today, so that he could get the apples he needed to bake an apple pie for their dinner.

“How do you know so much about Lord Barbatos?” The boy asked, furrowing his brows, “You’re from Liyue, aren’t you?”

Zhongli nodded, still smiling that pleasant merchant smile, his tone and posture one of confidence, “That’s correct, however I have a good friend from Mondstadt who often regaled me of tales of the Anemo Archon. He’s the reason why I’m here, to be honest.”

Well, that was technically true. Venti was the Anemo Archon, so any stories he told him about himself and his (mis)adventures across Teyvat were technically the tales of Barbatos as well. They were just not what the average mortal would have expected from a god.

Briefly, he wondered how these two teenagers would react if he told them that their patron deity liked to masquerade as a drunk bard.

“Try our free samples,” Zhongli suggested, “If you like it, perhaps you might consider buying some as well. Who knows, you might just get the blessings of the Geo and Anemo Archons.”

He gave both of them another charming wink and a winsome smile. The teens blushed so hard, their faces were almost beet-red as they nodded rapidly. The God of Commerce had to keep himself from chuckling.

In the end, between the two young friends, they bought enough that they have to lift their baskets with both arms. As they left, cheeks still red, Zhongli heard them promise to visit again in the future. This time, he did chuckle as he waved them off, Good, we’re getting some regulars then.

Total Sales: 8,640 mora

When an adventurer walked by with a brand new sword on his hip, Zhongli called out to him, a merchant’s smile on his face, “Good morning! That’s a fine sword you have, good sir!”

As expected, the adventurer stopped, turning to him with a smile as he puffed out his chest with pride, “Why, thank you! I just got it from Wagner’s.”

“Ah, I heard much about Wagner the blacksmith. His skills are peerless in Mondstadt,” he nodded, omitting the fact that he had instructed said blacksmith on repairing a divine instrument, “Such a fine sword suits a fine adventurer such as yourself.”

“Hehe, yes, you’re right!” The adventurer exclaimed, “Lord Barbatos be my witness, I’ll uncover ruins and gather treasures unknown with this new sword by my side.”

Zhongli hid a snicker. If Venti was here, there was no doubt that he would be enjoying this. It was often amusing to hear the kind of proclamations their people made in their names without realising that they were conversing with said gods.

“I pray that you will find success wherever the wind leads you,” Zhongli replied, before suggesting, “If you are going on an adventure, perhaps I can tempt you with some snacks?”

The adventurer looks at the rows of fruits, vegetables, and other produce lined up on the stall. A small frown was on his face, “Fruits and veggies, huh... Hmm, not really my thing...”

Ah, a meat eater.

Quite a few adventurers he saw in the Adventurer’s Guild in Liyue also preferred eating meat over greens. Some believed that it was ‘manly’; others did so out of simple preference. Either way, Zhongli knew how to sell fruits and vegetables to them.

“I understand, good sir. Meat, when cooked right, is one of life’s simplest, most pleasurable delicacies.” The best way to win someone over was to flatter and agree with them—or at least appear to, in any case. Any merchant worth their mora knew this basic fact, “However, I know quite a few simple recipes that could enhance the deliciousness and benefits of meat with a few common vegetables.”

“Matsutake meat rolls, for example, is a simple, pan-fried dish that requires only two ingredients: matsutake and meat. All you have to do is stuff the meat into the mushroom and gently pan-fry it on low heat, letting the matsutake soak in the aromatic juice of the meat. Once it’s done, you have a simple, mouthwatering delicacy in all its glory.”

“There are more recipes I can share if you like,” Zhongli offered, smile calculatingly pleasant and disarming, “Calla lily seafood soup, bamboo shoot soup, and the crab, ham and veggie bake, just to name a few. Not only are they delicious, but they’re also very nutritious, and are sure to aid you in your adventures.”

With his chin on his hand, the adventurer thoughtfully stroke his moustache as he leaned forward, “Go on...”

Zhongli smiled, Got you.

In the end, the adventurer left with three baskets filled with fruits, vegetables, mushroom, and other produce, as well as at least five pages of recipes written in Zhongli’s neat handwriting.

Total Sales: 20,850 mora

They were not the only customers that graced their humble stall.

There was a nun who bought a basketful of vegetables to feed the orphans. A chef who carefully inspected each produce with the same keen eye Zhongli has when examining gems. A tailor who was returning from an errand, and stopped by to chat with Carol and bought an orange or two.

More came and went, and while the stall was never as full as the kiosks in Liyue Harbour would be during peak traffic time, there was a steady exchange of coins for goods. All in all, Zhongli was quite satisfied with their ongoing sale. If this kept up, then they would have sold out all their goods by closing time.

Carol, who had been observing her temporary co-worker while helping out where she could, commented, “You’re a very good businessman, Mr. Zhongli. Did you use to run a business back in Liyue?”

“Of a sort,” Zhongli replied, sitting on a stool. There was a lull in the crowd, allowing them a brief respite from selling, “I’m retired now.”

“So young!” Carol exclaimed, to which Zhongli hid a chuckle. He supposed his current form did look quite young. The stall owner, not knowing of his humour, said sympathetically, “To retire when you’re so young... was the business not successful? I can’t believe that though, since you’re so good at getting customers to buy things just now.”

“No, no,” Zhongli shook his head, allowing a faint, but real smile to grace his lips, “It was quite successful, actually. But over time, the stress of running it has taken its toll on me. I find myself quite relieved to be done with that burden now.”

Memories of his duties as Liyue’s unseen Emperor floated to him, marring his smile with a frown. The paper-strewn pavilion in the sky, the times he mingled with humans to learn all their secrets for Liyue’s advantage, and took on various forms to nudge mortal fates to achieve his desired results. Him caring for his subjects yet at the same time using them as pawns for the greater good...

The endless, endless piles of paperwork, expectations, and responsibilities; enough to crumble mountains over time...

For some reason, Zhongli’s stomach churned when he remembered his previous duties.

“I see...” Carol nodded, eyes still soft. She didn’t seem to realised he had tripped over his memories again, “It must’ve been really hard for you, huh? But you seem quite happy now.”

She smiled, pure and bright like her Archon, “I’m glad that you’re here with us, Mr. Zhongli. I hope that you’ll enjoy your life here in Mondstadt.”

And just like that, the Lord of Geo was struck breathless.

They had only met that day—their relationship spanning only a single morning so far—yet already Carol had offered him friendship and comfort. This simple, regular mortal, who was unlikely to leave a grand mark on time, had sincerely given her sympathies and good faith, hoping the best for him. She did so not because he was a god or a ruler, but simply because—to her—he was a good man.

How simple and pure...

Again, he thought of Venti; laughter in the breeze and an easy smile over wine. He thought of Guizhong, who once said, “Those little people are as small and fragile as dust.”

In barely a few decades, this woman in front of him would be naught but dust, but Zhongli would treasure this memory of their meeting.

He tilted his head down, his smile faint but sincere, “Thank you.”

Carol laughed then, loud and bright, so very reminiscent to a certain wind god, “No need to thank me, Mr. Zhongli. We’re friends now!”

Venti arrived midday.

“My,” he commented, voice tinted with laughter as he watched Zhongli carefully place some eggs and vegetables in a basket, “It’s been very long time since I’ve seen this side of you.”

“Oh?” After handing the basket to a blushing woman and receiving the mora in exchange, Zhongli turned to face his friend, “What do you mean?”

Venti chuckled, “You know, this aspect of you as a merchant. Most of the time, I see you in your...ah, other personas.”

Since he couldn’t say it aloud with the crowd surrounding them, the disguised Anemo Archon let the wind spoke for him, “Usually when I visit, you are the God of Contracts, and long before that, the God of War. Sometimes I forget that you choose to make Liyue strong by dint of commerce, instead of through military might or cultural conquests.”

“Is that so?” Zhongli mused, seemingly to himself as he helped an old lady pack her purchases, “After centuries of war, Rex Lapis has no desire for more unnecessary bloodshed. As for the culture; at the present Liyue’s culture is known far and wide, but like a flower it is something that takes time to grow. Trade and economic might, then, was the easiest, least gruesome path of development after the Archon War.”

“Of course,” Venti laughed softly, his grin wide, “Rex Lapis is very wise... and also very ambitious.”

Zhongli couldn’t help the snort of amusement, “Ambitious... that’s not something most would describe the Lord of Geo as.”

“Oh, but he is!” Venti leaned in, smiling mischievously. The scent of cecilia drifted on the wind, “After all, it’s one thing to make a prosperous nation; another to turn it into the economic capital of an entire continent. If he was simply content with making his people happy, then Liyue would be quite similar to Mondstadt. Yet he wanted more for his people, and thus turned it into the center of commerce it is today.”

“The very currency of this land is named after him. One must be very ambitious to turn one’s own name, flesh, and blood into what is arguably the lifeblood of this continent. To become the guarantor of the people’s hard work, wisdom, and future... only someone who is truly ambitious and dedicated would do so.”

Ah, for all that Venti liked to put on the facade of a drunk bard, his friend was quite astute. Zhongli chuckled.

“Perhaps that was just something that happened, hmm?” The God of Commerce suggested, a faint smirk upon his lips.

Venti laughed again, “When the proof is in the mora itself? In the fact that only Liyue has the sole right to mint the currency of an entire continent? Heh, Rex Lapis must be quite ‘lucky’ if it just ‘happened’ that way.”

Zhongli hummed, putting new stock on display, “If you say so, my friend. But I think that there is nothing wrong with being ambitious... so long as you remember the important things in life.”

“Oh, I agree,” Venti nodded, snickering, “I just find it funny that most people tend to see either his God of Contracts side or his War God persona. Rex Lapis is more than a strict arbiter of contracts or a fierce guardian deity—he can also be quite the cunning merchant.”

“I would prefer the word ‘charming’.”

“Hahaha! Of course, Zhongli...”

Since Venti no longer have any work to do, Zhongli asked him to provide music for the stall. His reasoning was that Venti’s songs would draw in more crowds near the stall, thus allowing more potential customers to see their goods and buy from them. Venti agreed... as long as he gets an apple later as payment.

“Is he that friend from Mondstadt you mentioned before?” Carol asked him as they watched him perform next to their stall, “The one that tells you stories of Lord Barbatos?”

“Yes,” Zhongli nodded, watching the performance with rapt attention, “He’s also my roommate while I’m here. I admit, it’s because of him and a mutual friend that I am now living in Mondstadt.”

“I see...” The middle-aged housewife murmured thoughtfully, before tilting her head, “Is he that ‘special someone’ you like but can’t confess to?”

Startled, Zhongli nearly fell off his stool with how quickly he spun to face her; ponytail whipping the air. She stared back at him calmly, almost innocently if it weren’t for the amused smile on her face.

“I... Ah...” He could feel his face turning red. Thankfully, Venti was too engrossed in singing to notice their conversation. With his voice pitched soft, Zhongli asked, “Is... is it that obvious?”

“Quite,” she nodded, laughing a bit, “You stare at him the same way my husband would stare at me, or me at him.”

That was... well. Zhongli’s face turned even redder, though his heart sank. If he was that obvious that even someone he just met would realise it, then surely his friend would notice it too? The fact that Venti continued treating him as a friend, then, must surely mean that he wasn’t interested in Zhongli that way.

“Please keep this a secret,” he implored her, “I do not wish to ruin our friendship with my feelings.”

Carol nodded, placing one finger on her lips, “My lips are as sealed as a rose.”

Relieved, Zhongli turned back to the performance, seeing Venti reaching the climax of his song. A sizeable crowd has gathered around him, with some of them eyeing their stall. When the crowd asked the windborne bard for an encore, Venti laughed, saying, “Sure, I’ll play you another tune, but it’ll cost you an apple!”

A few of them bought apples from Carol’s stall for the bard—just as Zhongli planned. Some of them, upon noticing Zhongli—who smiled his pleasant merchant’s smile at them—even bought baskets of other produce. All in all, they turned in a nice profit.

Carol, who was helping him pack another basket, tilted her head to the singing bard, commenting quietly, “You know, you two make a really good team. I can see why you fell in love with him.”

By the time they have to close up shop, they have accumulated a grand total of 120,970 mora.

Carol’s eyes were wide as he finished counting the coins, while Venti laughed, “You know, with how horrible your budgeting skills are, I sometimes forget that you can be quite the crafty merchant.”

“‘Charming’,” Zhongli insisted, putting all the mora into a pouch and handing it over to the stall-owner, “Here you go, Ms. Carol, as promised.”

“I—This is... this is too much!” She gasped, weighing the heavy coin pouch with both hands, “Mr. Zhongli, I insist that you take half of this!”

He shook his head, “No need. We agreed that I’ll take some of your fruits in exchange for helping you out.”

“But that’s not fair!” She protested, shoving the coin pouch at him, “It’s only thanks to you that we sold out most of my produce. I would never be able to sell so much on my own, Mr. Zhongli.”

Carol took out another pouch and poured roughly half of it into it, before pushing the new pouch into Zhongli’s hands, “Here, please, take this and the rest of my goods. You and your friend here deserve it.”

Unable to convince her otherwise, Zhongli accepted the mora pouch. He smiled to himself, A merchant who understands the concept of fairness and isn’t enthralled by mora. This one has a heart like gold.

There were only a few fruits and vegetables left. With her help, Zhongli packed the rest into a basket for him to carry home and make dinner with. Venti tried to swipe an apple or two while they were packing, but he easily batted his hand away.

“Later,” he told the pouting wind god, “I’m making apple pie for desert tonight.”

That cheered his friend up immediately, “Really? Great! You’re a good cook!”

Zhongli chuckled quietly. He was also known as the God of the Stove, after all. Furthermore, Liyue was well known for its delicious cuisine. As the God of the Stove and Liyue, it was only natural that Zhongli was also a great cook.

As the sun slowly set on the western horizon, they bid the mortal woman goodbye. Carol waved at them as they left, exclaiming, “Come by any time! I’ll take you to see my friends and the clubs we have in Mondstadt!”

“Thank you,” Zhongli nodded, smiling faintly as he waved her farewell, “I’ll do that.”

Once they were out of earshot, Venti turned to him and lightly nudged his arm, grinning, “Your first human friend in centuries! No, millenniums! Congratulations!”

He huffed a quiet breath, slightly amused, “I fail to see why that is such a cause for celebration.”

“It’s a big thing for you,” Venti turned on his heel and walked backwards while facing him, hands crossed behind his head, “You don’t really interact with mortals unless you have something to gain or need them for one of your plots. Even if you’re not doing so, you don’t really connect with them either. This is the first time I’ve seen you do that!”

“Aahh...” the wind god mused, smiling widely and—dare he say it—proudly, “You know, Guizhong’s gonna be so happy to hear this. She has always wanted you to be a bit more human.”

“I know,” he remembered her lecturing him about humanity many, many times over their long years of love and friendship. Venti’s mention of her piqued his interest, however, “You are talking to her?”

“Sort of. I like to send dandelion messages to her sometimes,” Venti shrugged, “But since she’s an earth deity like you, she can’t really respond in the same way.”

Ah, yes... dandelion messages, one of the Anemo Archon’s preferred methods of communication. As far as mediums for communication goes, it wasn’t very effective for mortals—though humans liked the sentiment behind it and still practiced it out of habit or superstition. Zhongli himself had received a few dandelion messages from the wind god over the years, though more often than not the contents were invitations to drink or Venti asking him to pay for his tab.

“I see,” Zhongli nodded, “But you do get messages from her? How is she doing?”

“She’s doing good,” Venti answered. He went quiet for a moment before he spun on his heel again to walk normally. With his back facing Zhongli, the earth god couldn’t see the expression on his face, “You know... she misses you a lot. Why don’t you go and visit her sometime?”

“That’s a good idea. Would you like to come with me?”

Venti was silent for a moment before he shook his head. He smiled at Zhongli over a shoulder, eyes curved into cheerful crescents that masked his true feelings from the Geo Archon, “Nah, you should go alone. I can visit her later.”

“I see no reason why we shouldn’t go together,” Zhongli tilted his head, “Unless you have some work at Angel’s Share?”

“...Yeah, there’s that. I think Diluc’s going to ask me to work more since I’m so good at my job, you know?”

“I understand,” he sighed, “Such a shame. I’m sure she would like to see you.”

While it was often annoying how Guizhong would tease him over his crush for the younger god, Zhongli admitted to himself that he liked having both his friends there with him. Together, those two made quite an annoying, troublesome pair, but their misadventures together would always become fond memories for him later on. The form his love take for each of them were different, but he loved them both equally.

Though... he would rather not see Guizhong playfully flirt with Venti every other time they meet. He knew that Guizhong meant nothing by it, but he wasn’t sure about Venti’s reactions to it. The windborne bard was always too happy to flirt with her...

Oh well, Zhongli shrugged, there is always next time.

As they passed through the market street, they saw the lights in Wagner’s forge still lit up, the blacksmith still working even through the evening.

Curious, Zhongli walked up to the blacksmith’s shop, watching him strike hot steel with precision, “Still working, Wagner?”

“Ah, Mr. Zhongli, yes, I am,” Wagner looked up briefly from his work, nodding at him in greeting, “What can I do for you?”

“I’m just here to peruse your wares,” he replied, eyeing the crates of minerals, crystals, and gems that lined the shelves, “I see that you’ve got some new items in stock.”

“Yeah, a merchant from Liyue just passed by here and sold me some silver and gems. A miner who lives around the Dawn Winery has also stopped by and dropped off some crystals. You can take a look if you want.”

Zhongli did so, with Venti following close behind him.

“These crystals are of such pure quality. Look at how they glimmer like stars under the lamp,” Zhongli meticulously inspected each crystal, gem, and ore, “This silver is beautiful too. The miner must have worked hard to carefully extract such fine ore. And this sapphire...”

“Uhh... Zhongli...?” Venti tugged at his friend’s sleeve to no avail, “Hey, uh... don’t tell me you’re going to—”

Zhongli ignored him, staring at the blacksmith with an impassive face as he calmly, yet boldly declared:

“It’ll be a shame not to buy them. I’ll take them all, Wagner.”

In the end, Zhongli spent all of his hard-earned mora on the same day he got them.

Balance: 0 mora

Chapter Text

Venti woke up in Zhongli’s embrace...again.

This has more or less become the norm for his daily awakening. No matter what position they slept in at night, in the morning Venti would always find himself cocooned in the Geo Archon’s sleeping embrace without fail. By now, he had come to expect it.

The first couple of times had flustered Venti so much, that all he could do was stare at his friend’s sleeping face. This close, the wind god could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, hear the steady heartbeat beneath his ears, and feel the soft exhales against his red cheeks. It was all too much, yet at the same time, Venti wanted more.

Oh, how he longed to kiss those lips.

Venti restrained himself, however. They weren’t lovers sharing the same bed, but friends who didn’t check the apartment they wanted to rent before moving in, and thus happened to have to share a bed. That was all; he couldn’t afford to think too deeply into it.

Zhongli was already taken, after all.

Sometimes, Venti wondered why he didn’t live with Guizhong instead of him, but the former goddess did tell him that it would be better for Zhongli’s health if he left Liyue for a while. Presumably, Guizhong stayed behind to watch over Liyue in the earth god’s place, trusting the Anemo Archon to stay true to his word and take care of their mutual friend. She knew that nothing like that would ever happen between Venti and Zhongli, so that was why Guizhong trusted him with this.

(Or at least that was what Venti believed.)

Guizhong wasn’t only the earth god’s best friend; she was his best friend too. Sure, they may not share the same long history as her and Zhongli, but they connected and loved each other nonetheless. It was a different sort of love compared to the kind he secretly harboured towards Zhongli—but it was still love.

He absolutely could not betray her.

With that thought in mind, Venti closed his eyes, willing his body to return to its diminutive original form. This form was no longer his true form—having absorbed enough elemental energy from both nature and his Gnosis throughout the millenniums to become a giant Stormeye—but he held a special fondness towards it in his heart. After all, this was the form he had taken when he first gained sentience.

That was, perhaps, his moment of true birth.

(Although an echo of a memory lingered in the depths of his mind, dating back from long before he achieved true consciousness. It was nothing more than an impression of a young person, wrapping the then-insentient anemograna with a pure white handkerchief that Gunnhildr later sewed into a miniature cloak. The memory was a fleeting as a snowflake, yet no less important.)

In his wind spirit form, Venti quietly crawled out of Zhongli’s embrace. The earth god slept on, unaware that the wind god was quietly floating over his face. Venti hesitated for a moment—making sure that his friend was truly still asleep—before he quickly ducked his small head and landed a light kiss on his nose.

He had been doing this every morning since they moved in. It was the most he allowed himself to do.

Venti asked the wind to drew the blankets closer to Zhongli, tucking it under his chin, before the wind spirit flew off the bed and turned back to human form. Now, back in his mortal vessel, Venti stretched his arms up, before picking up his fake Vision from the nightstand and heading towards the bench underneath their window. With a thought, the glass orb turned into a lyre in his hands.

Opening the window, Venti smiled at the dawn and began to sing.

Breakfast was a simple, delicious fare of smiley-face pancakes with a side of bacon and lotus flower crisps, courtesy of Zhongli.

It was not as if Venti didn’t know how to cook. As a wandering bard, cooking was one of the most essential skill he had to learn (even though, technically, as an elemental he didn’t need to eat human food). Zhongli, however, was the God of Stoves, revered by the chefs of Liyue for the invention of said cooking apparatus. Thus, over the passing millenniums, he had grown to become a masterful chef to live up to this reputation.

Of course, if one were to ask Zhongli, he would say that his expertise in this particular area was mediocre at best.

As he ate his pancake, Venti watched his friend meticulously measure the amount of salt he needed, before carefully sprinkling it over a couple of poached eggs. Thoughtfully, he chewed and mused that even in nothing but a cotton, yellow shirt and white shorts, the Lord of Geo still managed to look ridiculously regal. It was unfair that someone could still look incredibly elegant in a frilly white apron with sunflower patterns all over it.

Briefly, Venti thought of what it would be like to walked up and hug him from behind. He quickly stabbed a piece of bacon at that thought, ruthlessly ending it before the fantasy could take root.

With a spatula, Zhongli quickly and expertly scooped up the delicious-smelling poached eggs, depositing them onto a plate before turning and setting it down on their small dining table. The smile which Venti greeted Zhongli with was half a mask, half genuine.

“It looks really good!” Venti complimented, moving his portion onto his plate. He grinned, teasing, “As expected from the God of the Stove.”

“Hmm,” his friend let out a small breath of amusement, sitting down gracefully in front of him in nothing but an apron and his night clothes, “It was the people of Liyue who created the stove. They insisted on crediting me for their achievement, however, despite the many times I tried to tell them otherwise.”

“Perks of being a god,” Venti laughed, “I know some people tell tales that I was the one who taught the first birds how to fly, but birds were already flying even before I came to existence.”

Zhongli nodded, taking a sip of water, “Yes, humans do have a tendency to attribute most things to the divines.”

It was, Venti noted, one of the strange quirks of humanity. For a species that could be incredibly prideful and competitive, they were also prone to such moments of self-deprecation that they dismissed their noteworthy achievements as feats of the gods. It was a fascinating, sometimes amusing, dichotomy.

This was one of the many, many reasons why Venti loved humanity.

“That aside...” Venti questioned, “Do you have any plans for today?”

He have to wait for Zhongli to finish chewing and swallowing a slice of pancake before the God of Geo would reply. Always so proper, this one, “No, I don’t have any. What about you?”

“Hmm...” Venti hummed. In contrast to his friend’s neat and tidy plate, the wind god’s was a mess of bits of pancakes and pieces of bacons, all covered with yolk from the warm poached egg, “Nope! No plans either. I don’t have any work to do, too.”

“Well then...” Zhongli tapped a finger against the table, an unconscious mannerism that Venti knew meant that he was deep in thought, “I was thinking of finding work. I need something to occupy myself with, now that I have retired from my previous duties.”

He couldn’t help but teased, “You just finished working and now you’re looking for morework?”

That earned him a lighthearted, disapproving huff from his friend, “Not all of us are content with spending the time sleeping our day away.”

“Hey now!” Venti snickered, “Sleeping is good for you. Besides, between you and me, you work enough for the both of us.”

“And yet I still fail to set an example for you,” Zhongli sighed with a small, faint smile, causing Venti to erupt into laughter.

“Hahaha, what can I say?” The wind god grinned, “Being a workaholic just isn’t my thing.”

That wasn’t to say that he learnt nothing from the Geo Archon, though. Zhongli may joked that he wasn’t a good example, but to Venti—whose first brush with divinity was against the tyrant god Decarabian—the God of Contracts embodied all the traits that a god should have: benevolence and wisdom, yet at the same time, he was strict and immovable. He was, unknowingly, Venti’s teacher; the standard to which he compared his feats of godhood against.

Compared to the mountain that was the Lord of Geo, the wind god often felt like he was still just a mere wisp in the breeze, forever looking up at the peak from the foot of the mountain. That was fine with Venti, however. To leave Mondstadt to her own devices was the decision he had made thousands of years ago, and the consequences of that fate were ones he chose to bear.

So what if he didn’t have as many noteworthy achievements like the Geo Archon? Venti enjoyed the life he led without such burdens of duty and reputation.

(Sometimes though, he wondered—would Zhongli liked him better if he did take his divine responsibilities seriously? He knew that his friend considered them equals, but occasionally, whenever he listened to the Lord of Geo’s grand feats and compared it to his own, Venti felt...)

Pushing those thoughts aside, Venti smiled, “So, got any ideas for what kind of jobs you want?”

His friend shook his head, “Not yet, I’m afraid.”

“Hmm...” He tapped his fork against his lips, “Then how about signing up to the Adventurer’s Guild?”

Zhongli looked at him, waiting for him to continue, which he did after a moment’s pause, “Well, think about it. You’re still new to Mondstadt, right? What better way to get acquainted with the city than by doing daily commissions for the folks here? You might also meet an adventurer or two who’ll piqued your interest.”

“I suppose that is true,” Zhongli mused, “And it would not do for me to keep relying on you for mora. I must earn my keep too.”

Venti laughed, “I thought you like being someone’s sugar baby.”

He got a blank stare in return, “A what now?”

Sometimes, he forgot how ancient his friend was. It probably didn’t help that Zhongli was very much attuned to Liyue’s culture, which meant that he didn’t know much about other countries cultures and slangs besides the ones he heard from travelling merchants and travellers. Between culture clash and a generational gap, it usually took some time for the traditional Zhongli to get used to new things.

“Never mind,” Venti shook his head, amused, “So you want to be an adventurer, huh? Well, let’s go sign up to the guild after breakfast!”

His friend’s brows were furrowed in confusion, but he nodded. The two leisurely finished their breakfast before taking turns to shower, and left the building.

As they went down the stairs of their apartment, the two Archons tripped again.

“I thought this only happens when we go up!” Venti complained, rubbing his sore forehead.

Zhongli grunted, massaging his jaw, “Is there not some kind of safety inspector in Mondstadt?”

In hindsight, this was a premonition for their day.

After signing up to the Adventurer’s Guild, Katheryne—the receptionist for the guild who Venti suspected was actually a robot from Snezhnaya—introduced them to a certain young, passionate adventurer.

“For the safety of all adventurers, it is generally recommended to form a group of three or four people,” Katheryne had explained prior to introducing them, “Mr. Zhongli here looks very strong and able, but it is always better to be safe than sorry. Later, after you have taken on more commissions and increased your Adventurer’s Rank, then you may go and adventure alone.”

Venti wasn’t even offended that she didn’t mentioned him nor addressed him as ‘Mister’. He was very used to people underestimating him and dismissing him as nothing more than a carefree boy or a drunken bard. In comparison to him, Zhongli looked very reliable and powerful indeed.

Whereas Venti would have trouble explaining that he was the Anemo Archon, no one would ever doubt Zhongli if he told them he was actually Rex Lapis. This was both a blessing and a curse.

Now they stood on the morning streets in front of the Adventurer’s Guild booth, facing an energetic young teenager with bandaids stuck all over his body.

“Hey there!” The white-haired young man grinned, giving a thumbs up, “This is your team? Cool... I like the vibe. I’m Bennet, leader of Benny’s Adventure Team. Katheryne told me that we’re going to be teaming up for the day?”

Next to Venti, Zhongli nodded, “Yes. You say that you are the leader of an adventurer team? Where are you teammates then?”

He saw Bennet winced a little. To his credit, the teen kept smiling, “Ah...haha, they’re all on leave right now. But that’s okay! We can have an epic adventure together!”

“He’s known throughout Mondstadt to be incredibly unlucky,” Venti used the wind to whisper in his friend’s ear, “It’s likely that his teammates have actually left the team, but didn’t tell him about that.”

Zhongli nodded, both to him and Bennet. “I see,” the former Emperor of Liyue showed a faint smile, extending his hand, “It is an honour to meet you then, young Bennet. I am Zhongli, and my friend here is Venti. Let us have a wonderful adventure together.”

Bennet looked slightly taken aback by his formality for a second, before he grinned widely and shook his hand vigorously, “Yes, let’s!”

Venti smiled at the Pyro-blessed teenager too. Secretly, he hoped that the rumours were only that—rumours.

It turned out that the rumours weren’t unfounded after all.

If anything, Venti had underestimated how unlucky Bennet was.

Their first commission was to look for a missing dog. Originally, Katheryne had given a cat-finding mission, but she changed it after Venti mentioned that he was allergic to cats. Thankfully, the receptionist understood and accommodated for him.

It wasn’t a glorious mission by far. Venti was certain that his friend was used to more illustrious pursuits, but Zhongli had nodded solemnly when Katheryne explained the details of the commission, as if he have been handed an important task. From what he knew of the God of Contracts, that might as well have been the case for him.

Bennet took the quest with far more exuberance than he expected from such a young, hot-blooded teen. Weren’t most adventurers his age dreaming of fighting a dragon or some such? Well, his enthusiasm made the two gods smile, in any case.

In fact, he was so excited, that he when he dashed out to meet the client, he somehow slipped on a puddle and fell flat on his face.

That wasn’t the end of it. When they were hanging up posters of the missing dog, the birds decided to poop on his head. Later, when they caught a glimpse of said dog, they tried to sneak up on it only for the teen to slip on a banana and crashed into a stall selling cooking utensils. The clangs of metal against stone alerted the dog, and it quickly ran away towards the fountain at the Main Plaza.

“I’m so sorry everyone!” Bennet cried out, bowing his head to the two gods incognito and the irate stall-owner, “I’ll be more careful next time!”

“That’s fine and all, but who’s gonna pay for the damages!” The merchant exclaimed, waving a dented pan, “Look at this! I can’t sell this anymore!”

Bennet deflated, fidgeting in place. Venti knew that most adventurers would generally be considered glorified errand runners, and so didn’t really make much of a living. Some of them do make it to the top and get lucrative commissions or find extraordinary treasures, but those were far and few in between. Considering Bennet’s  youth and luck, Venti wondered if the young boy even have enough to pay back the stall-owner.

Before the wind god could say anything however, Zhongli stated, “We’ll pay for it.”

He glanced at Venti, who sighed softly but nodded. Of course, what the broke God of Wealth really meant was that Venti would pay it. Well, in this case, Venti has nothing against that.

It’s a good thing Diluc pays me a lot.

While he didn’t entirely like the morning shifts the redhead generally assign him to, Venti had to admit that he paid a high salary. It came in handy when his friend do something ridiculous as buying an entire shop’s stock on impulse or paying for the damages of an incredibly unlucky adventurer.

After they (or rather, he) paid the merchants for the damages to his wares, Bennet looked at them with awe and gratefulness, “T-Thank you guys... Really, you didn’t have to do that for me...”

“Ah, don’t mention it!” Venti laughed, lightly punching the teen’s shoulder, “We’re a team, aren’t we?”

Bennet was still gaping at them, “Well, yes, b-but usually I pay for any damages I make by myself. It’s not fair for the others to have to pay for my bad luck...”

“Hmm, while I understand the point you’re making, I don’t necessarily agree with it,” Zhongli calmly disagreed, “As Venti said, we are a team. Thus, any expenses incurred by any one of us should also be shared with the rest.”

“Y-You guys...” Venti watched as Bennet blinked rapidly, before wiping his eyes with his arm. The white-haired teen grinned widely at them, “Thanks! I won’t let you down!”

Zhongli chuckled, “I’m sure you won’t.”

Venti bumped his shoulders against the teen’s, also grinning, “Yup!”

The dog they were chasing apparently crashed against the alchemy table near the Main Plaza, where Timaeus had been experimenting with some anemo dust he had grounded from crystalflies. The elemental dust coated the dog’s fur as a result, thankfully harmless since it was of little quantity. Using this knowledge, the trio decided to use their elemental sight to track down the animal.

They followed the dog’s teal tracks, going outside of Mondstadt’s gates, and all the way to the edges of the Whispering Woods northeast of Cider Lake. That was when the second misfortune occurred.

It was raining when they got to the woods. The rain washed away the traces of the anemo dust, making it impossible to track the dog using their elemental sight. Just as Venti was about to ask Zhongli to find the dog using his Geo powers, the sky crackled above them.

“Bennet!”

Lightning struck the earth. Venti lunged towards the white-haired boy, crashing into the ground with him. Mere centimetres from where the unlucky adventurer once stood, the ground burned and crackled from leftover electricity, before being doused by the downpour.

“Are you okay!?” Venti exclaimed, opening his eyes to look at the teen beneath him. He noticed that the world was tinted a bit brownish-gold at the edges, and that he couldn’t feel the rain pouring down on them. When he glanced up, he saw that they were surrounded by Zhongli’s jade shield.

“Augh...yeah...” Bennet groaned, sitting up. Venti quickly stood up and extended a hand, pulling the young adventurer up, “Thanks for that. I would have been struck by lightning againif it weren’t for you two.”

“You’ve been struck by lightning before!?” Venti almost shouted, looking at the boy with wide eyes. Zhongli approached them, his gaze also concerned.

“Yeah, but it’s okay!” Bennet shrugged it off, laughing, “I’m still alive, after all! How lucky is that?”

“Very,” Zhongli commented, though his mouth was tugged down into a small frown. Venti knew that he was as worried for this mortal boy as he was.

“Yup!” Bennet cheered, “Anyway, thanks for saving me! Now we gotta get back to the quest!”

And just like that—as if his life wasn’t in grave danger mere moments ago—the young adventurer went back to looking for a dog.

After he left, Zhongli asked him, “Are all Mondstadt’s adventurer’s like that?”

“Extremely unlucky? No,” Venti answered, “Reckless and seemingly carefree? Well... yes, but even then there’s some limits...”

“Hmm,” his friend mused, brows furrowed in concern, “That boy was born under an extremely unfortunate star.”

Venti tried to laugh, though he thought that it ended up more like a weak chuckle, “Yeah, he was...”

The dog, as it turned out, had been captured by hilichurls.

Thankfully, the rain had given way to a sunny sky. Zhongli had dismissed his jade shield shortly after the rain let up, and was now crouching behind a bush alongside Venti and Bennet. The trio looked at the hilichurl camp warily.

As gods, clearing out a single camp of hilichurls was merely child’s play for Venti and Zhongli. However, since Bennet was here they have to be careful and downplay their abilities to the level of mortals. Venti was used to doing so, but he knew he have to keep an eye on his friend to make sure that Zhongli did so as well.

For all that he could be a master actor, Zhongli could be such an idiot sometimes. Most of the tales about Rex Lapis strolling through the streets of Liyue didn’t came about because Zhongli intended it to, but because the blockhead didn’t know subtlety if it hit him in the head. Sure, when it came to his plots and machinations, he was every bit the cunning God of Contracts one expected Morax to be, but when it came to his personal life as Zhongli, Venti knew from experience that his friend was a dumbass.

It was, Venti noted, one of Zhongli’s strange quirks. For all that he was a humble, unassuming gentleman, he was also the proud, powerful Geo Archon and Warrior God; and for all that he was blunt, blundering buffoon, he was also the cunning and calculating God of Contracts. It was a fascinating, sometimes amusing, dichotomy.

This was one of the many, many reasons why Venti loved him.

“There are 5 hilichurls. Two are positioned on the right and left, while one is by a pot with a fire slime,” He listened to Zhongli as the earth god quietly observed the camp, “And there’s a mitachurl with a wooden shield that sits by the main tent, while a samachurl is observing the fire slimes in the pot.”

“Venti, you gather all the hilichurls and samachurl to one spot with your wind,” Zhongli planned, easily falling back to his experience as a War God, “After that, Bennet can use his flames to cause an elemental reaction. Meanwhile, I’ll deal with the mitachurl. Do we agree to this plan?”

Both he and Bennet nodded. Zhongli smiled faintly, “Excellent, then on three...”

The plan worked for a few minutes, before it went terribly wrong.

As planned, Venti summoned a burst of whirlwind around the rightmost hilichurls, dashing through the camp and shooting at the rest. Bennet followed closed behind, cutting through the enemies’ arrows with his Pyro-infused blade. When Venti got into position behind the samachurl, he quickly aimed his bow and gathered Anemo energy into his arrow.

“Hehe...” He winked, grinning at the surprised samachurl, “Time for takeoff!”

His arrow shot past the samachurl, exploding right behind it in a burst of wind. The gales coalesced into an orb—akin to a Stormeye that often wandered these plains—and sucked all objects and enemies around it. The samachurl and hilichurls shrieked as they were sucked into the windy vortex.

“Out of the way!” Bennet shouted, smashing the ground beneath the vortex with a charged Pyro attack. That was when everything started going wrong.

Venti gaped as the ground in front of him exploded, launching Bennet into the air. The explosion triggered the elemental reaction they had hoped for—the rapid winds swirling with fire to create a fiery vortex that burned their enemies to cinders—but Venti didn’t pay attention to that. He could only watch, shocked, as Bennet was knocked back by his own attack and crashed onto the mitachurl Zhongli was fighting.

“Aaah!” Bennet yelled, smashing against the mitachurl’s wooden shield. The mitachurl growled, throwing him to the ground, before fiercely swinging its shield down onto the fallen teen.

“Bennet!” A burst of gold-Geo followed a rain of spears, and suddenly Zhongli was there, blocking the blow with his jade shield. He quickly glanced at him, “Are you alright?”

“Ugh... yeah...” Bennet groaned, pushing himself up, “That’s gonna hurt in the morning...”

Venti shot Anemo-charged arrows at the mitachurl, distracting it from them. The mitachurl roared, brushing off his attacks easily, before rushing towards him. Venti quickly dashed to the side, barely dodging the attack.

“Stay back,” Zhongli ordered Bennet, summoning his jade shield around the boy, “You’ll be safe as long as you’re behind this shield.”

Pinpricks of visible Geo energy floated up around his bruises, slowly healing the teenager. Bennet, however, frowned, “But I...”

Zhongli didn’t listen to him, running towards the mitachurl. With a grunt, he stabbed his spear forward, the force of the blow enough to pierce through the thick wood. All it did was make the monster angry though, causing it to swing its shield to the side and tossing the disguised Geo Archon aside, his spear still stuck on the wood.

If Bennet wasn’t here, then they could easily beat this mitachurl on their own. Since they were pretending to be mortals, however, they must deliberately lower their martial capabilities.

Zhongli caught himself before he crashed onto the ground, turning the momentum into a roll that ended with a slide; his knee scuffing the ground as he faced the mitachurl. A small frown flickered across his face.

So concentrated was he on the monster, that he didn’t notice the white-haired teenager rushing in.

Bennet, unable to stand back and do nothing, charged, raising his flaming sword high above him. It arced through the air, before he slammed it on the ground again, causing another burst of flames, “Sorry, but I’m going in!”

The field around him caught on fire, threatening to burn him and the mitachurl. It wasn’t, however, enough to bring the monster down. Instead, it growled, bringing its fist down onto the teen in front of it.

Venti swooped in, summoning the wind form a whirlwind beneath the monster’s feet. It wasn’t enough to toss the heavy monster up, but it did staggered it, and the flames that swirled with the gales caught onto the mitachurl’s fur. Bennet, seeing his chance, swung his sword again, completely destroying the mitachurl’s wooden shield.

“GRAAUGHH!!!”

Roaring, the mitachurl swung its fist, punching Bennet on the chest. Blood spurted out of his mouth as the boy was knocked out of the fiery field. Venti quickly caught him with his wind, setting the nearly unconscious boy on the ground.

“Oh Celestia!” Venti exclaimed, rushing towards him and quickly checking his injuries. He swiftly knelt down, cradling the teen’s head, “Bennet, are you okay! Answer me!?”

“Ugh...” Was all that the young adventurer could say, eyes scrunched shut in pain, “Sorry... I got in... the way...”

“Hey, hey! Don’t apologise!” Venti frantically assured him, carefully bringing his hand up to his chest to check the damage. The Anemo Archon winced, feeling the many broken ribs, “If you’re sorry, then stay alive!”

“O...kay...”

The boy fainted then. Venti poured some of his energy into him, healing his injuries as best as he could. His other hand was frantically digging through his bag, looking for bandages and healing potions.

Behind him, the mitachurl roared. Venti scowled, almost forgetting the threat that nearly killed one of his people. He summoned his bow and turned, ready to shoot it dead, when—

“Fall.”

It was only a single word, a single command, but that was all it took for a large meteor to come crashing down onto the earth on the Lord of Geo’s command.

The mitachurl shrieked, disintegrating into dust immediately. Naught remained but ashes, which was quickly swept away by the wind. Venti looked up, and saw his friend’s glowing gold eyes.

“Is he alright?” Zhongli asked, quickly running up to his side.

“Unconscious, but still alive,” Venti told him, lifting the boy up. Now that the boy was unconscious, there was no need to hide his strength, “Come on, we need to get him to my Statue!”

Zhongli nodded, and the two swiftly disappeared in a gust of wind and stone.

In times of yore, people often left offerings and prayers by the Statues of the Seven, believing that it was in front of their stone likeness that the Archons could hear their prayers best.

There were some truth in that. As Archons, he and Zhongli was able to see and hear everything that went on around the vicinities of their Statues, and could even channel their powers and blessings through it to a certain extent. Over the centuries though, as less and less people came by to offer their prayers, the Statues, too, slowly lost its powers.

Now the fragments of the Statues’ powers were lost, scattered across the lands as elemental oculi.

(A certain Traveller have been going around and offering up the lost oculi to his and Zhongli’s Statues though, reinstating the powers it had lost over the years.)

The nearest Statue was in the middle of Starfell Lake, so that was where he and Zhongli went.

Venti carefully lowered Bennet down in front of his Statue. Furrowing his brows, he touched the base of his Statue and channeled his power through it. Although he could channel his power directly into Bennet, it was much easier and safer to do so through a medium. Plus, doing it like this would allow him to keep up his disguise a mortal. When Bennet woke up (and he would, if Venti has anything to say about that) then he could claim that the teen was saved by Barbatos’ grace.

That was, technically, the truth after all.

A teal glow surrounded the boy; pure Anemo energy swirling gently around him. Slowly, the various wounds that littered the teen’s skin closed up, healed by the powers of Mondstadt’s patron god. When Venti finished healing as much as he could, he sighed, shoulders slumping as the teal glow dissipated.

“Are you alright?” Zhongli asked him quietly, standing still beside him.

Venti nodded from where he knelt next to the teen, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just been a while since I last do this. It’s a bit... harder... without my Gnosis.”

Normally, the respective elemental energies of the Seven Archons were pooled into their Statues, slowly collecting the natural energies around it. In olden times, believers of the Seven were able to tap into this pools of energy with their prayers, healing them without their Archons’ direct presence being necessary. This knowledge—like most other knowledge—had slowly faded away with the passing of time.

Lumine was able to figure it out, though, when she first touched his Statue. Venti knew that she had been periodically checking up on his and Zhongli’s Statues throughout her adventurers, quietly asking them to heal her. He should probably teach this knowledge to Bennet too, just in case.

“Ughh...” He heard a groan. Looking down, Venti saw Bennet slowly stirring awake, “Ouch... everything hurts...”

“Bennet!” Venti exclaimed, carefully hugging the boy, “You okay?”

“Really sore...” Bennet groaned, somehow able to smile through the pain, “But I’m still alive. That’s pretty lucky, right?”

Just as Venti was about to—agree or admonish or something—Zhongli cut in, “What you did was foolish.”

Venti turned, about to berate his friend for his insensitivity, before he saw the look on the older god’s face. Zhongli’s face was set in a frown, arms crossed over his chest, “I told you to stand behind the shield. You would have been safe there. Why did you rush in instead?”

“I...” Bennet looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket, “I can’t stand around doing nothing. It’s not right that you two keep doing all the real work while I mess up...”

“Be as it may, you could have easily lost your life,” Zhongli admonished, never raising his voice, “You are young yet, why do your rush towards death?”

“It’s not like I want to die or anything!” Bennet protested, “I really don’t! If I die, who’ll look after my dads?”

Then, the boy turned quiet, “But... adventurers shouldn’t be afraid of death. That’s what I think, anyway. For an adventurer, a ‘good death’ comes at the end of life given to the pursuit of treasure and the secrets of the world. Afterwards, our souls will be brought back to our homeland by Lord Barbatos.”

The young adventurer looked up at Vent’s Statue, eyes going soft as his lips curved into a small smile. Venti looked away, curling his fingers over his shorts.

“Then, would you consider your earlier brush with death a ‘good death’?” Zhongli asked, “We were simply looking for a dog, not a grand treasure or any of the world’s secrets. If you die here, no one will sing songs of your deeds.”

Venti glared at him, but stayed silent, knowing that his friend has a point. He just wished that the rockhead could word it tactfully.

“I...”

With more care than he expected, Zhongli gently told the young adventurer, “Every journey has its final day. Don’t rush.”

Bennet nodded, eyes welling up with tears. Venti sighed, patting the boy’s shoulder, “My friend here was a little too blunt, but I agree with him. You should take care of yourself too.”

“Didn’t you say that you have your dads to take care of?” Venti softly pointed out, “If you die here, who’ll take care of them?”

“Y-Yeah, you’re right,” Bennet quietly agreed, sniffling, “I can’t die here! I want to go on more adventures, see more of the world and find the most valuable treasure there is! Then... my dads can have a better life, and Mondstadt’s Adventurer’s Guild will be back in business!”

Despite the seriousness of his brush against death, Venti couldn’t help but smile. Such passion and love for adventure... he could see why Bennet gained a Pyro Vision.

“Then you have to live, okay?” Venti patted his head, “Can’t be a great adventurer if you die, after all.”

“Yeah, I will!”

Before they left Starfell Lake, Venti told him about the Statues of the Seven’s powers.

Wide-eyed, Bennet grinned and exclaimed, “That’s really cool! So Lord Barbatos really did save me!”

Venti chuckled, a little sheepish, “Yeah, you can say that.”

“This works with the other Statues of the Seven too,” Zhongli explained further, “So if you are ever injured in Liyue, you can go to Rex Lapis’ Statue and ask for his blessing.”

“Cool! I’ll totally do that!” Bennet replied, “By the way, how do you two know so much about the Statues anyway?”

“Ah...” Zhongli trailed off. Venti quickly covered for him.

“As you know, I’m a wandering bard. I’ve picked up a lot of old folklore and legends from all over the world,” Venti answered, “Meanwhile, my friend here is something of a history buff. He knows practically everything about Liyue... though not that much about the rest of the world, hahaha!”

Next to him, Zhongli gave him a flat stare. Venti smiled at him, unrepentant.

“I see... Maybe someday you can tell me more about your adventures?” Bennet asked, eyes shining with interest, “I love to hear stories of adventures in faraway lands.”

“Sure!” Venti agreed easily, “But let’s get back to that camp for now. We need to return that dog, after all.”

“Right, right!” Bennet laughed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head, “Almost forgot about that...”

Before they left the lake though, the young adventurer turned to face Venti’s Statue. The two gods stood back, watching as the mortal bowed before the Statue and brought his hands up to a prayer. Although his words were but a murmur in the breeze, Venti could hear it as if Bennet was speaking directly to him.

“Thank you so much for saving me, Lord Barbatos. I promise I won’t waste this life you saved.”

Venti smiled, heart fluttering with relief. He hoped that Bennet has learned a little from his adventure today and would become less reckless in the future.

After all, one day, he would like to sing ballads about him.

They picked up the dog from the hilichurl camp. It had been tied over an unlit fire pit, presumably for the hilichurls’ meal. Thankfully, nothing happened to it while they were at Starfell Lake.

It barked happily when they untied it, licking generously at Bennet’s face when the white-haired teenager picked it up.

“He, hey! Hahaha, stop that!” Bennet laughed, pulling away from the dog’s eager tongue. He patted the excited dog, “Awww, aren’t you cute. Were you afraid, little doggie? Don’t worry, we’re here now and—ah!”

Venti winced, stepping back a little as the dog peed on Bennet’s jacket.

“That’s... um, well, okay!” Bennet laughed awkwardly, “I can always just wash it off. The important thing is that you’re okay and we’re gonna get you back home!”

In the boy’s arms, the dog shamelessly wagged its tail. Well, at least their little adventure today ended on a happy note!

Chapter Text

After a quick trip to a nearby stream, the trio returned to Mondstadt. Luckily, no more misfortune struck Bennet, and they were able to safely go to the Adventurer’s Guild without any further troubles.

The sun was setting when they delivered the dog to Katheryne, who promised to contact its owner in the morning. They were then given their rewards for the commission, with an added bonus given, since they had to clear out a hilichurl camp to rescue the dog. Zhongli thought that was fair, and received his payments without complaint.

“Today was a great day!” Bennet cheered, stretching his arms over his head. He grinned at them, “Thanks for adventuring with me. It’s been a while since I last went on an adventure with someone else.”

“You’re welcome!” The earth god saw Venti smiled back, “It was fun adventuring with you. Uh, besides the near-death experience...”

“Yeah, hahaha...” Bennet chuckled nervously, “I’ll try to make sure that doesn’t happen again...”

“If you like, perhaps we should do this again sometime?” Zhongli offered, shocking the teen.

Bennet’s jaw dropped, “Are—are you sure? You saw how unlucky I was, and you want to team up with me again.”

“Yes,” Zhongli nodded, silently adding, Mostly so that you won’t accidentally get yourself killed.

The boy grinned, so bright and hopeful, like a firework at the apex of its blossoming before it swiftly disappeared into the night. He couldn’t help but recall Guizhong’s words: “Those little people are as small and fragile as dust.”

She had told him this, long, long ago: “Because they are so small, they know not when they will lose their lives to disaster or strife, and so they are afraid. Because they are afraid, they try so hard to become more intelligent. This I understand."

He thought that, maybe, he was slowly starting to understand her words.

“Alright!” Bennet whooped, punching a fist into the air, “We make a great team. Thanks again for today!”

“Thank you too!” Venti replied, waving as he left.

Zhongli watched the boy ran down the street—presumably to one of his fathers—still so spirited and eager despite his near-death experience. This one burned with a love for adventure so bright, his soul shone like gold in the God of Wealth’s eyes. It would be a shame to see him die so young.

Smiling faintly to himself, he wondered what Guizhong would say to him about this. He looked forward to finding out.

After they have bid farewell to the young adventurer, Zhongli asked if Venti wanted to visit Guizhong with him.

For regular mortals, a trip to Liyue and back would take at least a week or two. For the two Gods of Geo and Anemo however, it was only a matter of moments.

An indecipherable look flashed across the other god’s face for the briefest of moments, before the wind god shook his head with a smile, “Nah, you go on ahead. I gotta go check up on Dvalin.”

“If you say so,” Zhongli replied, not thinking much about it. Dvalin was recently corrupted by the Abyss Order, after all. It only made sense that Venti was worried about him, “Please pass on my regards to him.”

Venti nodded, laughing softly, “Okay, I will!”

He left after that, ducking into the closest, empty alley and dissipating into a gentle breeze. Zhongli frowned slightly, Did his laughter sounded a little...strained?

He wondered if perhaps things were a bit more serious than he thought. When he last visited Dvalin for his help in fixing the Holy Lyre, Zhongli couldn’t sense anything wrong with him. The dragon seemed to be free from any corruption or abyssal taint, conversing with Zhongli with his usual pleasantness. Still, for Venti to seem so worried...

Maybe I should check up on him too.

Briefly, he thought of Azhdaha, guilt and regret welling up as he thought of the mountain dragon that was sealed beneath the great tree near Nantianmen. If he could prevent what happened then from happening again; if a dragon could live peacefully with men and gods...

Well, there was no changing the past. As much as he regretted, the only thing he could do was live on.

Guizhong was in her usual disguise as an old woman when he arrived at Yujing Terrace. She sat by her small corner of the wealthy estates, surrounded by glaze lilies. When she looked up from her teacup, their eyes locked and she smiled at him.

He smiled back, pleased to see her again.

“You came back later than I thought,” she laughed softly, “Are you settling in comfortably in your new life in Mondstadt?”

He sat across her, nodding, “Yes. Life is quite pleasant there in the Land of Wind.”

“That’s good to hear. Liyue is also doing fine in your absence,” she replied, setting a cup before him and pouring tea for him. By its scent, Zhongli identified it as chrysanthemum tea, “Where’s Venti? Isn’t he with you?”

Zhongli raised the cup to his lips, lightly blowing it, “He’s checking up on Dvalin. I suspect that he’s still worried about the lingering effects of the Abyss Order’s influence on him.”

“Oh my, I hope he’ll be alright,” Guizhong murmured.

“Last time we met, Dvalin seemed fine,” Zhongli reassured her, “Perhaps Venti is just a little too concerned. The Stormterror Incident was quite recent, after all.”

She nodded, “Yes, perhaps that’s the reason.”

They sat in silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s presence and the view of the sunset. Zhongli quietly sighed, relaxing. As he drank his tea, Guizhong suddenly asked:

“So...” She grinned a familiar mischievous smirk that often heralded headaches for Zhongli, “Have you two kissed yet?”

“Ack—!” Zhongli nearly choked on his tea. His friend laughed, and he shot her a glare, still coughing over the table. Knowing her, she did this on purpose.

“How many times do I have to tell you that we’re just friends?” he insisted, putting the teacup down, “Venti isn’t interested in me like that. I thought you know better than to assume, given our history.”

She didn’t even flinch, “It’s because of our history that I support you two together!”

In the past, back when they had just became allies, their people saw how well they worked together and how friendly they acted around each other. She never hesitated to call him out on his actions, despite the obvious power gap between them. In return, he always looked out for her, making sure she was safe and comfortable; and that she was able to create as much experiments and inventions as she wanted.

Because of this, their people assumed that the two gods have fallen in love with each other, calling them a couple. Back then, neither of he nor Guizhong had much experience in romance, and so they thought that the love they felt towards each other was of the romantic variety. They even went so far as to use a portmanteau of their mortal names to name the Guili Plains.

To put long story short, it was awkward.

Their easy camaraderie became stilted and nervous; the casual touches they shared became sparse. Zhongli remembered long periods of time when Guizhong would distance herself from him, feeling too awkward to talk to him as lovers do. It was only after he confronted her in her labs did she confess that she couldn’t keep up with the burdens expected from maintaining a romantic relationship.

Zhongli remembered feeling so relieved when he heard that.

Ironically, it was only after they ‘broke up’—as mortals put it—did they finally kissed and slept with each other.

Now, in the present, Zhongli frowned, “I don’t understand. Why do you keep insisting that Venti and I will make a good couple? You remember how strained our friendship had become when our people assumed that we should be lovers simply because we get along well.”

“I know. I remember it well,” Guizhong replied, “But it’s different with Venti. Do you remember what you said to me after your first meeting with him, high up on that mountain? How you looked when you talked about him?”

Zhongli tilted his head, remembering that night. Shortly after his meeting with the newly-crowned Anemo Archon, he had met with Guizhong on Mount Aozang. He had showed her the wine bottle he received from the new Anemo Archon, and told her of the God of Freedom’s ideals.

“You looked so entranced when you talked to me about him back then,” she told him, “I can scarcely believe it. A total stranger—who you only conversed with for a few hours at best—was able to make you smile and talk about him for hours!”

He coughed, the tips of his ears turning red, “I... don’t recall doing that.”

“That’s because you were too into it to really remember the details,” Guizhong teased, laughing at him, “Tell me, do you remember what and why you fought so hard during the Archon War?”

“It was for Liyue,” he answered immediately, “For...”

Memories of Havria popped up, how her kindness and gentleness meant nothing in the face of war and how easily she died by the hands of those she sought to protect. It was quickly replaced with memories of Venti, who sang for both him and his people, even though he had no obligations to. He remembered thinking how easy it would be crush this little wisp of a god; how easy it would be for such kindness and gentleness to be ruined in the face of slaughter.

Guizhong smiled kindly, “Contracts are important to you, but why do you value them so much? It’s because they are a means to an end. And what is that end, my friend?”

“Peace and prosperity,” Zhongli replied instantly, “I simply want the people of Liyue to be able to lead happy, fulfilling lives.”

“Right,” she nodded, “And what are the things necessary for that?”

He thought that he saw what she was leading to, “First and foremost is order, formed by contracts both explicit and implicit. After that is...”

“Freedom.”

She finished for him, “The contracts you made with the citizens of Liyue set the foundation of the laws that came after. But contracts alone is not enough. If one is too bound to their contracts, then it becomes nothing more than a shackle. You have experienced this yourself, no?”

Zhongli grimaced. Yes, that was true.

“Thus, freedom is also necessary. The freedom to set aside one’s duties, the freedom to live as you like, the freedom to express yourself without fear of repercussions. All of that is necessary for the happy, fulfilling life that you wished for the people of Liyue...and yourself.”

“You told me that when you two first met, he said this: ‘Earth provides the foundation for life, while the wind moves it. So too is the foundation of freedom—the kind of freedom which allows everyone to be happy—made out of contracts.’.”

“No wonder you fell in love with him,” Guizhong concluded, smiling gently at him, “He embodies everything that you wish to protect and longed to have.”

“With us, we were both young and inexperienced back then. Neither of us had much romantic experience, so we went along with our people’s assumptions,” she pointed out, “It’s different now, though. We’ve both grown and experienced more things since then, and now we can recognise what we feel by ourselves. You, yourself, were the one who came to me and told me that you’re in love with him.”

Now his face was red, burning from embarrassment. In front of him, Guizhong chuckled softly. He looked at his reflection in his teacup, noting that his flustered appearance looked completely different from the usual calm, collected composure expected of him as the Geo Archon.

“That...is correct...” He coughed, averting his gaze from his friend’s too sharp eyes. There was no point in lying; Guizhong knew him far too well, “But be as that may, he does not reciprocate my feelings. It’s better then that we remain friends.”

What they have right now was better than the awful awkwardness of a forced relationship, or the heartbreak that followed rejection.

(Or at least that was what Zhongli believed.)

“Zhongli...” She sighed, shaking her head, “Ah, I can tell you over and over that he’s in love with you too, but you won’t believe me, will you? You are such a stubborn rockhead...”

He laughed a little at the familiar, endearing insult. Hearing it, his friend also chuckled, the corners of her lips lifting up slightly. Just like that, the tensed atmosphere dissolved.

As the moon rose to its peak, they quietly drank their tea.

It didn’t end there, however.

She tilted her head, peering at him carefully, “Hmm...I can tell that isn’t the only thing bothering you. Is there something else wrong?”

He smiled wryly, “I learnt that one should check out one’s future accomodations before agreeing to anything.”

“...What happened?”

“Well...” Zhongli trailed off, muttering quickly, “We kind of...have to share one bed.”

“What!?”As expected, his friend exclaimed, “You two fell for that ‘And there’s only one bed!’ trope? I thought that only happens in novels or operas!?”

“It turns out that it can happen in real life,” he replied dryly.

“Hahaha!” Guizhong laughed, poking him, “No wonder you seemed so frustrated! Worried about what you wake up to? Or what you love wakes up to?”

His face turned red again, “It’s not like that.”

“Oho! That means it is like that!” Guizhong, curse her, knew him far too well. She grinned, “Want to fuck?”

Thankfully, he wasn’t drinking tea or else he would have choked on it again, “What!?”

“You heard me, or did you suddenly lost your hearing in your old age?”

Zhongli coughed, “There was no need to put it so crudely.”

“Being blunt is the only way to get through that rock head of yours,” Guizhong replied frankly, “Anything else will just bounce right off.”

“...”

That was... well, it wasn’t untrue. Zhongli couldn’t say that, however. Nor could he bring himself to say that she was right.

Somehow, he was able to avoid the more embarrassing dreams so far, and with Venti’s morning shifts, he was able to get some privacy in their apartment. He didn’t know for how long his luck would hold, hower.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” She teased, smirking.

Sometimes, he wished that his friend couldn’t read him so well, “...Yes.”

Guizhong checked their surroundings. After she was certain that nobody was around, she dismissed her disguise of an old woman and returned to her usual form of a highborn lady. Then, she opened her teapot, tilting it towards him “So...?”

There was nothing else to it. With a sigh, Zhongli entered her domain.

Later, after they have finished, a half-dragon Zhongli laid on his stomach on Guizhong’s plush bed, arms hugging a particularly fluffy pillow. His long hair was unbound, covering his back. He was completely naked save for the blanket that went up to his waist.

“Feeling better?” Guizhong asked, propping herself up on her elbows. She poked at his side, almost childishly so. Like him, she was also naked and covered only by a blanket.

“Yes,” his reply was muffled by the pillow he was hugging, “Thank you.”

“Good to hear,” she casually stretched her arms out, working out any kinks or soreness, “You were quite pent up. Guess this has been on the back of your mind for a while?”

“...Maybe.”

“Hmm...” She tilted her head, poking his golden horns, “You still look like there’s something on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?”

He peeked at her with one amber eye, “It’s not that important...”

“Sure it’s not,” Guizhong’s tone was skeptical, “Wait right here.”

Zhongli turned his head, watching as she bent down and picked up the nearest clothing—his dress shirt. She quickly put it on and buttoned it down, before swiftly leaving the room. He sighed, closing his eyes and relaxing on the bed.

Seeing her wear his clothes did nothing to him. He knew that she only did so because it was the closest article of clothing; if her robes were nearer, then she would have worn that. More importantly, neither of them were interested in each other romantically. Sex between them was simply a means to comfort the other and show intimacy, or release pent up frustration.

Honestly, the familiarity and platonic love they share were more comforting to both of them than the sex itself. He could admit to himself, though, that there was something comforting in knowing that they could do such intimate acts without being weighed down by the connotations such actions often imply.

Sometimes, Zhongli wondered how it would feel to do it with someone he loved romantically again. It had been so, so long since he last loved someone like that, that he wondered if it would it feel the same or if there would be any differences?

Not that he dared dwell on such thoughts for long, however.

A few minutes passed before Zhongli felt the bed dipping. Turning his head, he saw Guizhong sitting down, carrying with her two large tubs of—

“Is that ice cream from Inazuma?” He pushed himself up, copper tail curving around himself. He still hugged the fluffy pillow to his chest.

“Yes,” she smiled, handing him one tub of ice cream and a spoon. She sat crossed-legged in front of him, “Nothing better than eating ice cream straight from its container during a sleepover, right?”

Zhongli chuckled, pulling the lid open, “Yes.”

When he saw its contents, he raised a brow, amused, “Rocky Road, really?”

She laughed, eating a scoop of her cotton candy ice cream, “Of course, what better flavour for the Lord of Geo himself?”

When others call him the Lord of Geo, it was with reverence befitting of a god. When she (and Venti) called him that, it was with the playful familiarity that turned insults into endearments.

He laughed alongside her, allowing himself to fully relax. Zhongli had missed this; he had missed her. Now, if only Venti was also here, then it would be perfect...

Although, would he have to explain to him why he was naked and Guizhong was only wearing his shirt?

...No, there was no need. They told him of the true nature of their relationship before, he was certain. After all, they have known each other for over two thousands years. Surely the topic must have been brought up at one point?

“So...” his friend smiled, leaning forward, “What’s on your mind?”

He placed his chin on top of the pillow he was hugging to his chest, “Hmm...where do I begin...?”

First, he told her about the Holy Lyre der Himmel.

“You fixed his original lyre?” She grinned, almost squealing, “That’s so sweet!”

“It was nothing but a selfish whim. I just wanted to see him bask in the praise of his people...and also smile because of me,” Zhongli burrowed half his face in his pillow, the fabric muffling his voice, “Something strange happened, however. For some reason, Andrius, Dvalin, and Vennessa all congratulated me for something.”

“Hahaha, of course they would do so,” Guizhong laughed, “They probably thought that you two are finally together.”

He hid his blush in his pillow, “Is it really that obvious?”

“Very,” his friend stated, scooping another spoon of ice cream.

“Ugh...” He groaned. If even the Four Winds knew of his feelings for Venti, then Venti must know it too. The fact that he continued to treat him no differently than a friend meant that he truly wasn’t interested in Zhongli, “This reminds me of what Carol said...”

“Carol? Who’s that?”

The second thing he told her was about his newfound human friend, Carol.

When he finished recounting how he helped her run her stall, she put her ice cream to the side and hugged him. He yelped a little, but Guizhong cheered, “Your first real human friend, congratulations!”

“Ah, thanks...” Zhongli smiled, a little sheepish, “We just happened to meet though...”

“Fufufu, that’s fine. No, that’s great,” she grinned at him, letting go just enough for him to see her smile, “How did that saying go? ‘It takes hundreds of rebirths to bring two persons to ride in the same boat; it takes a thousand eons to bring two persons to share the same pillow’. The fact that you two met and hit it off is amazing!”

Ah yes, that was the old Liyuean saying about yuanfen, or ‘fateful coincidences’ in the Common Tongue. It was a concept that described the good and bad chances of potential relationships. To put it simply, there were millions of people living in Teyvat, therefore the chances of any two people meeting was astronomically small. Thus, to be able to meet at all, and then realised they have enough common interests to become friends was a miracle.

(He thought of Guizhong and their fateful meeting in that field of glaze lilies; how he didn’t think much of it until he looked back and realised how much it had changed his life. He thought about being able to meet Venti at all, who despite being a mere wind wisp managed to rose to the position of Archon. If he had fallen in the battle against Decarabian, Zhongli would have never even realised what he had lost.)

In a way, when one thought about it, every meeting was a miracle.

He smiled at her, hugging her back, “Yes, it is amazing.”

Zhongli told her about all the other things too:

He told her how their room looked like; how it was small but homey, and the flowers that decorated their windowsill came from both of their lands. He described to her the pillows and blankets they bought, and the food they usually cooked for breakfast and dinner. He told her about how Venti sang to the dawn every morning, and described how he felt when he heard the words ‘Welcome home’ and ‘I’m home’.

He recounted his meetings with the people of Mondstadt; how Diluc was a sharp and able businessman, while Jean was a dutiful and dedicated knight. He discussed his conversation with Seamus about the Seneschal’s god in the cathedral, and the invitations Carol freely offered to him with a smile. He recounted to her the love the people of Mondstadt held towards the Anemo Archon Barbatos.

He spoke to her about the invitation to the Pearl Galley and everything that followed after it; how he made a plan on the spot to further end an era. He explained the contract he made with Kliment and Wanyan, and how both of them failed to uphold their ends of the agreement. He spoke to her about Venti’s reaction when he told him what the punishment he would face if he ever break a contract with him, and how the wind god easily accepted it with a smile.

Zhongli told her all of this and more.

As the hours passed, the tubs of ice cream slowly became empty. Outside of Guizhong’s teapot domain, the moon was more than halfway through its descent.

Yet still, the Archaic Lord found that there were still more things to tell.

The last thing he told her was about the young adventurer, Bennet.

“He is the unluckiest person I have ever met,” Zhongli stated, “And I have lived for over six thousand years.”

“Wow, it’s that bad?” Guizhong asked, cuddling closer. They have moved from sitting to laying lazily on the bed, embracing each other. There were no deeper meaning in this action though, than simply comfort.

“Very,” Zhongli answered, idly wrapping his draconic tail over her, “He almost died but he didn’t even looked fazed. If anything, I would say that he seemed used to it.”

“That’s...actually quite sad.”

“Indeed,” he sighed, putting his chin on top of her head, “That was why I offered to team up with him again. Celestia knows that his luck might just get himself killed.”

“Yeah,” Guizhong nodded, “Have you thought of making a lucky charm for him?”

“Hmm, no. Now that you mentioned it though, perhaps I should,” Zhongli mused, before adding, “But there’s something else, actually, that I want to mention.”

“Oh?”

He pulled away just far enough to look her in the eye, “You once told me that humans are like dust, so small and fragile. They do not know when they will lose their lives to disaster or strife, and so they are afraid. Because of this fear, they try so hard to become more intelligent.”

“I...I think I understand it a little bit better now,” Zhongli tried to explain, searching his mind for the words he needed to describe what he felt and thought when he saw Bennet smiled happily at the end of the day, even though the boy nearly died earlier, “Human lives are so short compared to ours, but they can burn so beautifully and brightly, like a firework before it disappears into the night sky.”

“Just because the firework is gone however, doesn’t mean it didn’t leave something behind. The memory of its beauty remains. The firework itself may not be eternal, but that doesn’t mean it was pointless or meaningless.”

“But everything else... I still don’t understand,” Zhongli admitted, “How does fear and intelligence factor into this?”

Guizhong smiled at him, chuckling softly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out someday,” she assured him, “After all, you’ve finally figured out the first step.”

“Hmm, and it only took me three thousand years,” he quietly laughed.

She giggled, “Maybe in another three thousand years you’ll figure out the second part, and another three thousand to solve the last one. Hah, it might take you an entire six thousand years to finally unlock that puzzle I gave you.”

He chuckled, drawing her closer, “I hope not. But if I do, then you’ll be there when I complete it, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Guizhong agreed easily, “What will you do without me for six thousand years, hmm?”

“Hahaha, I hope I never have to find out...”

Before they drifted off to sleep, Guizhong asked him this:

“Won’t Venti wonder why you didn’t come home tonight?”

He shrugged, “He knows that I’m with you. He’ll probably think that I spent the night over.”

“Hmm,” Guizhong mused, “Think he’ll be jealous?”

Zhongli huffed a quick laugh, “Of what? He knows that you and I aren’t lovers.”

“Ah, that’s right,” she nodded, “We’ve told him about that, haven’t we?”

“We’ve known each other for over two thousand years,” he reassured her, “I’m sure the topic has come up before.”

“You’re right,” Guizhong yawned, “Then good night, Zhongli...”

He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead, “Good night, Guizhong.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” With one eye opened, she grinned, “While I understand that you’re in love with him, please try not to moan out Venti’s name while you’re sleeping.”

“Guizhong.”

That grin turned into a mischievous smirk, “It’s normal to have wet dreams about your crush, but it’s a bit awkward for me to wake up to my best friend dreaming about my other best friend, you know?”

“Good night, Guizhong.”

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, the wind drifted across a snow-swept land.

In many ways, it reminded the wind of the land he came from. Mondstadt, too, was once nothing more than a frozen, mountainous region before the then-newly crowned Anemo Archon transformed the land with a song. Now, it was a plain of grassy green fields, where the people laughed and danced happily with the breeze.

In many ways though, it was different from the land Mondstadt had been.

The people seemed more or less content with living in this snowy country. Life was harsh, but they made do, and found their own joy in the frigid weather. Praises spilled from their lips of their Archon, the one they called the Tsaritsa.

One day, the Lord of Anemo visited this snowy land, and found a girl amidst the snow.

This was the new Cryo Archon, long before a certain cataclysm revealed to her the truths of the world and embittered her. This was her then: pure and gentle like the snow that gently danced upon the wind.

To her, the Lord of Anemo asked:

“Would you like to see the world with me?”

Curious eyes had looked at him then, the warmth in them a far cry to the coldness that would later enshroud them. She saw his outstretched hand and his warm smile, seeing not a hint of deceit. There was a brief hesitation, before she took his hand in hers.

Her hand had been cold then, too, Barbatos remembered. At that time though, it didn’t matter because the warmth of his hand had sank into hers.

It was true that she has her duties, but she was also curious about the world. She wanted to know more about the lands outside her realm; the deities which guarded them. Perhaps, she had thought, I can become a better leader to my people that way.

Thus a deal—a contract, as a certain Lord of Geo would say—was made.

Once upon a time, the wind met a girl in the Land of Snow.

The wind brought the girl to the Land of Stone.

They had chosen to travel by boat, for the girl had never saw the open sea. The wind found the endless blue to be a bit boring, but he was content with seeing her wide-eyed wonder as they passed from the frozen climate onto warmer waters. So young, he had thought back then.

For a moment, he thought of a certain dragon god descending upon a newly-crowned Lord of Anemo, up on that mountain where the only souls who saw them were his trusted knights. Was this, Barbatos wondered, what Morax felt when he first saw me?

Ah, no wonder his friend was always so lenient towards him.

When the ship docked on that famed harbour-city, the wind took the girl’s hand and gently led her to an unassuming abode high up on a mountain.

He would remember her expression when she met his friend, even centuries after they parted ways. He hadn’t disclose to her who they were meeting, wanting it to be a surprise. She had agreed to let it be, following him up to the slopes of Mount Tianheng.

When the door opened and Morax introduced himself as the Lord of Geo, the wind had laughed at her shocked expression.

What followed then was a fluster of words as the new Cryo Archon—her cheeks stained red with embarrassment—asked the Geo Archon:

“A-ah... Greetings! I-I’m the new Cryo Archon from Snezhnaya. I’ve heard so much about you, Lord Morax! If-if you may...would you mind teaching me? I wish to be a better ruler to my people.”

“Of course,” the Lord of Geo easily agreed, like the wind knew he would. Then the earth turned to him, Geo-deep voice sonorous in its rebuke, “You can stand to learn a little about duty from her.”

The Lord of Anemo had laughed then, “You know me, old friend! I won’t change my ways.”

His friend had shaken his head, and the girl beside them had looked at him in confusion. “Why,” she had asked, “would you not lead your people?”

“What is freedom when mandated by a god?”

This silenced her. The earth, too, stood still, watching them. After a moment, the girl shook her head, “What indeed...?”

The wind laughed again. The earth sighed. The ice watched them both, and wondered if she could ever be a part of their easy familiarity.

On the night of their meeting, the Lord of Geo presented a goblet to the Lady of Cryo.

“I once made this for your predecessor,” he told her, “Do you wish to use it?”

She looked at it then, noting the snowflakes elegantly carved onto the stone, as if they were about to burst free and drift into the wind. There was a legacy there, she knew, memories and recollections which she could never hope to replace engraved deep on the accidental scratches. Not that she wanted to, however.

The girl shook her head, “Thank you, but I would like a different cup, if you please?”

The earth gazed at her for a second which stretched into an eternity. What did that inscrutable golden gaze see in her, she wondered. Was she someone who could fill the shoes of her predecessor, or someone who had failed before she even began?

Then the Lord of Geo nodded. It was like the drop of a pebble before an avalanche.

“I see,” she wondered what he saw, but he continued before she could ask, “Then I shall make you a new one.”

“Thank you,” the new god replied, unsure.

Morax said no more, turning to his kitchen to presumably get a new goblet. The Cryo Archon breathed a sigh, shoulders slumping in relief when he left. Next to her, the wind laughed.

“Don’t worry so much,” he teased her, “Morax’s not as scary as he looks.”

“Have you ever felt fear towards him?”

“Nope!” The wind told her, grinning, “Morax’s Morax. Always has been, always will be.”

She supposed there was something comforting in the unchanging mountains. Centuries may passed, chaos and peace would descend upon the lands in equal turns, but the mountains would remain—ever unchanging, ever immovable. Would she one day feel the same comfort in the solid stone as the wind did?

That was a question for another day.

During their travels, the wind taught the girl how to fold paper cranes.

It was a skill he learnt while travelling through Inazuma. On the grand scale of things, it was a pointless skill for a god to learn. Yet the wind chose to learn it and passed it down to her.

His hands were warm as he guided hers to make the proper folds, she remembered.

After they have folded their paper cranes, the wind would make them fly, laughing and giggling at her wonder. He had also told her about the legend associated with them:

“In Inazuma, they say that if you fold a thousand paper cranes then your wish can come true.”

She had laughed then, as did he. Neither believed that mere paper was enough to grant a wish.

Still, they continue to fold paper cranes by paper cranes. Even after their travels together had concluded, they would still come to her room sometimes to fold origami together. Between the two of them, they had strung up lines upon lines of paper birds all over her bedroom.

By the time they parted ways, the paper cranes numbered eight hundred.

Another thing the wind told her was this:

“Life is precious; love’s more so! Yet for freedom’s sake, one sacrifice all!”

He had sang this line as they sat on a wooden cart, hitching a ride from a farmer to travel to a nameless village. Hearing this, the girl tilted her head.

“You would sacrifice everything for the world?”

Again, the wind laughed as he played his lyre, “If I must!”

“Oh,” she thought of her people, trudging through the snowy fields and eking a living out of that frost-covered land, “Then I shall do the same.”

The wind turned to her, a smile on his lips. His eyes, however, showed his true age, “Are you so certain of that?”

The new god nodded firmly, “Yes.”

The day was young; the company warm. Neither realised the price they must pay for their words.

One of the things she noted about Morax was that he was cunning.

She had seen him charm a lady into giving discounts to the common folk for a whole week. Another man, too, was somehow ensnared by his words and now looked forward to an arranged marriage he had previously protested against. One elder manager who had been pushing the dockworkers too hard had been punished by the Millelith for tax evasion. There were many, many more examples she saw.

And all of this was done without the people of Liyue recognising their Archon’s hands in their lives.

“Why do you do this?”

The older god paused from where he sat by a low desk, overseeing his realm from his floating pavilion high up above the mountains. There was a brush in his hand and a freshly signed contract in front of him.

“For Liyue—as always.”

She had tilted her head, looking at the Geo Archon with curiosity, “Then does the ends justify the means?”

He set aside his brush and turned to face her completely, giving her question his complete attention. Finally, as the sun began to set on the distant horizon, he answered, “Sometimes...yes.”

“And what of the times it doesn’t?”

“Then you shouldn’t,” his form was young, but his eyes revealed his true age, “One must know when it is justified and when it is not. One way or another, the scales must be balanced.”

The girl had nodded back then, accepting his answer. The Lord of Geo waited for her to ask further, but when she didn’t, he turned back to his papers. Even as the sun set, he never looked up to see the magnificent view spread out before him.

Such devotion to his duties was a form of love, she knew. As she watched the moon slowly rise, she thought of how it would look reflected on the frozen lakes of Snezhnaya, or caught in the cups of her people’s fire-wine. If the Geo Archon were to ever visit her lands, would he also consider her country magnificent?

That was a question for another day.

Love, duty, and freedom.

In many ways, their paths aligned.

In many ways, it doesn’t.

Centuries came, centuries went.

A cataclysm occurred, and the world was thrown into chaos.

Afterwards, the wind never returned to that snowy land.

“What is freedom when mandated by a god?” She had asked him back then, amidst the smouldering ruins of the world. Her glare was as frigid as the blizzards that swept her through her country.

“What is love when forced upon others?” He shot back, equally harsh.

“The stars are a lie; the world’s truth has been revealed before us, yet still you would do nothing?

“You would burn the whole world for your love!”

“‘Life is precious; love’s more so! Yet for freedom’s sake, one sacrifice all!’—Was this not what you told me back then!?”

“That I did, but this is too much! I cannot condone the slaughter of millions for your ambitions!”

“It is not ambition, but love! Are you content in living in this gilded cage?”

The wind hesitated, the ice took that chance to make an offer:

“I know you don’t—you who embodied the winds of freedom. So I ask you this—”

She extended her hand.

“Would you burn the world with me?”

She had offered him a deal—a contract as a certain Lord of Geo would say—but his answer...

It was lost to the winds of time. All that was known was that, from then on, they never met again.

Centuries came, centuries went.

Even after the cataclysm, the world continued to turn. The wind continued wandering and singing. The earth remained immovable and stoic. The ice quietly plotted from her frigid palace.

Until one day, an emissary from the Land of Snow was sent to the Realm of the Adepti, bearing a letter stamped with the Tsaritsa’s seal.

Two gods sat amidst the snow and frost, sitting inside an ice-covered pavilion in the middle of a glacial garden. This was not the smiling wind that the girl had met long ago, nor was it those halcyon days when they sang songs together. This was the Lord of Geo and the Lady of Cryo, eyes locked on each other like they were preparing for a duel.

In truth, she had expected him to reject her offer, but to her surprise, Morax had nodded and looked thoughtful instead.

“What a surprise,” he told her, voice still as earth-deep and steady as she remembered, “I was planning to retire. This would suit me as well, I think.”

“You? Planning to retire?” It jolted her, making her sit up straighter and looked at him sharply. She could not imagine the immovable mountains changing.

There was a faint, barely visible smile on Morax’s lips. She knew that a certain wind god would be able to coax it into something larger, “Even boulders that can withstand whirlpools will erode with the passing of time. So, too, must I.”

The ruler of Snezhnaya looked at him carefully, trying to see any of the cracks he claimed to have. Morax gazed back, just as inscrutable as ever. She wondered if he also wanted to know what she thought of him just as much as she wanted to know what he thought of her.

Eventually, she murmured, “If you wish to retire, then this works in my favour. You would not need your Gnosis when you step down from your throne.”

He shook his head, golden eyes piercing, “No. Such power is still useful in defending Liyue. If you wish to take my Gnosis, then you must offer something of equal value.”

She remembered that sunset on his floating pavilion, the words he told her still resonating in her mind, “For Liyue—as always.”

For Snezhnaya—as always.

Whatever she must offer, whatever she must give up, whatever she must sacrifice—all of it would be worth it for her wish.

(“Then does the ends justify the means?”

“Sometimes...yes.”)

“Then state your terms, O’ God of Contracts,” she stated, chin up and proud, “Let us make a deal.”

Life was precious; love was more so. Yet for freedom’s sake, one must be willing to sacrifice all. Even now, after everything that had happened between them, she still remembered the wind’s words.

This was the form of her love towards her people.

There was a strange man from Liyue wandering around Zapolyarny Palace, Signora noticed.

For the most part, this man seemed content to stay in his assigned quarters. If not there, then he could often be found in one of the palace’s gardens, standing amidst the softly falling snow. He didn’t wander anywhere he wasn’t allowed to, showing that he was not a spy (or perhaps a very good one).

Moreover, despite the chill that permeated through the grand castle though, this man didn’t wear any thick coats or jackets, choosing instead to remain in his finely-stitched suit, as if he was not affected by the cold.

This was what initially tipped Signora off that he was not normal.

The second thing was that it seemed no one knew who he was.

All the guards could tell her was that, one day, this strange man appeared at the gates of Zapolyarny Palace bearing a letter marked with the Tsaritsa’s seal. When the gate guard at that time had informed their ruler of his presence, the Tsaritsa had immediately ordered for this man to be taken to her. Then, they retreated to the Cryo Archon’s glacial gardens; a private place where not even the Harbingers could come as they liked.

Several hours later, they came out from that garden, with the Tsaritsa holding a small stack of papers while the man looked contemplative.

Thus a pattern emerged over the next week. By midday, the Tsaritsa and her mysterious guest would converge in her icy gardens, only coming out when it became dark. Every time, after they returned, the Cryo Archon would carry an even thicker stack of papers.

It was plainly obvious that the icy ruler was negotiating with this stoic man; those who whispered that perhaps their Tsaritsa had found a lover was foolish. Signora remembered her mission to Liyue a few weeks ago, having been sent to deliver a message to a deserted shrine in Jueyun Karst. At that time, she had been doubtful as to whether or not the Geo Archon would read it, but now she knew that he did.

This Liyuean man—with his sharp golden gaze and mountain-like stoicism—was undoubtedly Morax, the God of Contracts and Lord of Geo.

Now, the question remained: What was Her Royal Highness negotiating Morax over?

Signora has a suspicion about that. This suspicion was all but confirmed when she met the icy ruler in the gardens.

She was strolling along the garden paths then, watching the falling snow decorate the frozen leaf a purer white. This was one of the more ‘public’ gardens, though due to its distance from the main palace, it was also one of the quieter, secluded ones. As she walked along the path, she saw a figure sitting in the center of a pavilion, hunched over a table with stacks of papers all around them.

After a minute, Signora realised that the silhouette she saw was that of the Cryo Archon, and turned to leave. Her ruler, however, noticed her presence and called out to her.

“Signora?” The Cryo Archon’s voice was as soft as the drifting snowflake, yet no less cold. It was a coldness borne from her nature and experience though; it didn’t mean that she wasn’t fond of her or the other Harbingers, “Come, sit. It’s been a while since last we talked.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Signora bowed to her, before walking up the steps into that pavilion, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

She saw her ruler smiled faintly at that, the sight like a still snowscape after a blizzard, “Just talk to me. I need someone to distract me from this Celestia-forsaken contract that I’ve been reading over and over again.”

Signora pore her gaze over to the table. Aside from the plate of biscuits and now-chilled tea, the only thing that covered the table were pieces of papers. She tried to read one, noting the formal legalese on each and every one.

“The Liyuean man who has been staying here for a week,” she began, “I’m presuming that he is Morax, the God of Contracts?”

“Your observation is correct,” the Tsaritsa nodded, leaning back against her chair and drinking her previously untouched tea with a sigh, “The letter that I had asked you to deliver to Jueyun Karst was an invitation from me to him.”

She suspected as much, “Is there something that you need from him that we Harbingers cannot take for you? If Your Highness say the word, then we’ll gladly fight him.”

The Cryo Archon shook her head, “As much as I appreciate that, it is impossible for you to win against him.”

This caused Signora to raise her brow. The Cryo Archon believed in her Harbingers’ powers and abilities—why else would they be gifted the Delusions and their rank? There was very little that they could not do with the power of the artificial Visions and Snezhnaya’s backing.

Her ruler noticed her dubious look and laughed softly. The sound caressed her ears like frost dancing over a petal, “I believe in your and your comrades powers, but even so I know that it is insignificant against Morax’s might.”

“He is one of the few remaining veterans of the Archon War. The entire landscape of Liyue is but a memorial and gravesite for those he had felled during that time of chaos,” the Tsaritsa sighed, “Not only that, he also has the adepti on his side. Though their number has decreased over the centuries, the fact that they are powerful has not changed. I fear that if we confront them directly, we will lose.”

“That is only accounting for military might, however,” the Cryo Archon shook her head once more, “There are still other factors that make it unwise to challenge Morax.”

She smiled wryly, “Snezhnaya’s economy is strong, but it is only second when it comes to Liyue. Furthermore, all major trades on Teyvat passes through that harbour-city one way or another. Even our factories still rely on products that comes from Liyue. If we face an embargo or trade war, then it will only lead to an uphill battle that we cannot afford to do.”

“There is also mora,” Her Royal Highness sighed, “As you know, mora is the currency of this land, and it is also a catalyst for weapon enhancement and alchemy. Despite all our advancements and research into the ancient civilisations, we still rely on mora as a catalyst. As the God of Mora, only he has the ability to mint it, and only he has the ability to create it.”

“If we go to war against him, then what would become of our military, alchemy, and healthcare, not to mention the other industries that make Snezhnaya so prosperous? What would become of our factories? Without even lifting a finger, Morax can easily set us back a few centuries.”

“Do you understand now, Signora? Morax has made himself so indispensable to this continent that going up against him or Liyue would be close to suicide. And we have fargreater things to contend with...”

“So this is why Your Highness wishes to bind him with a contract,” Signora concluded, looking at the stacks of papers, “This is the only way to get what you want from him.”

“Yes,” Her ruler nodded, sighing again, “But a contract is a two-way street. Morax is fair, but he’s not above using loopholes or adding stipulations that he knows the other party may have difficulty upholding because of their personalities. He does this either to test them or further his own plots. And just as he binds himself to his word, he’ll also ensure that you keep to yours—or else.”

“And this contract I’m making with him... it is one of such high stakes that I must place something of equal value to balance the scales. But it is because of the stakes involved that I must be even more careful of the details of our contract.”

“Then this is just a draft?” Signora tilted her head to the countless towering papers.

She nodded, “Morax is very particular about every detail of a contract, this one even more so. I cannot afford to let my guard down too.”

Something so important that her Archon spent a week of endless negotiations and poring over documents to check, double check, and triple check. It was to the point that many in Zapolyarny Palace have noted her absence in some of the country’s affairs. Something like that, which only the Geo Archon possessed and was reluctant to part with... Signora has an inkling to what it could be.

She bowed to the Tsaritsa, “If there is anything this one can do to help Your Highness, then I shall gladly do so.”

The Cryo Archon smiled faintly, “Thank you, but this is something I must do alone.”

Sensing the dismissal behind her words, Signora bowed once more before bidding farewell. No matter how much she or the other Harbingers offered their help, the Tsaritsa would continue to shoulder the burdens of the world alone. Was this because of her status as an Archon, driving her to do her duties for her people to the point that she would challenge even the heavens themselves?

As she left, Signora wondered if there was ever a time when the Cryo Archon would lean on someone.

Once upon a time, the Cryo Archon had someone she trusted.

It was the wind that had taken the form of a smiling boy, who had wandered across her snowy plains with songs of hope and freedom. He had sang of the birds in flight and the beauty of spring, something which she never saw in the permafrost of her realm. Through him, she learnt of songs and tales of distant lands; the memory of their meetings still granting her a nostalgic warmth even after everything that had happened between them.

He taught her how to fold paper cranes—hands warm over her cold ones—and told her a story from a faraway nation: In Inazuma, they say that if you fold a thousand paper cranes then your wish can come true.

She had laughed then, not believing his words. He laughed with her, too. Neither of them truly believed that wishes could come true so easily.

Still, they folded paper cranes together, one by one by one. At the time of their parting, it had numbered eight hundred, but then the cataclysm occurred. The wind never returned from then on.

She should have tossed away those paper cranes—burn them or freeze them before shattering them into tiny, irreplaceable pieces—but she didn’t. Instead, she continued folding them.

More than a thousand paper cranes had been folded since then, decorating her sparse bedroom. Yet still, the wind never returned, and her wish remained ungranted.

No matter. If the heavens refused to grant her wish, then she would realise it herself. As for whether or not the wind would be by her side then...

They would find out when that day comes.

A month passed since Morax arrived at Zapolyarny Palace before he agreed to sign the contract.

Afterwards, before he left her glacial gardens, the Tsaritsa asked him this:

“Barbatos...how is he doing?”

Morax glanced at her. For a moment, he saw the gentle soul who was once coaxed by the Anemo Archon to explore the world outside her icy realm with him; the girl who had looked up to him in awe and had asked him to teach her to be a better ruler for her people. Then, the moment passed and he saw the mask of the cold queen she had become.

“If you wish to know, then come to Mondstadt. He has always and will always welcome you.”

His words elicited a small flinch, but the queen she had become quickly smoothened it. Morax would not have seen it if he hadn’t been expecting it. He knew that there was no way she would go to Mondstadt anytime soon.

He turned away. She did not stop him nor ask further questions.

The matter between the Anemo and Cryo Archons were for them to resolve themselves; the Geo Archon could not interfere no matter how much he wished to.

Once upon a time, the wind met a girl amidst the snow.

They have parted ways since then. The wind never returned to that frost-covered land.

But the wheels of time continued turning, the world continued moving, and fate continued conspiring. Everything spiralled towards its inevitable conclusion.

Love, duty, and freedom.

What would become of them then?

That was a question for another day.

Chapter Text

In days of yore, when the mighty Archons walked the land,

Before the Seven gathered in Liyue, and drank from Rex Lapis’ earthen cups,

After the final dust has settled, and peace tentatively crept over the land,

A dragon from Gaotian descended upon the City of Wind,

The Anemo Archon greeted him, and they became friends,

Dvalin was his name, and the Dragon of the East was he.

All this was known to mortal minds,

But here lies the tale unwritten by the bards,

Recorded only within the roots of the Silver Tree.

When Zhongli heard tell of a dragon in Mondstadt, he did not panic.

Such knee-jerk reaction was beneath the mighty, new Geo Archon of Liyue. He had overthrown gods, killed demons, and pinned many more fell creatures with his spears. He would not panic over news of a dragon.

However, for it to land in Mondstadt...

He had been sipping tea in one of his favourite teahouses in Liyue when he heard the news. Disguised as a commoner, no one noticed him sitting alone in a corner, paying close attention to the gossips and talks of the people. They may not mean much on their own, but together the words exchanged over drinks became a fine source of information that could further improve his rule.

(He could no longer rely on Guizhong to tell him the issues and troubles of their people, not after she...)

As the midday sun reached its peak, more and more people entered the teahouse, seeking some reprieve from the heat, or simply to take a break before returning to work. One of them was a merchant, who said, “Have you heard? I heard that there’s a dragon in Mondstadt!”

Zhongli froze, halfway to raising his teacup to his lips.

“A dragon? You sure ‘bout that, old man?”

“Yes, yes! An adventurer from Mondstadt just passed by my shop today. Said that he saw a dragon landing just south of the new lake city. Scared the shit out of him!”

“Oh yeah!” Another one, this time a woman with a claymore strapped across her back and munching through lotus flower crisps said, “I caught a glimpse of it too when I escorted a caravan there. Saw it flew over the new winery they built near the border.”

“Man, talk about a terrible omen!” A scholarly man exclaimed, “Their Archon have disappeared after they’ve settled in New Mondstadt, and now they have to face a dragon all on their own? Ah, it must be hard to be a Mondstadter...”

“At least we have Rex Lapis...”

“Yes, no matter what, we can always rely on our great Geo Archon...”

The topic shifted to stories of their god’s feats, but Zhongli tuned them out. His mind whirled with the new information he overheard. A dragon in Mondstadt?

Zhongli did not panic. It was not that sudden emotion that caused him to stand up and leave the teahouse, unnoticed by anyone. Panicking was beneath the Lord of Geo.

(It would have also either got him killed or caused terrible mistakes, not so long ago, so Zhongli had tried his hardest to dispense with that emotion.)

The feeling that drove him to depart for Mondstadt immediately was, however...

(Unbidden, he remembered Guizhong—that clash of black dust against rocks that blackened the skies and wilted their precious glaze lilies.)

He have to get to Mondstadt now.

In olden times, there were some attempts at peace between dragons, humans, and gods.

All of it ended in tragedy, however. Rex Lapis still remembered Azhdaha, before he had to seal the mountain dragon beneath a tree.

When life rose from the elements, it either descended and became a slime, or ascended and became a crystalfly. Sometimes they took the form of other creatures, such as anemogranas or whopperflowers, but rarely did this process gave rise to dangerous elemental monsters. Elemental dragons, then, were rarely seen and possessed the powers to match gods and demons.

Perhaps, it was because of this power that there could be no peace between dragons and gods.

When Zhongli reached the border between Mondstadt and Liyue, he paused.

The landscape had completely changed since he last set foot on the Country of Wind. Back then, Mondstadt was nothing more than a frozen, mountainous wasteland, where only those who were truly desperate lived among the freezing gale. Much has changed since then, however. Now Andrius had stopped his howling blizzards while the young Anemo Archon had blown the mountains and cleaved the ice with his divine winds, allowing his people to live comfortably on the now-rolling green plains.

Though, Zhongli noted, observing a certain icy mountain in the distance, It seems even he knows better than to touch that area.

As... foolish... as Venti may sometimes appeared to be, the Anemo Archon at least seemed to know better than to mess with places touched by Celestia. Briefly, the ancient god wondered what the younger god felt about that island in the sky, but dismissed it for now. Zhongli has his own opinions about the divines... but that was for another day.

Now, how do I find him?

Usually, Venti was the one to approach him. The wind god would often appear in front of him in a burst of wind, appearing and disappearing as swiftly as the element he held mastery over. Either that, or he could be found playing a song amidst the glaze lilies; the melodies carried away by the wind.

(Once more, he felt a pang at the memory of that ruined plains. He would never be able to see that scene again except in his memories.)

As Zhongli wondered about how he would go about searching for his friend, he walked around the border of the lake that laid next to the area which would later be called the Stone Gates. Overhead, the moon slowly, but steadily climbed to its peak as stars peeked out behind the veil of the night. Without him noticing it, his feet had brought him near the outskirts of a small group of houses.

Again, Zhongli paused, taking in the scenery. Most of the folks have retired home for the night, leaving the dirt paths empty. Meanwhile, grapevines silently crept around and over the wooden posts and stands, with quite a few of them already bearing fruit.

Ah, Zhongli thought, this must be the new winery they were talking about.

Venti had boasted about his people’s newfound wine. “Try some!” The wind god often cajoled, throwing him a bottle, “Mondstadt’s dandelion wine is the best in the world!”

Zhongli had scoffed back then, skeptical, but he had to admit that it did taste good when he tried it. If only that admission didn’t make the wind god looked insufferable...

(Guizhong had laughed, then, before asking for more wine. Her smile was so gleeful and mischievous as she teased him for his hardheadedness, backing up Venti’s jests. Would he ever be able to see that scenery once more?)

Venti had also told him that one of his loyal knights and friends had built a winery here. That was where he got the dandelion wine he often brought to Liyue. Hopefully, that friend of his would be able to tell Zhongli where the missing wind god was.

As he walked through the little village, it occurred to Zhongli that he never asked for the name of Venti’s mortal friends. All he knew was that there was a blond woman from the Gunnhildr clan and a man in black with fiery-red hair. Looking back, it was an oversight on his part.

(He didn’t think it was important before. Mortals came and went; their lives like a passing breeze. He didn’t think he would ever meet them again.)

If Guizhong was here...

He shook his head, focusing on the road ahead. There was no point in wondering about the what-ifs and maybes.

A sign on the road caught his attention. It was written in the Common Tongue: Dawn Winery—Whence the flow of delight comes, forget not whence thou came.

On its own, Zhongli would have ignored it, passing by it without a thought. However, as he walked past the sign, he caught a flash of fiery red hair leaving the orchards. Immediately, he stopped and turned, looking at the man who was entering a small house.

Approximately 2600 years in the future, this little house would become a grand mansion, and the descendant of this man would become the uncrowned King of Mondstadt. That was millenniums in the future, however. Right now, all Zhongli saw was the black-clothed back of one of Venti’s trusted knights.

“Wait,” he didn’t quite shout, but the sudden, stern tone was enough to draw the redhead’s attention. Zhongli quickly approached the wary knight, “You are one of Barbatos’ knights.”

“...Yes?” The redhead replied warily, hand twitching by his side, prepared to summon his weapon, “And who are you?”

Zhongli didn’t feel threatened by his glare. Calmly, the Geo Archon stated, “I saw you over a few decades or so ago on top of a mountain, alongside a blond woman from the Gunnhildr clan. You two accompanied Barbatos to meet me.”

“You—!” Realisation flashed in the man’s eyes. He quickly bowed politely, “Rex Lapis...I did not expect to see you here.”

He didn’t expect to see him ever again, if Zhongli assumed correctly. In any other circumstances, the redhead knight would be correct. After all, gods rarely went to other countries and mingle with their folks.

(Although there was a certain wind god who delighted in doing exactly that.)

“I am here to see Barbatos,” Zhongli told him, quickly getting to business, “Have you seen him?”

The man’s brows furrowed, “Venti? Beg your pardon, but I haven’t seen him around recently. He’s always coming and going like the wind.”

Zhongli nodded. Yes, that did sound like him.

“Usually he stops by every now and then to get some wine though,” the redhead shook his head, sighing fondly, “Really...with the amount of wine he can drink, he’ll put me out of business...”

Then, the knight looked up, eyes piercing, “Why are you so interested in his location, Rex Lapis?”

“I mean no harm,” Zhongli quickly assured him, “I am here simply because I’ve heard news of a dragon.”

“Oh, that,” the redhead replied, making Zhongli raised his brow at the nonchalance in his tone, “You need not worry, Rex Lapis, for Dvalin is of no threat to him or the people of Mondstadt.”

“Dvalin?”

“The name of the dragon,” the other answered, “Apparently, Venti has named him.”

Of course, his friend would name it—him. This was the same person who once told Zhongli, “Every being deserves a name to be called upon, and woven into a song!”

It was quite a frivolous notion—there was no need to name every little thing in this world—but this was the same person who had named every cloud and passing breeze. Zhongli often wondered how his friend came to attain that habit, but he never got the chance to ask. Perhaps he should later on.

“You do not seem so worried about having a dragon in Mondstadt,” Zhongli noted.

“I was worried... but it seemed unnecessary now,” he explained, “At first, the dragon landed near a village, scaring everyone away, but he didn’t hurt anyone. Then he landed in other places, such as a cemetery and an orchard, and the same things happened again. There were some structural damages and ruined crops from where Dvalin had landed, but he never actually hurt anyone.”

“We were confused, and more than a few people felt afraid. We noticed that the dragon has never hurt anyone and any damages seemed incidental, but we couldn’t let this continue to happen. So Gunnhildr went to the Whispering Woods with myself and a few of the other knights. There, she prayed to Venti beneath his Statue.”

“To be honest, given that Venti had told us that he would leave the future to us mortals, I didn’t expect him to appear, but he did. He told us not to worry and played his lyre. The music... I can’t describe how enchanting it was—he has truly learnt a lot since the time he took up his lyre. Enough to charm a dragon at least... if he was here right now, that bard would have been so proud...”

“Ah, but I digress! We panicked briefly upon seeing the dragon, but Venti smiled and told us that it was alright. Then, he turned to the dragon and simply asked him why he had been ‘visiting’ us.”

“The dragon explained that he was curious about humanity and wishes to understand how we live. However, since he isn’t human, he doesn’t understand why most of us are afraid of his appearance or got angry when he accidentally destroyed our property. After hearing this, Venti proclaimed that he will teach him about humanity, so that the dragon would be understood by all in this land.”

“Thereafter, the Anemo Archon gave the dragon a name—Dvalin—and took off into the skies with him...”

“That’s as far as I know,” the redhead concluded, “All of this happened a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know where Venti went with Dvalin, but I do know that no further incidents have occurred.”

Zhongli nodded, taking it all in carefully, “I see. Thank you.”

Relief flooded him, though a sense of apprehension still lingered. It seemed that he wasn’t truly needed here. If what the knight told him was true, then Venti was able to talk and befriend the dragon, avoiding any bloodshed and perhaps even gaining a powerful ally in the process. That meant that Zhongli could return to Liyue right now without further worries...

Unbidden, his mind drifted to Azhdaha, buried beneath the roots of that great tree. They were once allies too, but looked at what became of them now.

Perhaps it’s better to check, just in case.

Deciding that staying in Mondstadt for a little while more would be prudent, Zhongli asked, “Be that as it may, I am still concerned. A dragon is no small matter, after all. Perhaps you have some hint as to where your god has flew off to?”

The redhead tilted his head, looking at him carefully. After a while, the man murmured, “You’re really worried for him, huh?”

“We are friends,” was his simple reply.

“I see...” the knight nodded slowly, turning to his house, “Wait here for a moment.”

A few minutes later, he came out of his house with a map in his hands. The redhead opened it and pointed at a cliff to the northeast, “While I don’t know where Venti is, last I heard the dragon was spotted on Starsnatch Cliff. Perhaps he’ll also be there.”

“I see. Thank you for your assistance,” Zhongli accepted the offered map, nodding his head.

“You’re welcome, Rex Lapis. If you see him, do tell him that Ragnvindr said ‘hi’...and that he should stop stealing wine from my cellar.”

What was to be sung hails from ancient times,

When the gods walked among us in their prime.

Once there was a wind dragon from Gaotian,

Who descended upon us in that Age of Wonders.

With curious, innocent eyes, he beheld humanity,

Longing to a part of them; understood by all.

But humans, ever fearful of what they didn’t know,

Chased him away, or ran from him on sight.

Lost and confused, the dragon mourned but never gave up,

‘Till one day he heard a lyre; its song borne upon the wind.

The dragon searched for the source of that beauteous song,

And found the Anemo Archon, his voice as lovely as a bird’s.

“Behold his beauty and benignity!” The Anemo Archon sang.

“But we do not know him,” the people replied.

“Then learn, and approach not with fear, but with kindness.”

“For who knows? Perhaps one might just make a friend.”

This was the wisdom taught by the God of Freedom,

Whose form was as light and airy as the wind itself.

This was known to all the bards and scholars,

But here lies another tale that lies hidden in-between.

Usually, it was easy to find a dragon. They often caused some untold damage, or were large enough that it was impossible for anyone to miss them. As he entered a moonlit forest, Zhongli realised that this wasn’t the case.

After his conversation with the redhead knight, Zhongli immediately set out to find his friend (or at least the dragon). Ragnvindr offered to let him stay for the night, saying that it was difficult to navigate in the dark, but Zhongli declined. As an adeptus, his eyesight was much more powerful than a mere mortal’s, so it was easy for him to see through the dark without a light.

In hindsight though, he wondered if he should have taken him up on his offer.

Zhongli held the map with both hands, looking at it before glancing at his surroundings. The thick, tall trees that clustered around him made it impossible for him to see any major landmarks. Their boughs even covered the sky, creating a dense, leafy canopy that scarcely let the moonlight through.

His brows furrowed, Is this the Whispering Woods?

If he was in the Whispering Woods, then at least he was getting close to Starsnatch Cliff. That meant, however, that he couldn’t use his powers to simply create a floating stone platform and fly there. Doing so would alert the dragon, and possibly scare him off.

Although, if Venti was with the dragon (and still alive by then...), then he would recognise Zhongli and calm Dvalin down...

As he mulled over this issue, the Geo Archon came across a large ring in the forest. It dug deep into the earth; the walls and floors made out of grey stone slabs. Is this some sort of fighting area, or a court?

Sensing some sort of icy power lingering within the ring, Zhongli decided to investigate closer. Perhaps this was where the dragon had disappeared to?

But if so, then where was Venti?

As he landed inside the large ring, thick mist slowly formed all around him. Although he wasn’t effected by the cold due to being a powerful adeptus and Archon, the freezing gale still caused small goosebumps to rise on his skin. Zhongli frowned, hand twitching in preparation to summon his spear.

“Who goes there?”

The deep voice echoed around the seemingly empty ring, reverberating deep into the earth. He could feel the weight of those words falling on the ground, making it shake slightly at the gravity of the question. A lesser man would have quaked before this cold, invisible presence, but Zhongli was no mere mortal.

Standing tall and proud, the Lord of Geo declared, “I am Morax, the Geo Archon of Liyue and the God of Contracts.”

A figure appeared out of the mist, his lupine form made out of coalesced frost and wind. “Geo Archon Morax,” the King of the North Wind growled, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”

Judging by his tone, the great wolf spirit didn’t exactly sound pleased by their meeting, though that could be because he generally preferred to tend to himself and his kind. He towered over Zhongli, ice-blue eyes narrowed in a silent threat. If he made any wrong move, then there was no doubt that the Dominator of Wolves would slay him on the spot.

Zhongli—not at all insulted or intimidated by his growl—calmly looked up at the large form, “I am looking for Barbatos.”

“That little godling?” Andrius questioned, “What for?”

“I heard tell of a dragon in Mondstadt,” the God of Geo answered, “I came to check that he does not harm Barbatos or has any intentions to cause havoc in Liyue.”

“Hmm...” the wolf spirit pulled back a little, observing him carefully, “You care about Barbatos.”

That was not a question, but a statement. Zhongli didn’t bother denying it.

“He’s my friend,” was all he said to that.

(And now, perhaps, one of the few left who was truly close to him.)

“Is that all? The Archon War may be over in Liyue and Mondstadt, but it is still strange for a god to worry about the wellbeing of another god,” Andrius pointed out, “Grudges are not easily forgotten, and Mondstadt’s affairs should be of no interest to the Archon of Liyue.”

“Time will wash away all grudges and see to it that all debts are repaid,” Zhongli replied, “And I have no interest in the affairs of Mondstadt. I came here only for Barbatos and Liyue’s sakes.”

Andrius gazed at him for a while longer, blue eyes as piercingly cold as a blizzard. After an eternity passed, he nodded, murmuring to himself, “So that’s how it is... Hmph, perhaps I should have expected this from that little godling...”

Zhongli didn’t understand what the great wolf spirit meant by that, but it sounded like Andrius was starting to believe that he meant no harm. Taking that as a win, he asked, “If you now believe that I bear no ill intents, perhaps you would be willing to help me find him?”

The Dominator of Wolves took a moment longer to consider, before he finally nodded, “Fine. The wolves told me they last saw Barbatos in the Whispering Woods, singing with the young dragon.”

Zhongli’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Isn’t this the Whispering Woods?”

“Hah!” Andrius barked a laugh, “No, this is Wolvendom, where I hold court with my pack and the humans dare not enter. The Whispering Woods is far to the northeast of here.”

The Geo Archon stared at him blankly, ...Eh?

“Did you perchance got lost, earth god?” The large wolf spirit tilted his head down, peering at him with faint amusement.

“That...might be a possibility,” he admitted, willing himself to not blush in embarrassment, “Much has changed since I last came here. I no longer know the terrain.”

The King of the North Wind huffed, “That is true. Sometimes, I think that little godling might have overdid it when he rendered this land habitable to humans...”

Zhongli coughed, “Perhaps, you would be amiable to guide me there then, if you will?”

“Myself? No,” Andrius answered, “But I can have a pup guide you to where he last saw them. If you do not find them then, you will have to continue the search alone.”

“That sounds reasonable. Thank you, Wolf-King.”

The great wolf spirit of Wolvendom nodded, before his form dissipated into the cold mist.

Thankfully, the Anemo Archon and the dragon was still where the wolf last saw them.

Music was the first thing Zhongli noticed. The familiar strumming of a lyre rang gracefully through the midnight woods, playing a merry little song under the moonlight. Next came a soft crooning; the voice a cross between a cat’s purr and the hum of a dragonfly’s wings magnified.

“The moon is risen, beaming. The golden stars are gleaming,” a familiar voice sang in an unfamiliar language, making him unknowingly smile, “So brightly in the skies; the hushed, black woods are dreaming. The mists, like phantoms seeming...”

Another, deeper voice joined Venti’s, “...From meadows magically rise.”

The wolf led him to a clearing in the woods, before he bowed his head at Zhongli and left. Zhongli had nodded back in thanks and proceeded alone, stepping into the glade. There, amidst a field of glowing small lamp grasses, sat the singing Anemo Archon and an azure dragon.

Zhongli had intended to wait until they’ve finished singing to introduce himself, but Venti caught sight of him when he entered the clearing. Grinning, the Anemo Archon stopped playing his lyre to wave at him, “Zhongli! Didn’t expect to see you here. Come here and sit with us!”

“It has been a while, Venti,” Zhongli greeted him, sitting on the grass, mindful not to accidentally crush any of the small lamp grass. He noted, with no small amount of exasperation, that Venti was in that scandalously revealing outfit that he wore as ‘Barbatos’.

Really, does he have no shame?

Without thinking much about it, Zhongli took off his coat and draped it over the younger god’s form. Venti blinked, protesting a bit when he dropped it on top of his head, but he ignored it. Instead, Zhongli inclined his head to Dvalin, carefully hiding any of his apprehension, “I am Morax, the Geo Archon of Liyue and the God of Contracts. I usually take the on the name Zhongli as a mortal, however. And you are...”

“I am Dvalin,” said the dragon, his deep voice belying a childlike wonder. Bright teal eyes—like the colour of Anemo—gazed down at him with innocent curiosity he didn’t expect such a large creature to have, “It is an honour to meet you, Geo Archon.”

Unlike with Andrius, who obviously wasn’t pleased with his presence, Dvalin seemed happy to see him. Perhaps it was because of his newfound friend, Venti. Zhongli wondered what sort of tales the windborne bard had spun this time.

“Likewise, Dvalin,” Zhongli replied, before asking, “What brings you to Mondstadt?”

“He’s here to make friends!” Venti cheerily answered for him. Beaming, the wind god pulled the coat closer to himself, before he turned to looked at him, “Can you help him, Zhongli?”

“Help him?” The Geo Archon raised a brow, glancing at the dragon—who suddenly looked quite shy for a large elemental being, “In what way?”

“You’re a dragon too, right?” Venti asked, “But you’re able to take on a human form. Maybe you can teach him how to do that too?”

Zhongli looked at him, “Why can’t you do that?”

“Well, sure I took on this form after he died, but that was kinda, umm...on instinct, ehehe...” his friend laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, “I don’t actually know enough to teach it.”

“This is not your original form?” Zhongli asked back, not exactly stunned but still somewhat surprised. He knew that gods could take on any forms they wish, but he was so used to seeing Venti in the form of a young, boyish bard that he just kind of assumed that this was his default look.

“Ah, no...I used to be just a common wind spirit,” Venti explained, chuckling slightly, “Now that I think of it, I never told you about that, huh? This appearance actually belongs to a bard I knew. He was my first friend, and the one who taught me so much about humanity and music.”

“...Did he die?”

The Anemo Archon sighed sadly, “Yes, a long time ago now. He rallied an army against Decarabian and fought for freedom, but unfortunately he died before ever truly experiencing it...”

“That is why I took on his appearance,” Venti hugged his lyre to his chest, “So that others will always remember him, and so that he can see the world through my eyes.”

A familiar sorrow weighed Zhongli’s heart, driving him to place a hand on the other’s shoulder. Softly, he murmured, “That is a heavy burder to bear.”

“I know,” Venti smiled, “But it’s one I chose to carry.”

Zhongli nodded, understanding. There were some sorrows that were too important to discard; some memories that were so heavy that not even the God of Freedom could break free from them. If this was what Venti chose to bear, then all he could do as a friend was be the rock that supported him.

“But anyway!” The wind god shook his head. Just like that, he was all bright and happy smiles once more, “So, will you help us? Pleaseeee?”

Zhongli sighed, glancing at the (shamelessly) pleading Anemo Archon and the quiet, hopeful azure dragon. Eventually, he relented, “Alright, I’ll teach him.”

“Yay! Thank you!” Venti hugged him, earning a small ‘oof’ from the earth god. He beamed widely at him, “You’re the best, Zhongli!”

The Geo Archon huffed a small laughter, lightly patting the younger god’s head, “Yes, yes, I know. Now get off me, please. I’m going to teach your dragon friend here how to turn into a human.”

Dvalin, as it turned out, was a smart student.

He was also very eager. The azure dragon kept asking him about this and that; why does humans only have four limbs, what kind of food did they eat, the things that they like and dislike. In many ways, Dvalin’s curiosity about humanity reminded Zhongli of Venti’s own incessant questions when he first arrived at Liyue.

The sun had risen when they had concluded their lessons. It was a good thing that none of them were regular mortals, or else they would’ve been dead tired by now. As it was, Venti was happily munching on an apple while sitting on a tree branch, watching the two dragons finish their class on disguises.

“Alright,” Zhongli spoke, nodding at the large, six-winged dragon, “Try it now.”

Dvalin nodded in return, closing his bright teal eyes. Small particles of Anemo energy floated all around him, coalescing around his form. The Geo Archon could feel the pure elemental energy swelling from the dragon’s body, lighting the great elemental being up. In a flash, the dragon was no more.

In his place, sat a boy with light-blue hair and teal-green eyes.

“You did it!” Venti leapt down from his perch, running up to hug the now-small boy. Giggling, the Anemo Archon pinched the dragon’s cheeks, “And look at you! You look so cute like this, Dvalin!”

“Barbatos,” Dvalin’s voice still possessed that deep and powerful timbre he has as a dragon, though it didn’t seem to reverberate like it did in his original form. His voice was completely at odds with his young appearance, “Let me go.”

“Awww...” Venti laughed, setting the now-smaller elemental being down, before patting him on the head, “Sorry, you just look so cute like this!”

“Barbatos...” Dvalin sighed, shaking his head and pulling away. He turned to look at Zhongli, a grateful smile on his face, “Thank you, Morax, for teaching me this.”

“You’re welcome,” Zhongli replied.

“Now you can go to the city with us!” Venti cheered, pulling the faux-boy’s hand. The windborne bard also reached for the earth god’s hand, grinning, “Zhongli, you should come too! I heard that the Ludi Harpastum is taking place soon!”

There were many things that he—as the God of Liyue—have to do: completing his paperwork, overseeing the people, keeping the peace between humans and adepti, and much, much more. His duties as the new Geo Archon of Liyue was never truly over. Zhongli knew that he should refuse.

And yet, looking at Venti’s bright smile and Dvalin’s shy, expectant gaze, he found that he couldn’t refuse.

If Guizhong was here, what would she say?

“You should try to live a little. Not for the sake of others, but for yourself.”

If she was was here, then Zhongli knew that she would have pushed him into joining them.

“Alright,” Zhongli smiled faintly, stepping closer and intertwining his hand with Venti’s, “Let’s go.”

In days of yore, when the mighty Archons walked the land,

When the Seven gathered in Liyue, and drank from Rex Lapis’ earthen cups,

After the final dust has settled, and peace tentatively crept over the land,

A dragon from Gaotian descended upon the City of Wind,

The Anemo Archon greeted him, and they became friends,

Dvalin was his name, and the Dragon of the East was he.

What went unknown was the role of the Geo Archon in all this,

The debt that laid between the Dragon of the East and Rex Lapis,

And the sliver of hope held by the Lord of Geo.

Now, unfurl, O’ silver roots of the Irminsul!

Let us hear the lost tale set in that Age of Wonders...

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AUTHOR’S NOTES:

In Chapter 16, Andrius mentioned Zhongli getting lost in Wolvendom. This is what happened back then. XD

Oh yeah, in that same chapter, you can see Dvalin and Zhongli being friendly with each other. This chapter (and the next one) explains why they’re like that.

The Shi Zhenzi (turns out his name’s actually Azhdaha) bit came from The Unforged weapon lore. Apparently, Zhongli used to have a dragon friend too, before something went wrong...

“When life rose from the elements, it either descended and became a slime, or ascended and became a crystalfly...” — This paragraph is taken almost word for word from the in-game book, Breeze Amidst the Forest.

“Whence the flow of delight comes, forget not whence thou came.” — The tagline on the Dawn Winery’s sign came from this: I translated Dawn Winery sign so you don’t have to by u/BarbaraMadeMeDoIt on Reddit.

Also, as for what happened to Guizhong...well, I’ll cover that later on her and Zhongli’s chapter (probably...8 more chapters, if I’m right...?). Just keep in mind that she’s doing fine in the present day storyline. ^_^

Btw, the song Venti and Dvalin was singing was “Der Mond ist aufgegangen” (The moon has risen), which is a German lullaby and evening song by Matthias Claudius. The lyrics are taken from Wikipedia.

Venti and Dvalin were singing in German/Mondstadtian, so Zhongli didn’t understand what they were saying in that part.

As for why Dvalin human form looks like a child. Well, I keep thinking, Venti often refers to him as ‘gentle child’, so my personal headcanon for him is that he’s actually younger than he looks/sounds. Lol, in that headcanon, I think that Dvalin is the youngest of the immortals we know so far (excluding Vennessa, who’s born 1600 years after Decarabian’s fall). So yeah, in here, he’s younger than even Xiao or Ganyu.

(Another reason is because I find the ‘looks like a small child but actually has a deep voice and is way older than you think’ trope funny. Basically, Dvalin’s child form is a nod to Hans Christian Andersen’s appearance in the Fate/ series lol.)

Also, I find it really funny/interesting that the Dvalin we met in game appeared so dignified and elegant (when he’s not corrupted by the Abyss Order). Meanwhile, the only ‘adult’ figure (and I use the term loosely here lol) in his life that we know of is Venti. And you know how Venti is, hahaha! XD

So that’s why I think that, maybe, Zhongli has a hand in it? That’s why in this fic, he taught Dvalin how to get a human form so that he can mingle and understand them better. He also checks up on him whenever Venti falls into his centuries-long nap.

Half of this is for pragmatic reasons; Zhongli doesn’t want a dragon to rampage through Mondstadt (which is right next to Liyue, and thus, could affect his people as well). The other half is simply because he’s grown to like the young dragon and doesn’t want to see him fall or be sealed away like the other dragons he knows of (e.g. Shi Zhenzi, Chi of Guyun). If need be, he’ll seal Dvalin himself, but Zhongli really hopes he doesn’t have to.

So as a result of constantly meeting Zhongli throughout the millenniums, Dvalin grew up to be a kind, dignified, very dutiful dragon...sorta like a certain dragon god we know, hmm? ; )

Also, I saw the leaks of Xiao’s voice-lines and stories. Wow, so it seems that Venti is, perhaps unknowingly to him, very important to Liyue...or at least to Zhongli and Xiao XD. Hehehe...that’s so sweet... ^_^

(Note: Before anyone asks, no, I don’t ship XiaoVen—or Zhongli/Xiao for that matter—but I do get why people ship them now. While I won’t be writing those ships, you can expect Xiao to pop up a bit more frequently now. I hope people won’t get mad at me for not shipping or writing fics about those pairings...Sorry...)

About Visions:

Shipping aside, I’m interested about his Vision lore. In Xiao’s Vision lore, he states that he no longer remembers how or when he got his Vision. I wonder...does that mean Visions predated the Archons? If yes, then doesn’t that mean he most likely didn’t get his from either Zhongli or Venti? This begs the question then, just how does one gain a Vision and who is the one giving them away?

Of course, it could be that he gained a Vision after the Archon War has concluded. Since Xiao didn’t think that it’s important however, he doesn’t bother remembering it. Yet he also has this interesting line:

“All adepti are known as the "mighty and illuminated" adepti, and this "illumination" refers to the light of a third "eye" that they possess: a Vision.”

“But do adepti receive their Visions like humans do, as a form of acknowledgment from Celestia?”

Adepti exists even before the Archon War, but based on these lines they only became adepti after receiving a Vision. So I wonder...is it possible for one to get a Vision before the Archon system was established?

Zhongli’s voice-line, after you ascended him several times, bugs me too:

“I see. Using a Vision harnesses elements. As far as the common folk are concerned, this is no small feat. So... back then.. they were aware of this as they stood beside me...”

This really makes me question a lot of things. First, why does he sound so... confused/surprised by all this? As an Archon who presumably hands out Visions, shouldn’t he know already that harnessing elemental power is no small feat?

Second, what does he mean by ‘back then’? Does he mean during or before the Archon War? But doesn’t that sorta implies that he has a Vision back then, since he said ‘they were aware of this as they stood by me’? But he only became the Geo Archon after the Archon War ended. It was also never confirmed whether or not his current Vision is real or fake like Venti’s.

So, assuming that his is real, then who gave him his Vision?

Zhongli also says—at the end of the Liyue chapter—that Visions are “Magical foci bestowed upon those who have been acknowledged by the gods.”

But he never said that those gods are Archons.

Going by the lore of the ancient civilisation, Sal Vindagynr, on Dragonspine (an excellent writeup can be found here), no Archons were ever mentioned during time period approximately 2,700 years ago. However, they did mention ‘envoys from heaven’. In the Travail video, Dainsleif also mentions:

“The God of Justice lives for the spectacle of the courtroom, seeking to judge all other gods. But even she knows not to make an enemy of the divine.”

And, about the Tsaritsa: “Her followers hope only to be on her side when the day of her rebellion against the divine comes at last.”

So it seems there are two groups of gods: Archons and the Divines, with the latter being ranked higher than the former.

Which is pretty crazy when you think about it. Zhongli (and Venti at the peak of his power) can reshape the entire landscape of a country as Archons. Just how much more powerful are these Divines/Celestia?

Currently, the people of Teyvat believes that it’s their Archons who gives the Visions to the chosen few, but, as presented above, I wonder if that’s the case. There are several people who straight up didn’t want them (e.g. Ningguang, Keqing), wasn’t interested/didn’t need them (e.g. Mona, Albedo, Lisa), or gained them during a character defining moment (e.g. Kaeya). There are also cases such as Mona and Ningguang’s where they technically ‘inherited’ a Vision.

There’s a quest where a researcher from Sumeru says that they think that the reason that there’s no new Electro Vision-wielders is because Baal has stopped giving them out. I wonder, however, if that’s true, given that Lisa (who was a prodigy from Sumeru Academia)seems disillusioned with the pursuit of knowledge, and that Dainsleif says “In the city of scholars there is a push for folly, yet the God of Wisdom makes no argument against it.”

It makes me think, is there something wrong with the Academia? Can we really trust everything we hear/read from Sumeru’s researchers?

Unreliable Narrator is a common trope, after all. Every book and every story is based on someone’s perspective, which means there’s always a possibility for bias (or lack of information). You can’t always believe everything the NPCs claim is true...

So the question remains: What system determines who gains a Vision, when was this system implemented, who determines the people who gains them, how are they given out, and why do Visions exist and are given out in the first place?

Ahh...so many mysteries~~ XD

TL;DR: I don’t think the Archons are the ones who hands out Visions. It’s possible that there may be a huge twist about Visions later in the future.

Uploaded on 5 January 2021

Next Chapter Summary:

Dvalin’s first trip to a city as a human.

P.S. I’m also writing another ZhongVen slowburn fic titled Skyward Song. If you’re interested, go check it out! It has Pokemon in it! :D

EDIT (6 Jan 2021): Included picture of Dvalin’s human form. If the picture doesn’t load for you, you can check it out on my Instagram or DeviantArt.

Edit (28 Jan 2021): Changed Shi Zhenzi’s name to Azhdaha because I later realised that the dragon that’s sealed beneath the tree under Nantianmen is most likely Azdaha.

Edit (23 Feb 2021): After learning that the Archon War ended 2000 years ago (I previously thought it ended around 2600 years ago), I changed some things slightly to fit the timeline.

Edit (3 Sept 2021): I was right about my theory! Baal’s voiceline “About Vision” confirms that the Archons aren’t the ones responsible for giving Visions!!! :D

Raiden Ei: “Really? So in all this time, no new Electro Visions have appeared in the outside world? Well, what I can say on this topic is subject to certain constraints, but... it is not by my will that Visions are granted or denied. The key is people's desire, and... well, there's another side to it too.”

Chapter Text

Dvalin peeked warily from behind a certain dragon god at the knights stationed in front of Mondstadt’s main gates, clutching the ends of Morax’s brown coat.

He didn’t exactly have the best relationships with any humans who wielded weapons. They tend to attack him on sight or run away upon his descent. His meeting with the knights at the Whispering Woods a scant few weeks ago were the only exception to his usual experience, and even that was because Barbatos was there to reassure the humans.

“Good morning!” The knight greeted them with a friendly smile, “Ah, let me guess, you’re from Liyue, sir?”

“That is correct,” Morax replied, gesturing to the windborne bard beside him, “I am here to visit my friend.”

“We’re here for the Ludi Harpastum!” Barbatos added cheerfully.

“I see! The Ludi Harpastum is a grand event with many festivities,” the knight nodded, before peering down at him. Dvalin shrank away at his casual scrutiny, “And is this your son, sir?”

Dvalin peeked up to looked at the older dragon’s bewildered expression, “Ah...”

Did they looked alike, or did the human simply assumed their relation because Dvalin looked so young and clung to the Geo Archon like a wolfhook berry? Admittedly, he did drew a couple of inspirations for his current form from the older dragon (such as the long ponytail, because he thought it looked cool), but they didn’t look that similar, did they? If anything, he thought that he bore more of a passing resemblance to Barbatos, because he chose to imitate his new friend’s appearance by copying the twin braids and youthful look (though, he might have gone too youthful).

The wind dragon even wore a small lamp grass in his hair, to mirror how Barbatos had a cecilia on his beret.

“Yup!” Barbatos breezily lied, suddenly hugging the now-small dragon from behind, “He’s our kid! He’s a bit shy, but he’s really looking forward to this.”

Morax turned to the Anemo Archon with a raised brow, while Dvalin’s cheeks turned red as he gaped at the bard, What!? I’m not their—

The knight blinked, looking at Barbatos in confusion, “Aren’t you a little too young to have kids?”

“Hey!” Barbatos put his hands on his hips, pretending to be affronted, “Is that a slight against my height? I have you know, I’m older than you!”

“Uh... sure...” the knight glanced at Morax, as if seeking confirmation.

Morax sighed, briefly closing his eyes, making the younger dragon wonder if the elder had to deal with his fellow Archon’s nonsense often, “Yes, he’s actually much older than he looks.”

“Alright then...” he shrugged, accepting it. To be fair, Dvalin thought, this time they’re not lying.

“Well, in that case, I get it,” the knight smiled easily again, “It’s nice to enjoy the festival with family!”

“Yup~” Barbatos nodded, pulling both dragons along, “If you don’t mind, we better get going! Need to book a room at the inn and all, you see.”

“Of course, enjoy your stay in Mondstadt!”

“What was that?” Zhongli asked Venti once they were out of earshot from the guard.

“Hmm?” Venti looked around at the market stalls, packed to the brim with goods and souvenirs for tourists and locals alike, “What’s what?”

“Don’t play coy,” the Geo Archon shot him a look, crossing his arms, “You told that guard we’re family.”

“I did, I did~” his fellow Archon nodded breezily, plucking an apple from a stall, “Gotta get us in somehow. Besides, don’t you think it’s cute?”

Cute? Zhongli’s brows furrowed, a faint frown marring his face. Seeing this, Venti laughed and patted his arm.

“Ah, don’t think about it too much,” the wind god snickered, taking another apple from the stall, “By the way, mind paying for these? I, uh, don’t have any money, you see...”

“Venti...” He sighed, tempted to refuse. Upon seeing the Anemo Archon’s wide, pleading eyes however, Zhongli reluctantly made some mora and paid for the apples.

“Thanks!” Venti whooped, handing one apple to Dvalin while munching on the other, “Ehehe, you’re the best, Zhongli!”

“Hmph, if only you don’t spend all your money on wine...” Zhongli glanced at the impressionable young dragon, who looked at the apple in his hands with round teal eyes, “Dvalin, please don’t copy his behaviour. It’ll lead you to further troubles in the future.”

“Zhongliiii,” his friend whined, pouting, “You’re making me look uncool in front of our new friend!”

Zhongli was merciless, “You do that yourself.”

Theatrically, Venti placed a hand over his heart, as if fatally wounded, “Ah, so harsh! Dvalin, I hope you don’t become as blunt as this rockhead, or else you might just hurt somebody with your words.”

“Umm,,,” Dvalin glanced between them, blinking his eyes while slowly taking bites from his apple, “...Sure?”

“Okay, enough of that!” Venti giggled, throwing his apple core to a nearby trashcan. He threw an arm around Dvalin’s shoulders, who almost squeaked at the sudden one-handed hug, “Come on! There’s lots I want to show you guys!”

Excited, the Anemo Archon ran off deeper into the city, dragging the young dragon along. Zhongli watched them fondly, before chuckling to himself and following them.

The first place Venti brought them to was a grand statue made in his image.

Zhongli raised a brow at him. Venti raised both hands up, as if in defence, “Hey, don’t look at me like that! It’s not as if I asked them to make it for me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Zhongli asked, still skeptical.

“Yes!” Venti nodded his head, “It’s just that, led by Venerare of the Lawrence clan, the three leaders of the Gunnhildr, Lawrence, and Imunlaukr clans made it in honour of me for some reason. I never asked for it, but hey, don’t you think it’s great?”

“Hmm...” Zhongli put his chin in his hand, gazing up at the giant winged figure looming above him, “I suppose it does capture some of your likeness, though there are some aspects of it that’s very inaccurate.”

“Like what?”

The Geo Archon looked at the long robes the statue wore—completely covering him unlike a certain Anemo Archon’s divine form—before stating bluntly, “The clothes, for one.”

“Huh?” Venti looked up at it, “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” He sighed and shook his head, I just wish you actually wear that as an Archon instead of... whatever it is you usually call your ‘divine outfit’.

Really, who gave Venti the inspiration for that?

Standing between them, Dvalin looked at the inscription engraved on the base of the statue, head tilted and eyes narrowed in confusion, “What’s that?”

Zhongli blinked, glancing at it, Oh right, we haven’t taught him how to read human language.

“That’s the oath of protection sworn by the three founding clans of Mondstadt,” Venti explained, pointing at it, “The three leaders had engraved it together, so that they would remember the promises they made to me.”

The Geo Archon peered at it, a certain phrase catching his eyes. “The Gateway of Celestia...” he breathed out, giving Venti a sharp glance.

“Ehehe...” was all his friend replied with.

He sighed again, shaking his head as he lamented his friend’s carefree nature, Really? Why did he allow them to put that there?

He remembered how Celestia used to float over the frozen mountain that was once the lush and fertile country, Sal Vindagnyr. He remembered hearing how that island in the sky had set one of its pillars over it, freezing the region and trapping the people inside.

He remembered looking up from the border of Mondstadt and Liyue, expecting to see the giant silver Irminsul tree towering over the mountain, only to see a blizzard blanketing the entire region like a thick curtain.

The Geo Gnosis buried in his chest felt uncomfortably cold all of a sudden.

(To say that he have mixed feelings towards Celestia was an understatement.)

This tale though, took place long before Decarabian fell. He wondered if Venti was even born yet during that era to witness it.

Shaking his head to push away all thoughts of that long-forgotten kingdom, Zhongli glanced up at the sky, before turning to Venti, “I think we should make a reservation at an inn now, before it gets too crowded with visitors and tourists.”

“Ah, you’re right,” Venti agreed, “It’s almost noon already, huh?”

“Come on,” the wind god took both dragons’ hand, leading the way again, “I know just the place!”

“Waaah, I’m sorry, but we’re almost completely swamped with visitors!” The young innkeeper apologised profusely, “There’s only one large room left with a single bed!”

“Oh man...” Venti crossed his arms, almost pouting, “By now, I think the other inns are full too...”

Ever since Mondstadt had opened its borders and began rebuilding itself, there has been an influx of visitors from faraway lands. More than a few of them were merchants from Liyue—eager to make a profit from Mondstadt’s trademark dandelion wine—but there were also plenty from Fontaine, Sumeru, Inazuma, and more. With the Ludi Harpastum coming up too, more travellers have arrived here than ever.

“How large is the bed?” Zhongli asked.

“Hmm... well, it’s supposed to be large enough for a married couple at least...” she answered, looking at the three of them, “I think a small child can fit in too.”

“Alright then,” Zhongli nodded, “We’ll take it.”

She blinked, “Are you sure? It’s our most luxurious room too. It’s not going to be cheap, you know?”

He waved her concerns away, “Money is not an issue.”

“Whoa...” the young innkeeper whistled, “You must be really rich, sir.”

“Hahaha... let’s just say he’s a really wealthy merchant from Liyue,” Venti laughed. Zhongli could hear the underlying nervousness in his tone, but he doubted the others could tell.

“I see...” she sighed, before murmuring to herself, “Why are all the handsome ones always taken already...?”

Zhongli raised a brow, but didn’t bother fixing her misassumptions. In a few moments, they have signed their names into the guest records and took the key to their room from her. She gave pointed towards a stairs by the end of the hall and told them that their room was at the very top level.

“Breakfast’s at 7 to 9 here!” the young innkeeper grinned and waved at them as they headed towards the stairs, “Hope you enjoy your stay here in Mondstadt!”

Zhongli inspected the room they were given—eyeing the simple, yet homey decor carefully—before nodding. It lacked the opulence that he saw in some of the more luxurious inns at Liyue (which had began sprouting up here and there after the war), but it was large, clean, and tidy. He thought that it was worth the price he paid.

Next to him, Venti whistled as he closed the door behind him, “Nice, this is basically a suite!”

Dvalin examined the room thoroughly, poking his nose into the wardrobe and standing on tip toes to peer over the desk and windows, “So this is what the inside of a human house looks like?”

“Sort of. This is an inn, so we need to pay per night for the room,” Venti explained, removing his shoes before jumping onto the bed, “A human home has lots of the same things you see here, but you don’t have to pay per night.”

“I see,” the young dragon nodded seriously, believing every word the Anemo Archon said.

“Aaanywaayyy,” Venti flipped himself to his back, before pushing himself up with his hands to grin at them, “The day’s not over yet! I still got lots of places to show you!”

Dvalin carefully perched himself on the bed, unused to the plush material, “Where else are we going?”

“Lots of places. There’s the main market, the taverns, the lake, the bars...” the wind god cheerfully listed, “The cathedral, the windmills, the grapevines...”

“Why does it seem there’s a lot of wine-related locations there?” Zhongli noted, leaning against a wall and casually crossing his arms as he looked at the two Anemo-users.

“Hehehe, Mondstadt is known for its wine, after all!” Venti winked, “Courtesy of me!”

Dvalin looked up at him, “You taught the humans how to make wine?”

The Anemo Archon nodded, smiling widely, “Yup! I accidentally discovered how to make it way back when Decarabian was still around. After that, I thought it to Ragnvindr and a few other people. They’ve since refined the technique and made it into something better though.”

“Since you’re in a Mondstadt you must try out the wine,” Venti insisted, “It’s our local specialty, after all. Not doing so is like going to Liyue and not eating seafood at least once!”

Zhongli’s nose wrinkled a bit at the mention of seafood. While he did used to like it, the memory of those slimy, sticky, miniature tentacles have since ruined his appetite for them. He would rather avoid seafood if he could, though that was a difficult to do when Liyue was a harbour-city.

“And of course, tomorrow’s the start of the Ludi Harpastum,” Venti continued, “We gotta wake up bright and early to take the public carriage to the Thousand Winds Temple for the opening ceremony, so we best not stay up too late today.”

“Public carriages?” Dvalin questioned, eyes wide with curiosity, “Thousand Winds Temple?”

“Yeah, it’s generally safer to travel in groups for humans, since unlike us not all of them can defend themselves properly,” the wind god explained, “That’s why the knights arranged for carts to take civilians and tourists to the Temple, so that everyone can participate in the event.”

“As for the Thousand Winds Temple, it’s a huge temple located near Starsnatch Cliff. It kinda looks like a cross between an amphitheater and a fighting ring. The three founding clans built it to worship me and the God of Time, and there the people of Mondstadt have sung songs to the winds or performed fights to please the gods.”

“Anyway, tomorrow is the opening ceremony. There’ll be a performance by the three clans, some singers and plays, an exhibition match, and more!” Venti grinned, so eager he was almost bouncing on the bed, “And that’s just the first day! There’s more to come in the following weeks!”

“Wait, how long is the Ludi Harpastum?” It suddenly occurred to Zhongli to ask him this.

“Around fifteen days,” his friend cheerfully answered, oblivious to his surprise, “And at the climax of the event, a fair maiden will be chosen to throw the harpastum from on top of my statue. Whoever gets the ball will get a year’s worth of food and supplies as prize.”

Fifteen—! Zhongli couldn’t stay away from Liyue that long. He has his duties to attend to, people to oversee and guide, the adepti to lead and—

Both Venti and Dvalin looked up at him, viridian and teal eyes shining with anticipation.

...He couldn’t ruin this for them.

“I’ll need to send a message to Ganyu,” Zhongli eventually resigned himself to his fate, “I must let her know that I will be away for two weeks.”

“Great!” Venti cheered. Next to him, Dvalin smiled shyly. The wind god pumped his fist to the air, “This is gonna be a fun two weeks!”

Zhongli sighed, watching as he chattered on and on about the festival to the interested young dragon. He felt a little guilty; this was supposed to be a quick trip to check on his friend’s health, yet somehow it has evolved into a two week stay. He would need to work harder once this was done to make up for his absence.

But I think... the earth god mused as the trio left the inn, This is what Guizhong would have wanted for me.

Venti suggested that he sent a message on the wind using dandelion seeds. When Zhongli asked him how to do so, the wind god took them outside of Mondstadt to pluck a few seeds from the flowers growing beside the lake.

“Here,” his friend brought the seeds to his lips, “You bring them up like this and whisper your message to them, after that, you blow them and I’ll make sure it’ll get sent to the right recipient.”

“This is the first time I have ever heard of this,” Zhongli replied, looking doubtfully at the seeds that Venti had given him, “Are you sure this will work?”

“Yup, I promise!” Venti nodded exuberantly.

Zhongli raised a brow, “You’re making a promise to the God of Contracts.”

“I know~” Venti laughed easily, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to deliver it to the right person.”

He stared at him for a moment, before shrugging. If this was true, it would be a much faster way to send messages than asking (and bribing with berries) a bird to deliver it for him. There was no harm in trying.

Bringing the seeds up to his lips, Zhongli whispered, “Ganyu, I will be in Mondstadt for fifteen days for the Ludi Harpastum. This is not an emergency. Please look after Liyue Harbour while I am gone. Thank you.”

He glanced down at it after he finished speaking. There was no tell tale signs of the message being recorded into the seeds or anything like that. Still, Venti did promise him, so Zhongli decided to trust him and blew the whispery seeds out over the clear lake and into the blue sky.

Next to him, Venti closed his eyes briefly—seemingly concentrating on something—before he smiled and nodded.

“There,” he told him, smiling, “Your message has been sent to Ganyu.”

“Thank you,” Zhongli said to his friend.

“Um...” Standing quietly beside Venti, Dvalin asked, “Can you send other things too on the winds?”

“Of course, it’s more than just words that flows with the winds,” Venti grinned, “It’s very popular for the people of Mondstadt to whisper their wishes and prayers into the dandelion seeds before blowing them away. Some even goes so far as to climb my statue in the Main Plaza and stand on my hands to blow the seeds away.”

“If I send my wishes on the wind, will it come true?”

Venti was quiet for a bit, before he answered, a shade more seriously than his usual merry self, “While I can’t promise that your wish will come true, I can at least try to grant it, if it’s within my powers.”

“Alright then,” Dvalin nodded, the seriousness on his face belying the child’s appearance he wore, “I’ll do it.”

Zhongli watched as the young dragon created a small gust of wind to pluck a dandelion’s seeds, before bringing it up to his lips. His teal eyes were closed in concentration as he whispered his wish. Zhongli couldn’t hear it, but judging by the way Venti’s eyes softened, he assumed that the Anemo Archon had heard it.

After Dvalin blew his wishes to the winds, Venti reached over to hugged him.

“I promise you,” Venti embraced the younger male tightly, “That I’ll do everything I can to make your wish come true.”

What a powerful statement coming from a god. Zhongli wondered what the young dragon have wished to evoke such response, but refrained from asking.

This was a matter between the wind and the dragon, after all.

Afterwards, Venti took them on a tour around the city.

“Here’s the main market!” He showed the stalls-lined street with a grandiose sweep of his arm. The seemingly endless merchants hawking their wares and calling them to check out their goods reminded Zhongli of Liyue’s own markets.

“Let’s take a boat ride on the lake!” Venti dragged them to a little dock right outside the city’s side gate. Dvalin had peered curiously down at the fishes swimming beneath their boat, almost accidentally falling into the waters if the two gods hadn’t caught him on time. While Zhongli gently rowed the boat to the center of the tranquil lake, Venti sang an ode to the winds and mountains, the sweet melodies from his lyre a perfect fit for the serene scenery around them.

“Look at the windmills! Aren’t they massive?” The Anemo Archon eagerly showed them off, having led the way to a village just south of the city. He gestured to a nearby orchard, “They’re used to pump water from the lake to the farm, among other things.”

“Hey, Zhongli, you mind paying the fee? If you do, we’ll be allowed to get into the orchards and pick the grapes,” Venti asked, before explaining that this particular farm was both for tourists and the nearby wineries. This was why the owner had given them baskets after they (Zhongli) have paid the entrance fee, saying that they could pick as many grapes as they could fit in it. Once they were inside the orchards, Zhongli stood back and watched as his friend bent down to teach Dvalin how to identify the best grapes to pick.

The warm sunlight filtered through the grapevines, alighting upon the Anemo Archon in a gentle halo. It made the softness in the wind god’s eyes and smile all the more apparent, as he patiently taught the young dragon all he knew about grapes. Gently, his friend raised Dvalin’s hand, helping him pick the best fruits.

Perhaps it was the sunlight glazing everything into warm hues, or maybe it was the tender way the younger god lifted Dvalin up on his shoulders so that the dragon-in-a-child’s body could reach a certain vine. Whatever the case might be, something tightened in Zhongli’s chest, causing him to be breathless and rendering the moment into gold in his memories.

I miss this...

The thought came so suddenly, it nearly knocked the ancient god off his feet.

“Hey, what are you doing standing there, old man?” He heard Venti teased, oblivious to Zhongli’s surprise. He looked up, and saw his friend standing there with a bright smile, the young dragon looking at him curiously from atop Venti’s shoulders, “We’re pretending to be a family for now, right? So you gotta act that part!”

Ah, right, they have pretended to be a family so that the owner of this orchard would give them a discount on their entrance fee. It was unnecessary for the God of Wealth, but Venti had looked at him strangely when he said that he didn’t mind paying the expensive regular price, before the wind god shook his head and laughed. In the end though, Zhongli had decided to play along with his friend’s lie.

It was a harmless lie. There was nothing wrong with pretending to be a family for the day.

And yet—as Zhongli walked towards the duo waiting for him in the sunlight—a long-forgotten warmth gently engulfed his heart.

That night, they all slept together.

It couldn’t be helped. There was only one bed. So they had to crowd together in the comfy pyjamas that Zhongli had bought for them earlier in the day to fit under the blanket.

Thankfully, the bed was large enough for the three of them. The room they rented was for a small family, so it worked out well for them.

Zhongli laid on his side to the left, while Venti slept on the other side. In between them, sleeping on his back, was the tiny form of Dvalin.

As he watched the moonlight silently graced the two Anemo-users faces, a memory niggled at the corners of his mind. Hadn’t he seen this sort of scene before, long, long ago?

(Back then, they were in a hut instead of an inn; the space they have small yet somehow homey. His older sister had spread an arm around them, holding them close in her sleep, while his younger sister slept on between them.)

Something unidentifiable ached in his chest.

Was there a word for this emotion? One never knew what one has until they lost it. He knew from the beginning that there was a price to pay for divinity, but in his youth, he had foolishly thought that it wouldn’t be so high.

Ah, he slowly closed his eyes, desiderium.

To longed for that which he could no longer have. To wish that was not the case, even as he accepted that it was now lost to time. To desire not for time to unwind, but for the ability to recreate the warmth that now only lingered in his memories.

That was the word... wasn’t it?

Zhongli closed his dry eyes.

It was pointless to grieve over that which he lost thousands of years ago. The memory ached in his heart, but he knew better than to live in the past. Instead of dwelling on it longer, the ancient adeptus spread an arm around the sleeping Venti and Dvalin, holding them closer to him.

So what if he could never relive those memories again? This moment, this warmth, right here and now, was similar enough.

The next morning, they took a cart to the Thousand Winds Temple.

As Venti had said, it was basically a makeshift public carriage, and so there were plenty of others on the ride with them. Tourists from all over Teyvat had came here to witness the opening ceremonies for the Ludi Harpastum, while the locals eagerly talked about the performers and fighters that would appear in the temple. It made the ride to the grand temple a very cramped, hectic one.

It was so cramped that Dvalin had to sit on Zhongli’s lap the entire way there.

Once they reached the Thousand Winds Temple, Venti immediately dragged them to his favourite spot.

“Here, you can get a good view of the festivities from here!” The Anemo Archon grinned as he plopped down on top of a pillar. Beneath them, humans gathered into the large amphitheatre, looking for seats or pointing at the ring. Venti swung his feet over the edge, carelessly swinging them as he looked over the crowd, “Hmm...the God of Time isn’t here yet. Oh well, we can always catch up later!”

Zhongli sat down on the edge, his pose as prim and proper as ever. Dvalin sat between them, glancing at him before trying to sit as straight as he was.

They watched as the humans milled and mingled below them, unaware of their presence, before Venti suddenly perked up and grinned.

“They’re starting!” He exclaimed, pointing at the three groups that walked into the ring, “Look, those are the Gunnhildr, Lawrence, and Imunlaukr clans!”

“To the Gods of Anemo and Time!” The leaders’ voice echoed throughout the amphitheatre-like temple, shushing the crowd and bidding them to their seats, “Please watch over us, O’ Lords, and bless our lands!”

Then, one of them, a woman with a bow and hunter’s garb, marched to the center. With a hand to the sky, she exclaimed:

“Anemo brings stories while Time nurtures them. An ancient tale comes whisked in the wind. In time, it will grow and sprout once again!”

“Witness now, O’ Lords of Anemo and Time, the reenactment of those distant days!”

The opening ceremony came in three parts. The first act, led by the female hunter (that must be Venerare, Zhongli realised), told of the tale of their forebears conquering the land through their wisdom and strength. This was a tale set before Decarabian’s fall, showing their clan’s brave victory over the frozen wilderness.

The second act was led by the Imunlaukr clan, and told of war. With dull greatswords, they pretended to fight against foes, the intricate choreography of the make-believe war so lifelike, that the crowd almost believed it was real. It kept all of them on the edge of their seats, until, at last, the final warrior set aside their blade to allow the third act to begin.

The final act showed the beginning of Mondstadt, reenacted by the Gunnhildr clan. As the snow melted and the freezing gales calmed down, the people of Mondstadt came together and founded the city on the lake. As the ceremony came to a close, a blond woman—one of Barbatos’s knight that Zhongli recognised—stepped forward with her sword raised in a formal salute.

To the people and the thousand winds, she swore:

“For Mondstadt, as always. For the verdant plains, for the hills, and for the forests of Mondstadt. May they continue to flourish, as always.”

“For Mondstadt, as always. For the everlasting freedom of Mondstadt from the blizzard and the tyrant, whose coldness and oppression are one and the same.”

As her final words echoed throughout the ring, the people cheered and applauded, throwing flowers to the three clans. In the background, someone also popped confetti on them. Above the ring, Zhongli glanced at Venti, who clapped wildly at them and sent rejuvenating breezes as praise.

Thus, the Ludi Harpastum officially began.

“What do you think?” Venti turned to them with a grin as the people below them murmured and waited for the next match eagerly, “It’s cool, right?”

“Yes,” Zhongli admitted, nodding, “Your people are quite impressive.”

“Hehehe, yeah, they are,” the wind god replied fondly.

Dvalin’s eyes were still entranced on the ring, “For Mondstadt, as always...”

“Hmm?” Venti tilted his head at him, “Yes, that’s the Gunnhildr clan’s motto.”

“I see...” the young dragon murmured, looking at him, “They must really love you.”

“Hahaha, it’s not just me they love,” the Anemo Archon gestured at the people below them, “It’s also everyone here, and the fertile plains we enjoy, and the freedom which Mondstadt represents. For this and more, the three clans swore an oath of protection.”

The young dragon was quite for a moment, before he tentatively asked, “Do you think, that if I, too, swore to protect this country then they will also love me like they love them?”

Venti’s answer was soft, carrying a trace of seriousness, “I think... that love should not be dependent on what you can or cannot do.”

“If you wish to protect Mondstadt, then do so, but only out of your own free will.”

Dvalin stared at him, before he nodded. Venti smiled, reaching over to mess with his hair. It caused the young dragon to yelp and duck away, scooting closer to Zhongli.

For his part, Zhongli glanced at the clan who swore to forever defend Mondstadt and the winds.

For Mondstadt, as always, hmm?

Such dedication to one’s country was admirable. The Geo Archon just wondered to what lengths would they go to uphold such oaths.

The next event after the opening ceremony was an exhibition match.

“The Imunlaukr clan believes that combat exists not for protection, glory, or to gain territory, but to please the gods,” Venti told them as two large men with equally huge claymores entered the ring, “Before Mondstadt was founded, they would fight both monsters and outlaws, without any regard to their own safety.”

“However, after the snow melted and the people of Mondstadt slowly came together, the clan realised that they now have something to fight for at last,” he waved a hand at the two warriors who had clasped their hands in greeting, “Listen now, to their prayers.”

The two great warriors unsheathed their dull claymores—meant more for show than actual combat—and placed the tips on the ground. They faced the crowd with their hands clasped on the hilt, as if in prayer. Solemnly, they bowed their heads to the thousand winds.

Together, the two men prayed:

“Please look after Mondstadt's winds. Look after me, my friends, my countrymen, and my opponent. May the sound of clashing blades delight you, and may the offering of sweat and blood please you."

"To the wind that guides me. When I'm exhausted, bless me with the strength to keep going forward. When I'm uncertain, bless me with the wisdom to distinguish good from evil."

The Geo Archon saw the way his fellow Archon’s eyes softened. Quietly, the Anemo Archon raised a palm to his lips and blew a refreshing breeze at them, accepting their heartfelt prayers.

Neither of the two warriors down on the ring saw them, but they smiled, as if they could feel their god’s blessing on their skins.

The days passed quickly in merry festivities after that. To Zhongli’s mild surprise, the fifteen days seemed to went by in a blur of activities.

Shortly after the exhibition match ended, Venti had dragged them down to taste the food from the stalls lining the temple. As they snacked on the skewered meat and berries, the wind god signed them up to a bevy of games, such as a four-legged race, a ball game, tug of war, and more. The trio returned to their inn later that evening on a cart, worn out from the games.

The next day, the wind god invited them over to see a show. A local performance troupe had set up a small theatre in the fairgrounds next to the city, playing the story of Mondstadt’s rebellion against the Lord of the Tower. When the ‘Anemo Archon’ descended on the stage in an impressive trick of wires and feathers, Venti had clapped loudly while both dragons looked on in amusement.

The days after that seemed to blur together. Everyday, they went out to the fairgrounds to enjoy the festivities, often times staying out late at night to either play this or that game, or to taste the region’s famed wine (Dvalin was thought to be too young to drink by the mortals, so he only got grape juice or non-alcoholic cider instead). Zhongli fondly remembered their attempts at Pile ‘Em Up one night, stacking food into a tall tower only for it to topple over them and splattering them with food stains.

(He also remembered how often the Anemo Archon turned to him to ask him to pay for them. Really, it was a good thing one of them was the God of Wealth!)

Before he knew it, they were already at the climax of the grand festival.

“Today’s the day they throw the harpastum!” Venti woke them up that morning with exuberant cheer, ignoring his and Dvalin’s groans as both dragons tried to slinked further into the pillows, “Come on! It’s held at the Main Plaza, we can’t miss it!”

Groaning and muttering to themselves, the two dragons pushed themselves out of the bed and prepared for the day. Once they were done, Venti basically dragged them out of the inn in his rush to make it to the Main Plaza.

“We gotta get there quickly,” the wind god nearly exclaimed as he bounded up the stairs, going up the steps two at a time, “If not, then it’ll be too crowded and we won’t be able to see anything!”

Unfortunately for them, the large plaza was already full by the time they got there. People from all walks of life mingled and gathered beneath the base of the large Anemo Archon statue, some looking up at it while most were content to chat among themselves. In the palm of the statue’s hand, stood a girl holding a ball wrapped in red cloth.

“That ball is the harpastum,” Venti told them, pointing to the small figure high above them, “The one who gets the ball will receive a year’s worth of food and supplies, no matter their nationality, so it can get quite chaotic here.”

“I can’t see anything,” Dvalin frowned, standing on the tips of his toes. Unfortunately, his current form was that of a small child, so no matter how much he tried he couldn’t see anything over the mass of towering bodies all around him.

“Here,” Venti bent down, allowing the young dragon to sit on his shoulders, “Better now?”

“...No,” Dvalin shook his head, “I still can’t see anything.”

Zhongli hid a snicker, “That’s because you’re too short, Venti.”

“Humph!” The wind god tried to step on his feet, but Zhongli nimbly dodged him. His friend glared at him, “Not everyone is as ridiculously tall as you, rockhead!”

Chuckling, the earth god leaned down. “Is that so?” He asked rhetorically, a mysterious smirk on his lips, before he bent down and placed the younger god on his shoulders in one smooth move, “How about now?”

Both Anemo-users yelped in surprise when he swept Venti off his feet, before they quickly recovered themselves. Venti’s laughter rang brightly through the crowd as he balanced himself on Zhongli’s shoulders, putting his hands on his brown hair while the earth god touched the knees on either side of his head to stabilise his friend. As Zhongli straightened himself, Venti quipped, “Yeah, this will do.”

“Can you see things now, Dvalin?” Zhongli asked, tilting his head back a little to glance at the young dragon who was sitting on Venti’s shoulders.

“Yes, thank you, Mo—uh, Mr. Zhongli,” Dvalin replied politely, smiling a little.

Zhongli nodded, “Good.”

The trio stood there, looking at the fair maiden standing on the palms of the large statue hands and waiting for her to throw the ball. Some in the crowd pointed at them, noting how strange it was to see three people sitting over each other’s shoulders like them (mostly though, they gaped at how strong Zhongli was to be able to lift the two without any signs of visible exertion). More than a few commented that they must be family, and cooed at how they were helping their ‘son’ to get the harpastum.

For his part, Zhongli ignored any implications of that.

“Hey look!” He felt Venti lightly tugged his hair. A quick glance up revealed the disguised Anemo Archon pointing to the girl on the statue, “I think it’s starting!”

Some sort of signal must have been given out, because suddenly, the girl threw the red-cloth covered ball at the crowd. All at once, the crowd surged forward, almost knocking Zhongli off his feet if he wasn’t the Geo Archon. As it was, he stood firm amidst the raging wave of the mass, though he was briefly surprised by how chaotic the crowd suddenly became.

“Waah!” Overhead, Dvalin shouted, completely unprepared for the sudden rush. He wrapped his arms around Venti’s head tightly, eyes wide as he looked down at the surging crowd. Meanwhile, Venti laughed.

“Look, up there!” The wind god suddenly pointed up, “Dvalin, catch!”

Confused, the young dragon did so instinct, catching whatever it was that fell on him. It took him a moment before he realised that what he held in his hands was the coveted harpastum.

Zhongli couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face when he saw Dvalin’s shocked expression.

“Congratulations!” Venti tilted his head back, grinning at the slack-jawed young dragon, “You won the prize!”

As a dragon, Dvalin has no need for human supplies, and he said as much to Venti and Zhongli. Therefore, shortly after the ball-throwing event was over, Venti took them to meet one of the clan leaders in secret, in order to give away the prize.

“You wish to donate the prize you just won?” Gunnhildr asked, looking down at Dvalin. As she was one of the few who knew the truth about Venti, she was the easiest person for them to go to for this ‘problem’.

She had looked briefly surprised when they revealed that the seemingly young child they brought with them was actually the azure dragon that caused trouble to Mondstadt a couple of weeks ago, but she quickly took that in stride and treated Dvalin no differently than she would with anyone else.

“I have no need for them,” Dvalin replied, his deep voice at odds with his young appearance, “I’m a dragon, I can hunt on my own or survive with the ambient elemental energies.”

“If you’re certain...”

The young dragon nodded firmly, “I am.”

“Then thank you,” Gunnhildr smiled kindly at him, “From the bottom of my heart, I am grateful for your contributions to Mondstadt, and I’m sure the people will be, too.”

“Umm...” Suddenly, the young dragon looked shy, eyes averted to the ground and cheeks turning a faint red.

“Thanks for your help, Gunnhildr,” Venti said.

“Of course, Lord Barbatos,” she nodded, before taking her leave, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to the festival committee about this sudden charitable donation we have.”

After she left, Zhongli glanced at Dvalin, who was clutching at the ends of his coat. It was reminiscent of the way he hid himself behind the older dragon when they first arrived here, “Is there something wrong, Dvalin?”

“Huh? Oh, no,” he shook his head, “There’s nothing wrong, it’s just...”

The young dragon trailed off, staring at the spot where Gunnhildr once stood.

“Dvalin?” Venti asked softly.

Quietly, Dvalin admitted, “It... feels nice, to have someone say ‘thank you’ to me.”

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” Venti smiled at him, “It’s nice to know that you helped someone out.”

“Yes...”

Zhongli stared at him for a moment, observing what seemed like an idea taking root behind those teal eyes. He could not, however, know what that idea would bloom into in the years to come.

To be honest, neither would Venti.

Once the closing ceremony for the Ludi Harpastum was over, it was time for them to say goodbye.

Zhongli mused that he had originally came there to ascertain his friend’s health, but somehow, it turned into a two weeks stay where he met (and befriended) a young dragon and learnt the customs of his neighbour country. Some may considered it as wasted time—given the multitudes of duties he must attend to as the Geo Archon—but Zhongli couldn’t find it in him to regret it. It’s strange, he mused quietly, but Venti has that effect on me.

He didn’t think too deeply on that.

“Do you have to return to Liyue now?” Dvalin asked him when they made it to the border. Zhongli turned and saw the downcast expression on the young dragon’s face, “Can’t you stay for a few more days?”

He shook his head gently, “I must return to my country. As the Geo Archon of Liyue, there is much I must attend to.”

“Barbatos is the Anemo Archon of Mondstadt, yet he doesn’t have any duties at all.”

“Hey!” Venti spluttered out, causing Zhongli to chuckle.

“That is because he is also the God of Freedom, and believes that the people of Mondstadt should have the freedom to govern themselves free from any god’s influence,” the adeptus explained, “However, I am the God of Contracts, and I have made a promise to my people to lead and protect them. Thus, I am oath-bound to fulfil my contract to them.”

Dvalin innocently commented, “You are a lot more dutiful and respectful than Barbatos.”

“Hey!”

Zhongli laughed softly, patting the young dragon’s head, “Take care, Dvalin.”

“I will,” Dvalin leaned into the touch slightly, smiling a bit, “Thank you so much for all that you’ve done for me, Morax.”

Then Dvalin pulled back, seemingly stepping closer to Venti on instinct. The action made Zhongli smiled faintly.

For all that he joked about Venti’s lackadaisical attitude towards his divine duties, it was clear that the young dragon looked up to the Anemo Archon. Zhongli thought, Venti has gained a strong and loyal ally.

Briefly, he thought of the dragons he knew and those he had sealed away, before pushing such memories away from his mind for now.

“I’ll see you later then?” Venti asked hopefully.

“Of course,” Zhongli answered, “Feel free to come by anytime, both you and Dvalin.”

He hadn’t expected that he would befriend another dragon when he arrived at Mondstadt. It felt... nice to be able to help Dvalin connect with humans. Briefly, a flicker of hope was lit in his heart, Maybe this time the relationship between dragon, god, and humans won’t end badly...

“Alright!” His friend grinned, “And maybe next time you can invite Guizhong over too. It’ll be fun to have her here for the next Ludi Harpastum!”

Zhongli blinked. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he had never mentioned Guizhong’s fate to Venti.

Of course Venti wouldn’t have known what had happened to her. When that occurred, he had been on one of his continental tours, far away from Liyue. And although news did spread about what happened that led to a mass exodus from Guili Plains, the details were blurry to say the least.

Zhongli was still trying to process it himself.

(The Geo Gnosis in his chest suddenly burned coldly.)

“Of course,” he smiled faintly, hiding his thoughts from his fellow Archon. One day, when it was no longer so painful to think about that day, he would tell Venti the truth, “I’ll pass the message along.”

Later, deep beneath Taishan Mansion, Zhongli met with Guizhong.

“It’s been a while...” he greeted her, walking up to her slowly, “I have just came back from Mondstadt.”

...

“Venti is doing fine, as does his people,” Zhongli told her, “He asked me to invite you along the next time I go there. He has also made a new friend—a young dragon he named Dvalin.”

...

“Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if Azdaha...” the ancient adeptus shook his head, sighing, “No, I suppose it does not matter now. If you are here, you would have say that it’s best not to linger on the past, isn’t that right... Guizhong?”

Encased within a gigantic, luminescent crystal, the Goddess of Dust slumbered on, deaf to the world around her.

Zhongli stared up at her peaceful visage, forever frozen in time, guilt and sorrow mingling in his amber eyes. The large, gaping hole in her chest glowed faintly with pinpricks of Geo-gold energy, as the crystal he had created for her slowly healed the fatal wound... which he had created with his own hands. Meanwhile, tendrils of black corruption crept over half her face and down her arms—the reason why he had to struck her down on that terrible day (and the reason why he couldn’t ever release her even after the wound healed completely).

To this day, he wasn’t entirely sure what happened. All he knew was that one moment, things were peaceful, and yet the next...

The next moment, they were fighting. He to defend what they had built together, and she trying to destroy all that they had.

Why?

Was it because of some sort karmic debt? Did the hateful remnants of the gods they had killed together somehow corrupted her? He knew that it could happen—have seen for himself how such divine, powerful hatred had turned his fellow adepti into monsters—but he never thought that she could succumb to it.

Zhongli had thought that, if someone were to ever fall into corruption, it would be him.

Even now, he could feel the weight of the lives he took pressing down on his shoulders; another burden to add onto the mountain of others. Between the two of them, he was the one who fought on the frontlines and killed thousands of lives—both gods and humans. If there was anyone who should bear the sins of such crime (for all life was sacred, even if it belonged to an enemy), then it should have been him.

Why her?

He remembered the way her blood rushed out as he pierced her chest with his spear, nearly killing her. He remembered how warm her blood felt as it spilled down his hands.

He remembered how the golden glow of the Geo Gnosis descended before him shortly after he struck her down—the final god besides him in Liyue that could contend for the Seven Thrones—as if Celestia was rewarding him for his gruesome deed.

Zhongli had never in his life wanted to throw away something so much.

Why did I become the Geo Archon, instead of her?

Between the two of them, she was the one who knew their people better. He, as Morax, was a fierce guardian deity and arbiter of contracts, but he has lost the ability to grasp human sentiments as the centuries numbed him further. She was the wiser of the two. Among those who were worthy for the throne of the Archons, it should have been her standing here now, and not him.

Zhongli had never wanted power except to protect his people. He would have been more than happy to hand over that divine throne to her.

And maybe...

For a moment, Venti and Dvalin flashed in his mind, those days he spent with them celebrating the Ludi Harpastum effusing him with a long-lost warmth. If he was not the Geo Archon... If he was simply a mere adeptus...

“Hey, what are you doing standing there, old man? We’re pretending to be a family for now, right? So you gotta act the part!”

The carefree Anemo Archon had jokingly said that as he and Dvalin had plucked grapes beneath the sunlit vineyards. Zhongli didn’t think much of it at first, dismissing it as another one of his friend’s usual jokes, but he couldn’t help but wonder what if...

It wasn’t like he was attracted to the younger god in any way, but the idea of having and raising a family was...

He remembered his older sister, how she had raised them after their parents died. He remembered his younger sister, how she had passed away surrounded by loved ones.

He remembered his teacher, who once asked him, “What is the price for divinity?”

Their faces were now blurred in his memories, but in his mind, the warmth of their smiles still shone like gold.

I miss that.

But there was a price to be paid for divinity. As a young adeptus, he had known that. Now, as a much, much older god, Zhongli knew that his younger self couldn’t have possibly fathomed the price that must be paid.

(He would still pay it for his people’s sake, but he would be much less naive, much less eager...)

The God of Contracts brought a hand up, uncurling his fist. As his fingers spread open, the golden glow of the Geo Gnosis illuminated the dark hall, casting his frown into shadows. There, floating silently on the palm of his hand was the ‘reward’ he had gained for all his bloodshed and sacrifices.

Zhongli glared at it.

To say that he have mixed feelings towards it was an understatement. Once, before he became an immortal, he had been a devout believer in Celestia. As he grew older and more experienced, he began to wonder about the wisdom of the divines. When he learnt of what had happened to Sal Vindagnyr, Zhongli realised that the gods he once worshipped were not as benevolent as he had thought.

And now that he had seen it for himself...he knew that it was a fact.

(It was not that they didn’t have their reasons—and to a certain extent, he could accept it—however their actions didn’t take into account human sentiments. Zhongli, blind he might be to such things, was at least self-aware enough to recognise his own flaws.)

And yet...

In that moment of bleak despair, Zhongli had grabbed the proof of divinity that was offered to him, and used that power to permanently froze Guizhong in time.

Now, here she laid before him, forever trapped inside the crystal he had created with the Geo Gnosis.

For all the power that Archonhood gave him though, he couldn’t purify her. It could suspend her in her dying moments, even slowly heal the wounds he had inflicted on her, yet it couldn’t wash away the taint that poisoned her body and soul. If he released her now, she would undoubtedly go berserk and attempt to destroy all that they loved again.

Zhongli knew that Guizhong would never want that.

But if Zhongli was being honest, this... chest piece (and really, that told quite a bit about how Celestia viewed them)... was near useless to him.

The only thing it gave him—beside the power to freeze Guizhong in her dying moments—was the ability to imbue mora with some sort of mystical power. It was useful in his plans to turn Liyue into an economic powerhouse (if everyone used mora for its mystical properties, then slowly, he could push it to become the currency of the entire continent, thereby safeguarding his people’s future). But other than that...

There was no war to be fought, so he didn’t need it for its power, nor did it give him any wisdom he hasn’t yet learnt on his own. Aside from those two instances, the Geo Gnosis was basically paperweight to him.

Zhongli curled his fingers around it. The Gnosis’ golden glow disappeared as it returned into his body.

Still, it may be useful one day...

Whether he liked it or not, this was the ‘prize’ he had gained at the end of that brutal war. It might be near-useless to him now, but perhaps one day it could be used as a valuable bargaining chip.

As for Celestia...

Zhongli slowly looked up at Guizhong’s frozen visage.

It changed nothing. Whether or not he became an Archon, he would have still looked after his people. That was the duty demanded of him from his contract with them.

Right now, siding with Celestia was beneficial for Liyue. If the day ever came where that wasn’t the case though...

“If you are here,” Zhongli spoke to her, “You would probably say, ‘Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer’, wouldn’t you, Guizhong?”

There was no reply, but he nodded as if he heard her anyway.

“Friends or foes, it doesn’t matter. I will use everything and everyone at my disposal to protect our people.”

At the end of the day, Zhongli—Morax—was a practical man.

“That is what you would have wanted, right, my friend?”

.

.

.

AUTHOR’S NOTES

Lol, since this is set in the distant past (sometime before the Archon War), Zhongli’s still the God of Wealth and so can create mora on a whim. So yeah, he can act like the sugar daddy he appears to be for once. XD

The reason why it took so long for me to update this is because I did the next chapter before I even started on this one. Also, for this chapter, I made a that pic of Dvalin too first, so that the readers can visualise how he looks here.

(Also, the next chapter wasn’t even in my rough outline. But then I read Xiao’s leaked character stories, and whoops, before you know, here’s a 16k chapter lol!)

Anyways, I originally planned on releasing the next chapter 3 days after this one, but as thanks for your patience, I decided to upload them on the same day! I hope you guys enjoy this double update! :D

Trivia

• “It’s just that, led by Venerare of the Lawrence clan, the three leaders of the Gunnhildr, Lawrence, and Imunlaukr clans made it in honour of me for some reason...” — From the Royal Grimoire Interestingly, Venerare is also mentioned in the book Of Mountains and Seas from the Unreconciled Stars event to be one of the people who helped Leonard plan to climb Pilos Peak (now known as Musk Reef).
  • The three clans also wrote an oath of protection of Mondstadt there, but in the present day, the wordings have been lost to time. All that remains is the inscription “The Gateway of Celestia” (you can check it here).
• “He remembered how Celestia used to float over the frozen mountain that was once the lush country, Sal Vindagnyr...” — Based on this: Mysteries of the Ancient Civilisation’s Chief Priest and the Prayers for Springtime, Illumination, Destiny and Wisdom [1.2 Update].
  • Btw, just in case people don’t know, Sal Vindagnyr is the name of the ancient civilisation found on Dragonspine.
• Dvalin looked up at him, “You taught the humans how to make wine?” — Based off A Drunkard’s Tale, Volume 4. It says that a mischievous wind spirit accidentally found wine when it tried to prank a negligent guard lol. Considering that the only mischievous wind spirit we know of is Venti, well...
• “As for the Thousand Winds Temple, it’s a huge temple located near Starsnatch Cliff...”— The stuffs/scenes about the Thousand Winds Temple is from the Sacrificial weapons lore. That said, the idea that the original opening ceremony and games used to take place there is pure headcanon on my part.
• “Venti suggested that he sent a message on the wind using dandelion seeds...” — In Chapter 18: Moneyless Currencies, Zhongli noted that this was Venti’s preferred method of communication. Here’s how he learnt that.
• “...An ancient tale comes whisked in the wind. In time, it will grow and sprout once again!” — From the Time and Wind world quest.
• “For Mondstadt, as always...” — Gunnhildr’s oath here comes from the Royal Longsword weapon lore.
• “Please look after Mondstadt's winds...” — The Imunlaukr’s prayer here comes from the Royal Greatsword weapon lore.
• “Meanwhile, tendrils of black corruption crept over half her face and down her arms—the reason why he had to struck her down on that terrible day.” — The idea that Guizhong was corrupted by something and that Zhongli was forced to kill her came from this theory: Guizhong’s Death - Lore and Speculation.
  • Note: The idea that Zhongli receives his Gnosis shortly after killing Guizhong (or almost, in this fic) is pure speculation on my part. If it’s true though, it makes their story even more heartbreaking, huh? (T_T)
• “Was it because of some sort karmic debt? Did the hateful remnants of the gods they had killed together somehow corrupted her?” — This is based on Xiao’s leaked character stories. There, it talks about some sort of ‘karmic debt’ and mentioned that the hateful remnants of the old gods still linger in Liyue, which could corrupt/taint the souls of those fighting against it (like Xiao and the other adepti).
  • Note: Guizhong is not mentioned in Xiao’s character stories. Again, the idea that Guizhong got corrupted by the remnants of the old gods is pure speculation on my part. Things may be different in if Mihoyo ever expands on her story.
• “It wasn’t like he was attracted to the younger god in any way, but the idea of having and raising a family was...” — This is set sometime before the Archon War ended, long, long before Zhongli realised that he’s attracted to Venti. Yes, the guy is extremely dense lol.
• “He remembered his older sister, how she had raised them after their parents died. He remembered his younger sister, how she passed away surrounded by loved ones.” — The bits about his sisters and teacher is part of my headcanon about his past. More on that much
• “It was useful in his plans to turn Liyue into an economic powerhouse (if everyone used mora for its mystical properties, then slowly, he could push it to become the currency of the entire continent, thereby safeguarding his people’s future)...” — Something I’ve been thinking about since Zhongli told us that the Geo Gnosis is necessary for the creation of mora. Gold can be mined and turned into coins easily, and with the right tools, anyone can mint currency. So what makes mora special?
  
  • From the loading screen lore: “The currency accepted worldwide in Teyvat. None dispute its value and status”. And “It is a catalyst of sorts, in that it is a medium for physical transformation. That is why so many things can only be accomplished through the use of Mora.”
    • This makes me think, Maybe Zhongli used the Geo Gnosis’ powers to imbue mora with its mystical properties.
• According to the Rex Incognito series, there used to be other currencies besides mora, such as jade plaques (though whether that’s true or BS is unknown). From the Lost Riches event however, we got the Iron Coins (which you used to get the Mini Seelies), which has this description: “Long ago, there was once an organization that attempted to found their own nation. These coins were the nation's minted currency at the time.”
  • So there used to be other currencies beside mora in the past. But why is everyone using mora in the present?
    • Mora is used, among other things, for weapon enhancement and alchemy. In other words, it has direct links to the military and healthcare industries of every country in Teyvat. Those two industries are incredibly important for any countries (and that’s not to mention the other possible industries effected by mora’s mystical properties, like scientific research, new tech, Adventurer’s Guild, etc).
• Why would Zhongli do this? Perhaps because after the Archon War, Zhongli wants to avoid further bloodshed in Liyue. That’s why, by making mora into a universal currency that only he can make, no country in Teyvat would dare attack Liyue without risking to terribly nerf themselves.
  • Basically, with his Gnosis, he made himself (and Liyue by extension) so vital to the economy of Teyvat that no one can touch him or his people without severe consequences. Makes you wonder just what in the world could the Tsaritsa possible offer him that’s worth that...?
    • TL;DR Zhongli’s really, really cunning (*_*)

Next chapter is like Chapter 11: Northeastern Cradle Song and Chapter 17: Sal Flore, but this time it’s Venti-focused! Yay, finally, after so long our favourite bard gets the focus! ^_^

Hehehe... better prepare yourself! ;D

Uploaded on 22 January 2021

Next Chapter Summary:

“I heard that there is song out there that can break stone,” a certain bard once told him, “My friend, once we defeated Decarabian, let us search for this song together.”

That day never arrived, but Venti still searches for that promised song.

Contain spoilers for Xiao’s leaked character stories.

Edit (28 Jan 2021): Changed Shi Zhenzi’s name to Azhdaha because I later realised that the dragon that’s sealed beneath the tree under Nantianmen is most likely Azhdaha.

Edit (23 Feb 2021): After learning that the Archon War ended around 2000 years ago, I changed some stuff to better fit the timeline.

Chapter Text

A certain bard once told him this:

“I heard that there is song out there that can break stone. Not through force or strength or any divine power, but simply because it is so beautiful that the very earth itself is moved.”

“My friend, once we defeated Decarabian, let us search for this song together.”

That day never arrived. He died before even seeing the blue skies he fought so hard for. But Venti lived on, and one day he would find that song his friend longed to hear.

“Are you sure about this?”

Venti glanced at Ragnvindr and Gunnhildr, who had accompanied him to the borders of Mondstadt. Around them, the mountains loomed tall; not yet cut into the small valley that would later be known as the Stone Gates. The sun shone brightly down on them, which Venti took as a good omen for his travels.

“I’m sure,” Venti smiled at the two unconvinced knights, “This is what he would have wanted too.”

His friend had fought for freedom, and he had died for it. He would never have wanted to see his country fall into the rule of another god after Decarabian—even if said new god was Venti—and so the newly crowned Anemo Archon would respect his wishes. It was because of himafter all that he gained his humanity, and later, a human form. This was the least Venti could do for him.

“It’s not just that,” Gunnhildr protested, “You will go out into a world that is still at war. Surely it would be safer for you to remain here until the fighting has died down?”

“I agree with her,” Ragnvindr added, “If you wish to see the world, then that’s fine. But don’t foolishly throw your life away. He would not have wanted you to.”

The mention of his friend caused him to wince, before he wiped it away with a grin, “I know, but I’ll be fine. Besides, the longer I stay, the more the people will depend on me, and that’s no good. I want Mondstadt to be a country without a ruler.”

“And also...” Venti continued before they could speak, gazing into the far distance where a certain dragon god’s country laid, “Before he died, he told me this: ”

“Fly, fly away,”

“Like a bird in the sky,”

“See the world on my behalf...”

“To the heavens may you fly...”

He grinned at them after finishing the song, “I’ve already seen heaven and it’s not much to write about, so I’m going to travel the world instead! And since our appearances match now, I hope he’ll be able to see what he couldn’t see before through my eyes.”

“Besides...” Venti quietly murmured, clutching his friend’s lyre close to him. Mortals have started calling it the Holy Lyre der Himmel, but to him, it would always be his lyre, “We made a promise to look for a certain song together. Since he’s... gone... I’m the only one left to look for it...”

His knights looked at each other, before they both sighed. Gunnhildr was the one who spoke next, “If you are so certain of this, then we cannot stop you.”

“Good luck,” Ragnvindr said gruffly, mussing his hair and causing Venti to yelp, “You’ll be meeting the God of Contracts first, right? I heard that he’ll always keep to his promises so I would assume that he would at least be hospitable towards you.”

“Yeah,” Venti nodded, batting the redhead’s hand away, earning a small laugh from the man, “I think that my trip to Liyue will at least be a smooth one.”

He remembered their first meeting up on that windswept mountain. It felt like ages ago already, when it truth, only a few months have passed. To tell the truth, Venti had been incredibly nervous and worried in the days leading up to that first meeting. Morax was, after all, the first god Venti met after becoming the Anemo Archon.

There were many rumours regarding the Lord of Geo. Some claimed that he was ruthless; a war machine with a heart of stone. Others said that he was fair and just, but his judgements were always made with the cool distance that was characteristic of a god’s. Yet fewer still talked about the way he lingered around the glaze lilies, watching it turn the memories of his land into sweet fragrance.

Venti didn’t know what to think of him at the beginning. When the dragon god had descended upon them from the clouds, the young god had felt awe and trepidation. When he took on a human form and accepted his paltry gift of wine and food with a subtle smile, Venti had felt the faint stirrings of hope.

Oh, he remembered thinking back then, captured by his smile, this is a kind and gentle person.

That was Venti’s first impression of Zhongli.

As to whether or not that first impression would remain true...his visit to Liyue would clear that up.

“I’ll be going now,” Venti told them, heading to new lands. He waved as he walked away, grinning, “See you later! Take care of Mondstadt while I’m gone!”

“We will!” Ragnvindr promised.

“Take care of yourself!” Gunnhildr reminded him.

Venti laughed and nodded, strumming a tune on his friend’s lyre. He tilted his head up to that blue, blue sky, and sang freely to the bright midday sun.

My friend, we promised to look for a song that can break stones and move the earth, remember? Venti gazed at a passing bird, flying high above him, You are gone, but I am here. I promise you, I will look for that song for you.

And what better place to start than in Liyue, the Land of Stones?

As the years passed, the wind would not find the song he sought for.

But that was fine. In exchange for his endless quest, the songs he did sang have touched the lives of many.

Here were but a few examples:

Andrius growled, snarling at the humans who ran away from his presence. They dared trespassed on his lands, threaten his pack, and tried to drive his kind away, yet they have the gall to call him savage and brutal? The sheer hypocrisy of it all made him gnashed his teeth.

This was one of the many, many reasons why he refused the position of the Anemo Archon.

Speaking of him... the great wolf spirit’s ears twitched, catching the sound of a faint song on the breeze. Ah, he thought, frowning minutely, is that little wind spirit back from his trip already?

Andrius did not understand Barbatos. That little godling was not a human, yet he pretended to be one anyway. No, worse than pretending, he sought to become one and even went so far as to take on a human form. Andrius didn’t understand why; humans were not thatamazing, in his experienced opinion.

Thus, he much preferred dealing with Barbatos when he was in his wind spirit form.

Should I go to him? The Dominator of Wolves pondered for a moment, mist-formed feet silent as he trekked through the forest, I did not expect him to return so soon.

Considering how carefree and unrestrained the little godling was, Andrius had honestly expected him to leave Mondstadt for decades, if not centuries. After all, didn’t the newly-crowned Anemo Archon declared that he would abstain from ruling over Mondstadt?

At least he didn’t have to worry about Barbatos turning into another Decarabian.

As he quietly traversed the forest, his feet took him to the source of the song. Andrius wasn’t surprised by this, but he was mildly disgruntled. Of course he would wander towards the bard when his thoughts were unfocused; it was their songs, after all, that drew him to an alliance with the humans and ended Decarabian’s reign.

(He would admit, grudgingly, that the humans did have some virtues, for all their flaws. That human bard’s song was as beautiful as that melody he had heard from that ghostly woman, and it was by the arrow from Decarabian’s lover that the Lord of the Tower fell. Andrius would rarely, if ever, admit that though.)

The song originated from somewhere beyond Wolvendom, coming from the direction of Old Mondstadt. Andrius easily leapt through the debris of the ruined city, seeing that the humans have already picked the place clean in preparation of building their new homes on that newly-formed lake. Twitching his ears, he realised that the melody came somewhere from the west, on top of a cape that overlooked the once-great tower.

Ah, so that’s where he is.

It came to no surprise to Andrius that the wind spirit was there. After all, that was where they had buried him.

The place had been barren when they buried the human bard on top of that cape. Barbatos was the one who insisted on it though, saying that his friend would like the view of the wide blue sky he could never see in his lifetime. Now, up here where the winds blew cold not with stormy gales, but with the refreshing chill of the night, one could see the great starry expanse spread out above them like a tapestry.

When Andrius found the newly-crowned Anemo Archon, he saw that the young Lord of Anemo was surrounded by small lamp grasses and cecilias.

Cecilias were the human bard’s—and Barbatos’—favourite flower, so it came to no surprise that the little godling had planted them here. The small lamp grasses, however, gave Andrius a pause. It took him a moment of staring at the delicate, glowing flowers before he remembered a tale:

“It is said that the lights from the small lamp grasses can lead wayward souls home,” a certain knight once told him this, chapped lips curved up in a smile as he caressed the gentle blossom, “Small and delicate it may be, but even this fragile glow is precious in an all-encompassing darkness. Such is the nature of hope, my friend.”

Andrius did not understand him either, that human. They were but two wandering souls who happened to met by chance, yet they found a kindred spirit in each other. The free-spirited wolf detested humanity and their creations, but in that knight he saw the soul of another wolf staring back at him.

Was that how it was like for Barbatos and his human companion?

Perhaps... perhaps that was why the King of the Wolves was less bitter towards the Anemo Archon than the humans that the wind spirit protected. Perhaps—in their shared inhumanity and the friends they’ve lost—this sense of kindred pain brought about their subtle, delicate bond. In many ways, they were like outsiders looking in, were they not?

Perhaps this was why, despite hating humanity, Andrius still watched over these lands. Perhaps this was why, despite claiming to be as free as the breeze he was born from, Barbatos still chained himself to the past with the visage of his dead friend.

They were not so different, this ancient wolf and this young god.

Silently, Andrius padded over to the grave. Barbatos opened an eye to glanced at him, but did not say a word. The windborne bard kept singing his mournful elegy as the great wolf spirit laid down next to him and leaned his head against the godling’s thigh.

No tears were shed nor shared, for time has numbed the pain of loss into acceptance. All that existed in this solitary moment beneath the moonlight was a quiet empathy.

Andrius gazed at the gravestone. Once, there was a bard who had rallied an army with his songs of freedom. Once, there was a knight who had a wolf as his loyal companion.

Once there were two. Now there was one.

Like dust, like the small lamp grass, humans were such small and fragile beings.

The dragon whimpered quietly, stifling the hurt he felt as the humans ran away from him again. Some of them even threw stones or spears at him as they fled, but he barely noticed them; their meagre weapons not even scratching his scales. Far worse than their weapons were their glares and tears, piercing his heart far sharper than a blade.

Why did they ran away? Why wouldn’t they accept him?

He did not understand, but he wanted to.

If only someone would give me a chance, he sighed as he flew away from the village he had landed in. The dragon was careful not to tip over a scarecrow or rip a fence in his ascent, having learnt through observation that humans hated it when their properties were destroyed. Is there anyone in this land who would want to understand me?

Understanding... acceptance... that was all that he asked, all that he wanted. Was it too much to ask? Was it impossible for someone like him to be friends with someone else?

No, I must not give up. Somewhere out there, I’m sure...

It was for this reason that he had left his homeland and travelled all the way to the Land of Wind. The wind dragon had been drawn by the songs they sung, so different from the melodies of the birds or the chirps of crickets, yet they possessed a beauty all of their own. That was why he had landed in this country, in order to learn from them and sing along.

And yet he was met with rejection.

At this point, the dragon has yet to learn the human tongue, but anger and fear needed no translation. He could see it in their eyes, hear it in their tones, and smell it on their skin. The dragon did not belonged there with them; he was not one of them, and so they feared him.

Still, he would not give up that easily.

The azure dragon went to another village, and an orchard, and a grave, yet he was met with the same rejection over and over again. The humans either ran away from him or tried to slay him with their paltry weapons, causing him to flee lest he accidentally hurt them in self-defence. Their rejection stung, sorrow weighing heavily in his heart.

Why would they not give me a chance?

He did not understand humans, but he genuinely, desperately, wanted to.

An ancient wolf spirit he had met in passing—after his latest attempt at conversing with the humans had failed—told him this, in the primordial tongue of nature:

“Do not expect much from them. Human hearts are even fickler than the wind’s, and much less understanding. Better for one such as you and I to keep our distance from the world of man.”

The Dominator of Wolves had seemed so bitter when he talked about them. The dragon didn’t understand him either—despite both sharing the blessings of Anemo—but he was curious. Alas, the lone wolf preferred his own company over that of others.

And so the wind dragon had left that forest, determined to try once more and prove the King of Wolves wrong.

Except, it seemed that he was the one being proven wrong.

I don’t understand... the young dragon sighed, wearily flying away from his latest failed attempts, What am I doing wrong...?

Just as he was about to descend into despair however, he heard a song upon the wind.

He perked up upon hearing it, turning his head left and right to discern its origin. The song was light and airy, bright like a bird’s melody at dawn. That gentle voice sang in the tongue of man, a language the dragon had yet to deciphered, but he could understand its meaning in his heart.

It spoke of warmth and acceptance, a promise of understanding—It spoke of hope.

A faint, fragile spark glowed in his heart. The young dragon tilted his wings and turned towards the direction of the song, excitement and trepidation warring in his chest. Could this be what he was looking for?

The song came from the centre of a forest, played by another winged creature beneath a statue of said being’s visage. In front of the winged creature (Dvalin didn’t think the being was human, despite his appearance. The dragon could sense the blessings of Anemo condensed beneath that human skin), a group of humans stood guard. He didn’t know what they were called, but he recognised the sharp weapons and armours they wore.

Warily, the dragon landed beside the statue.

The singer seemed to ignore his descent as he continued to calmly play his instrument, his eyes gently closed and a smile curving his lips. The humans around him looked startled at the young dragon’s appearance—some even reaching towards their swords—but, for some reason, they hesitated to act. Instead of running away like he expected them to, the humans glanced at the singing winged being, before slowly relaxing.

Confused by this different reaction, he turned his head to observe the singer.

This being was powerful, he could tell from a glance. Pure, condensed Anemo energy lurked behind that deceptively youthful facade, enough to tear down mountains and reshape the land. As young as the dragon was, even he could tell that his draconic might was nothing compared to this being’s.

Instead of doing anything with such power however, the winged creature chose to sing.

Intrigued, the azure dragon settled down and laid his head on top of his claws, content to listen to the other Anemo creature’s song. He kept one eye on the humans in case they attempted anything to him, but he saw that he need not do so. They were all equally enraptured by this being’s song.

Only when the melody reached its natural conclusion, did the singer finally turned to address him.

“Hello,” the winged creature smiled at him, extending an arm out in welcome. Even though he knew that he wasn’t human, the dragon was still surprised that he spoke to him in the primordial language of the elements, “My name is Venti, but the humans tend to call me Barbatos. What is your name?”

“Name?” The azure dragon tilted his head. He noticed out of the corner of his eyes that the humans shifted in their place—perhaps out of wariness—but none of them have touched their swords. “What is the use of that?”

Creatures of nature such as them did not require names. When one came from the very elements themselves; could wield power great enough to change the terrain—what was the use of names?

(More than that, who was there to give them names? Beings such as them were born alone, and often reached sentience on their own, so who was there to give them such a thing?)

“That’s no good! Names are very important!” The winged creature—Barbatos—insisted, “Every being deserves a name to be called upon, and woven into a song!”

The dragon looked skeptical, “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Barbatos nodded firmly, “If you don’t have a name, then do you mind if I give you one?”

He shrugged, “Go ahead.”

Barbatos smiled, so brightly and happily that it would forever be engraved in the young dragon’s memories.

“Then from now on, my friend, your name is Dvalin.”

Dvalin didn’t understand Barbatos then, nor his insistence in naming things. It was only later though, after he met another dragon—this time with the power of Geo simmering beneath his human skin—and gained a human form of his own, did the young dragon understood the blessing that the Anemo Archon had given him.

The rest, as they say, was history.

Vennessa prayed to Celestia, but she did not worship the Anemo Archon.

For why should she? Although she was born free in the plains of Mondstadt, she have been treated as an outsider in the Land of Wind for all her life. The Anemo Archon had never answered her nor her people’s prayers when they starved out there in the verdant fields, stalked for four days straight by Ursa the Drake.

Barbatos has never answered their prayers when they became slaves to the people that the Anemo Archon protected, nor did they show even an inkling of acknowledgement to her pain when she was thrusted into the gladiator colosseum.

How ironic; the God of Freedom was worshipped by those who practiced slavery.

Did she hate the Anemo Archon? Not entirely, for how could one hate that which they never met?

And yet, as she marched into the ring again, Vennessa glanced at the grand statue towering over Mondstadt—at the god’s closed eyes towards the atrocities committed in the so-called City of Freedom—and felt a hint of resentment.

Venti, Vennessa later found, was impossible to hate.

They met by chance on that fateful day at the Ludi Harpastum. He had ran away from one of the ruling nobles after ‘stealing’ the harpastum, and literally stumbled across her. Vennessa knew that—if she wanted to keep herself and her people safe—she should have stepped aside and allowed the Lawrence to imprison him for his ‘crime’, yet she found that she couldn’t.

Back then, when she looked at the boy who had fell in front of her—viridian eyes wide and innocent—Vennessa was briefly reminded of her little sister, sick and alone in their hut. Although she knew her ‘place’, she could not turn a blind eye towards those in need.

Not like the Anemo Archon, Vennessa had thought (erroneously, she later admitted), as she and her people were dragged into prison.

Even trapped within her cell, she could see a glimpse of that statue outside the barred windows, eyes closed as it always did.

A bard in green wandered into her cell. Surprised, she looked and saw that it was the same boy that she had saved. He held the keys to her shackles in his hand and an offer of freedom on his lips.

Vennessa stared at him, before firmly shaking her head.

“We must fight and claim our own freedom,” she told him; a lioness that was beaten and shackled, but not yet cowed or tamed, “We cannot beg for it. We must not kneel for it. Freedom given freely is only a guise for another shackle.”

The boy—Venti—looked stunned, before a smile graced his lips. He looks pleased, Vennessa noted, her brows furrowing in confusion, Why?

The next day, she found her answer.

In the morning light, the Anemo Archon descended for the first time in a thousand years, a lyre in his hand and a familiar smile on his lips. He winked at her and asked if he could be her friend. Later, after Ursa the Drake had been driven away, Barbatos turned to the nobles and made sure that they kept their promises.

All at once, the slave-girl Vennessa became a noble of the country that had imprisoned her and held the keys of said city in her hands.

She did not want this. All she had wanted was freedom for her and her people. This duty, this power was not something she had desired.

Vennessa told as much to Venti—Barbatos—when they met again later inside a private room in her new mansion.

It had originally belonged to Lord Lawrence, and so it reeked of opulence. Vennessa have already decided to throw the unneeded gold and luxuries out; to sell them away so she could give the money to those who needed it. The noble had been most reluctant to part with it, but upon insistence from the very god he supposedly worshipped, Lord Lawrence had given it to her (as promised in their contract).

“I never wanted all this,” Vennessa gestured towards the luxurious study and the view of Mondstadt from the large windows, “All I wanted was to be free.”

“I know,” the Anemo Archon replied, perched on top of the finely-crafted mahogany desk as if it was a common bench. He was now back in his guise as a bard, but Vennessa could no longer see him as the simple boy she once thought he was, “I never wanted this too.”

He brought out his lyre, strumming a tune on its strings, “Would you care to listen to a song?”

Frowning in uncertainty, the redhead warrior sat on the plush seat behind the desk, shifting slightly on it as she was unused to such luxury. Barbatos turned to face her, and began to sing.

He sang of a time of ice and wind, when storm walls blocked the land and forced the people to bow before an aloof tyrant. He sang of a bard who wished to see the birds in flight, and how he had rallied an army with his songs to fight against the Lord of the Tower. He sang of how he and many of his friends died in pursuit of freedom, the very same freedom that the aristocracy have trampled on.

“You are now free, Vennessa,” Barbatos told her once his song have ended, seemingly young eyes weighed by his ancient age, “If you wish to leave, to take your people with you and travel back to Natlan where you can be with Lady Murata again, I would not begrudge you for doing so. I....”

The bard-god bit his lip for a moment—and here, Vennessa could see the youth that she originally thought he was—before he stood up to properly face her. Then, in an move which she could never have expected, the Anemo Archon bowed.

“I’m sorry,” the God of Freedom apologised, head bent low and voice sincere, “I’m sorry that my absence has caused you and your people so much pain.”

How would one react to hearing a god apologised to you? How should you react? Vennessa didn’t know, and as she watched the god she thought had abandoned her people bow before her, a mix of emotion swirled in her chest.

After the initial bout of shock, there came anger. An apology was nowhere near enough to make up for the pain which she and her people have suffered. Then, sorrow at the reminder of her tribe’s sufferings and gratefulness at the acknowledgement of their pain warred inside her, until all she could do was stand and sigh.

The redhead warrior stepped around the large desk, and reached towards the regretful Anemo Archon. He tensed at her approach—perhaps expecting to get hit—but remained bowing before her. Instead of hitting him as he thought (and what she once believed she would do if she ever met Barbatos in person), Vennessa patted his head before pulling him up.

Vennessa did not understand the Anemo Archon, but perhaps she wouldn’t mind getting to know him better.

“I hated you, you know,” she held his shoulders firmly and stared straight into his ancient eyes, “Not a lot, but a little. I’ve always wondered why you abandoned us.”

“I’m sorry, it was never my intention,” Barbatos apologised again, “I...fell asleep, but I know that is no excuse for letting things devolve to this. I’m sorry, if there is anything I can do to make this better, then I will.”

Vennessa stared at him for a moment longer, before she nodded and stepped back. “If you truly want to help,” she turned to face the window, looking at the city that had enslaved her, yet have become so familiar to her that it might as well be her home, “Then help me restore Mondstadt back to its former glory. Help me guide this country back to its former ideals—the same ideals that you once spread.”

Out of the corners of her eyes, Vennessa saw Barbatos blinked.

“While I intend to do so, why would you want to do the same?” The god asked, “This city has caused you and your tribe so much suffering, and yet you wish to stay and make it better?”

“Haha...” The lioness turned to face him, head held high, “It is because we have suffered so much here that I want to stay. We were born here, live here, and have died here. Mondstadt is as much our home as anyone else’s in this city. And I won’t let anyone take that away from us.”

“We have the right to live here as much as anyone else, despite what the aristocracy believes. To leave would mean proving them correct, and I won’t stand for that. This is the Land of Freedom, is it not? Isn’t the freedom to live freely without worries for your life one such freedom that is promised by this country and its Archon?”

“Yes,” Barbatos nodded slowly, a glow in his eyes, “That is correct.”

Vennessa smiled at him, proud and fierce, “Then I will stay, and I will wipe out the aristocracy.”

The Anemo Archon gazed at her for a while, before a slow smile spread across his face. This was not necessarily a pleasant smile, however. To anyone else, it would have sent chills down their spine.

“Over a thousand years ago, the three founding clans swore an oath before the thousand winds to always defend Mondstadt’s freedom and peace,” Barbatos murmured softly, but that teal glow in his eyes became fiercer, “The nobles broke that promise between the people of this land and their Archon when they began to enslave others.”

“In other words, they broke the implicit contract between themselves and me.”

The god in front of her chuckled. It was like the herald to a storm.

“In Liyue, those who break their contracts shall suffer the Wrath of the Rocks.”

“Here, they shall suffer the Wrath of the Winds.”

Afterwards, Vennessa continued praying to Celestia, but it was in the Anemo Archon that she truly believed in.

Much, much later, she stopped praying to Celestia completely, but she still looked over the land of her divine friend with gentle eyes.

The title of the Lion of the South have changed hands over the countless years, passing from one knight to the next. Each have sworn an oath before the thousand winds to defend the freedom that Mondstadt cherished, and each, in turn, have received their own blessing from the Anemo Archon.

Here were but a few examples:

Arundolyn looked on in despair as the black dragon rained fire on Mondstadt. He and his knights have marched to Khaenri’ah to stave off the monsters that have emerged from that godless land, but many had fallen in that battle instead. All they had to show for it was the dead bodies of their comrades and now—this.

He could feel the weight of his failures settled on his shoulders, heavier than the longsword and greatsword he once wielded consecutively in battle.

Rostam, what would you do?

As much as he pleaded and begged however, he would never hear an answer to his prayers. His dear friend and most trusted companion had fallen too in that godless land, far away from the gentle winds of Mondstadt. Would the Anemo Archon Barbatos even be able to reach that godless land and guide the Wolf Pup’s soul back home?

With the death of his closest friend and rival, the Lion of Light’s strength, too, faded away.

Even as destruction rained down upon them, even as the black dragon spewed fire in the sky and turned the once-blue skies red, Arundolyn could no longer find the strength he once possessed to wield his claymores. All he could do, then—as his people looked at him for guidance—was pray.

Oh, Lord Barbatos, if you can hear us, please save us...

Shame burnt through him as he knelt before the great statue of the Anemo Archon in the Main Plaza, bowing his head in prayer while his people screamed and cried all around him. Here he was, the great Lion of the South, unable to defend those he had sworn to protect. Here he was, the pride of all Mondstadt—the one who had wished to become a hero—unable to do the duty he once aspired towards.

But would their god even hear their prayers?

Arundolyn did not understand the Anemo Archon, but he hoped, he prayed that their Lord would listen to them.

Then, as if his prayers had been answered, he heard one of his knights shouted, “Look! The Dragon of the East have arrived!”

The Lion of Light lifted his head up and watched a streak of blue—the colour a stark contrast to the fiery red sky—flew towards the black dragon. Six wings spread from the azure dragon’s back as Dvalin faced his opponent, like a speck of bright blue sky against the fell darkness. And right beside the dragon, was a figure with pure white wings...

“That’s the Anemo Archon!” Arundolyn heard one of his men cried out, “Lord Barbatos has come to save us!”

For the first time since his best friend had died, hope surged in the Lion of Light’s heart. As he tracked the sky battle with entranced eyes, he heard a faint song upon the wind.

It was rallying cry against the darkness; a promise for the coming dawn.

Jean stretched in the seat that the great knights Vennessa and Arundolyn once sat in, extending her arms out to the ceiling and feeling her joints popped.

Paperwork piled on top of her desk in neat stacks, seemingly endless in their size. Taxes, recruitment, guard duties, and more was listed in these reports; so much data and information that it would have intimidated a lesser person. Jean, however, was a Gunnhildr and the current Lion of the South, so she would not be fazed by simple paperwork.

Dauntlessly, she soldiered on.

Even she, however, must take breaks. Alas, she was only mortal, and could not work nonstop. Thus, she forced herself to stop working on the reports and relaxed in her chair, stretching her arms up.

She tilted her head and looked outside the windows. There, under the bright sunlight, she saw children playing while her knights watched over them.

A smile flitted across her face, This is why I work so hard.

Others have questioned why she worked so hard. Surely, they asked her, you want some kind of reward for your diligence? What they did not know was that this precious peace and happiness was, in and of itself, the reward that Jean sought.

As she looked at the playing children, the Dandelion Knight heard a faint song upon the wind.

Ah, she smiled, closing her eyes to enjoy the subtle music, that must be Venti.

It had been a shock to meet her god in the flesh, but after the initial surprise had faded away, she had come to accept him. The bard-god was carefree and loved to drink a little too much, but the Dandelion Knight saw the gentle heart he wore on his sleeve. In fact, Jean was proudto have him as her country’s god.

Yes, many from other countries have criticised her Archon for his hands-off approach in ruling Mondstadt, yet Jean could see the blessing behind what those foreigners saw as a curse.

Freedom, after all, was the greatest blessing of the Anemo Archon. What greater blessing could he possibly give, then, except the freedom to self-determinate?

Whereas the past, present, and future of other lands were determined by their gods, in Mondstadt everything was left to the humans to decide. Whether they fall into ruin or rise in glory, it was all up to them. In other words, their current peace and prosperity was built solelyby humans.

There was pride in that, Jean believed, in how they did not need gods to have come so far.

Here in her office inside the Knight’s Headquarters, she could not see Venti, but she could imagine him standing beneath his statue, playing his lyre and singing a whimsical song.

Jean did not fully understand Venti. As friendly as the bard-god was, there was undoubtedly parts of himself that he hid from mortals, either because of the pain that only immortals could understand, or for some other unfathomable reason that only a god would know. The young Lion of the South didn’t mind, however.

She did not need to understand him to feel the hope and freedom invoked in his songs.

Once, long ago, written in records that have since flew off into the sky, the God of Freedom said this to his people:

“It’s more than language and poetry that flow with the wind.”

The wind carried hope, and the winds of time created faith from that hope, turning the massive windmills and lightly sounding the wind chimes...

Listen closely, and you would hear the wind tell tales full of freedom and meaning...

The people of Mondstadt were not the only ones touched by the wind’s songs. So, too, did those from other lands:

In Inazuma, the Electro Archon ignored the song of freedom brought by the wind, ever-focused on her pursuit for eternity.

In Sumeru, the Dendro Archon murmured ancient ballads of a faraway land to his books and flowers.

In Fontaine, the Hydro Archon laughed and made merry as she watched the spectacle of the court, unable to listen to the melodies of innocence above the guilty verdicts.

In Natlan, the Pyro Archon tilted her head to the wind and sighed, letting the heated chorus of battle hushed in her veins.

And in Snezhnaya, the Cryo Archon quietly hummed a familiar tune under her breath as she quietly plotted her rebellion against the divines.

As for those in Liyue...

See for yourselves.

Guizhong originally did not understand what was so captivating about the new Anemo Archon.

She had first heard of the news of Decarabian’s defeat from her best friend, Zhongli, who had told her that he would be meeting the newly-crowned Archon soon. The Goddess of Dust had nodded and agreed that a meeting would be beneficial for them. After all, Mondstadt was Liyue’s neighbour, and it was important for them to remained updated on the status of their leaders, in case whoever replaced Decarabian decided to extend their territories to the west.

Anything goes in the Archon War, after all.

She didn’t expect much from that meeting. She had thought that it would have gone like all meetings did—quiet and tense, with both sides warily eyeing each other up to gauge what they could gain from the other. Later, she came to regret not going with her friend.

When Zhongli returned, it was with a subtle smile which even he didn’t realise he has on his face.

Guizhong had raised a brow when she saw it. Her friend—kind and gentle as he was—had hardened his heart in the face of war, and so often exhibited a stone-cold facade. What, she had wondered as they met for dinner on Mount Aozang, could have cracked that stone visage and brought a smile to his lips?

Originally, Guizhong did not understand what was so captivating about the Anemo Archon, but she would soon find out for herself.

Their first meeting was in Guili Plains, in a bright, sunny clearing where kites flew overhead.

Guizhong had been keeping an eye on the new wind god ever since he and Zhongli had entered the village. Right now, there was a small lull in the war, and so many have taken that chance to brightened up their homes with colourful decorations and kites. With the increase of visitors from the now-green plains of Mondstadt to the northeast, more and more humans have taken to settling up stalls and shops for the travellers.

It was a nice change from the perpetual gloom that hung over their lands.

To her surprise, Zhongli didn’t seem to notice her; too enraptured by the little wind god who was currently looking up at a kite. She glanced at the new Anemo Archon, seeing how he tilted his head up to the sky and closed his eyes, as if he could listen to the tinkling melodies of the musical kite flying overhead.

She supposed that, if anyone could listen to the wind’s song, it would be him.

Deciding to introduce herself, she stepped forward and approached the duo, “Ah, so this is the new god that everyone has been talking about.”

Her best friend spun to face her, a flicker of rare surprise on his face. “Guizhong,” Zhongli greeted, smiling a bit, “Forgive me, I did not notice you there.”

And you don’t find that odd? Guizhong wondered, amused, “Distracted, hmm? By a certain wind god perchance?”

He actually laughed! Yes, it was a small, quiet thing, but it was an audible sound of amusement nonetheless, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Hmm, sure you don’t,” she lightly tapped his arm, chuckling slightly. Although, knowing how dense her best friend could be, he probably meant it, “Everyone has been talking about you and a certain Anemo Archon.”

Zhongli tilted his head a little, “”Such as...?”

Ahh... I knew it. He really is oblivious.

She grinned, “Why don’t you find out by yourself? On that note, why don’t you introduce me to your new friend?”

Her friend nodded, “Very well then.”

As he introduced her to the new Anemo Archon, she took note of the innocence that was reflected in those viridian eyes, somehow still so wide after the bloodshed he surely must have seen. She observed his charming grin, the theatrical flourish he gave as he playfully teased her back, and found herself smiling honestly, Hahaha, this one is quite the showman!

Lastly, she observed from the corner of her eyes how Zhongli seemed jealous as Guizhong and Venti playfully flirted with each other.

She very nearly laughed, but managed to held herself back. Really, Zhongli, really? She questioned silently, completely amused as her friend offered to buy the wind god the musical kite but forgot his own currency, You’re that smitten over him already, and yet you don’t even have a clue?

Guizhong did not entirely understand why her best friend was so enamoured by this young god, but she could see that the new Anemo Archon didn’t mean harm towards them. That was enough for now. They were gods; she has the rest of eternity to figure out the details later.

For now, she contented herself to teasing Zhongli over his new (oblivious) crush. In this era of god-eat-god, when else would she have the chance to do so?

It was much, much later—after the war had taken a turn for the worse—did Guizhong finally understood her best friend’s attraction.

She stood on the edge of a clearing, watching in amazement as an entire field of glaze lilies bloomed under the moonlight. A gentle song was carried on the wind, originating from the bard in green that sat beneath a tree. Next to him, head bent and eyes closed in sleep, was her best friend, the Warrior God and God of Contracts, Morax.

...Who, in this serene moment, looked like any other tired soldier resting after a battle.

Ah, she realised, so this is why you fell in love with him.

There was no magic imbued in Venti’s song, nor could she feel any traces of elemental energy. No divine power nor compelling hypnosis. There was only the music itself, and the bard who sang it.

His songs were simply so beautiful, that the Lord of Geo’s stone-cold visage broke, and the very earth himself was moved to slumber.

I understand now.

Smiling, Guizhong closed her eyes and listened to the melody of the lyre, peace and hope settling in her heart.

It was only after the song ended, did Guizhong approached the duo and (reluctantly) woke her best friend up. Zhongli tried to apologise for missing his duties (as if he wasn’t overworked already), but she waved it off and said this instead:

“He’s good for you,” she smiled at him, sincere, “I’m glad for you.”

Predictably, Zhongli looked confused, “Thank you?”

Guizhong laughed softly, lightly punching his arm. Ah... this blockhead... she thought fondly as she said, “Don’t worry, I’m sure that, one day, you’ll understand.”

And I hope I will be there with you when you do.

Cloud Retainer, Mountain Shaper, and Moon Carver stared at their liege and leader, peeking from behind a tree as the Prime of the Adepti sat with the Anemo Archon by the banks of the lake on Mount Aozang.

Far across the lake, Rex Lapis took on the guise of a highborn young lady, dressed in the finest golden robes. In contrast, the younger wind god wore his usual green-and-white clothes, which looked quite plain compared to the subtly glittering jewels adorning the Lord of Geo’s jade hairpins and necklaces. Neither seemed to notice this disparity though, too enraptured in whatever topic they were conversing.

The three illuminated beasts didn’t intend to spy on their leader, but they couldn’t help it. They were simply too curious about their leader’s paramour to simply stay put. It wasn’t everyday, after all, that they saw their liege so obviously in love.

Unlike the mortals, they knew that the God of Contracts did not possess a heart of stone, but even they sometimes forgot in the heat of battle.

Here beneath the gentle light of the moon, however, they caught a rare glimpse of the softness that Rex Lapis usually hid behind her usual stone-cold visage. It was there in the way she seated herself behind Barbatos—still around a head taller than the shorter deity in this form—and gently guided his hands to the guqin in front of them. It was clear in how she leaned forward and softly whispered something to the Anemo Archon’s ears, which sparked a bright laughter from the younger god.

That laughter, they saw in wonder, led to a gentle smile upon their liege’s lips.

The three adepti did not understand the Anemo Archon. How did he so easily coax a smile on their leader’s lips? How did he chisel his way through the barriers the Prime of the Adepti erected around her heart, and made his home there?

As they watched, the young Lord of Anemo carefully plucked the strings, following Rex Lapis’ directions. At first, his touch was wary, and the sound the guqin produced was short and awkward. Over time however, he gained more confidence and began playing it with a skill that only one known as the God of Songs could achieve.

Behind him, Rex Lapis smiled and placed her chin on top of his head, leaning forward as she closed her eyes to enjoy the music.

When the song ended, the Anemo Archon turned slightly and tilted his head. They were too far away to hear his question, but after he finished speaking, they saw that their leader reached over to the guqin and began plucking another song on the guqin. Cradled in-between her arms, Barbatos watched her fingers danced over the silk strings, his own hands mimicking her movements in the air.

The jade moon shone gently, almost lovingly, on them as the stars glimmered like jewels in the ink-black sky. Glaze lilies bloomed beautifully all around them, their petals coaxed into blossoming by the melody they weaved together. And yet—like a pair of mandarin ducks playing in the water—their attention seemed wholly focused on the other.

Somehow, for some reason, neither seemed to notice the intimate air around them.

It was enough to make the three illuminated beasts blush. Slowly, they backed away from the private scene, before making a hasty retreat. Once they were far enough, the trio glanced at each other and silently vowed to never speak of this again.

Cloud Retainer, Mountain Shaper, and Moon Carver did not understand how the Lord of Anemo came to have such a powerful effect on their leader, but if it made Rex Lapis happy, then they would not say anything against it.

Ganyu ambled leisurely through the night market of Liyue Harbour, her hands behind her back as she glanced at the wares lining up the lantern-lit streets.

106,327 heartbeats—that was the time that have elapsed since she last rested. In other words, it had been approximately 22 hours since she took a break. Ganyu would have actually worked more, if the Tianshu hadn’t asked her to leave her office for a bit.

This generation of the Tianshu was a kind man. She knew that he was only looking out for her, even though as a half-adeptus she didn’t need it. As consideration towards his concerns, she had decided to take a stroll around Liyue Harbour.

As the chill night breeze brushed against her hair and brought with it the scent of the sea, Ganyu felt the day’s stress melting away. Smiling she tilted her head towards the wind as she walked through the busy street, Ah, it’s nice to take a step back once in a while and see the results of our hard work.

Briefly, she wondered if Rex Lapis too was enjoying the night breeze.

Knowing our lord though, he must be hard at work at ensuring Liyue’s continued prosperity, Ganyu believed, looking up at the star-backed darkened peaks of Mount Tianheng, When was the last time he knew rest?

22 hours was nothing compared to the amount of work the unseen Emperor of Liyue did for his people. As the immortal secretary of Yuehai Pavillion and one of the few who had fought through the Archon War beside him, Ganyu knew that this was a fact.

She has seen him took on various guises whenever she walked through Liyue; as a crafty merchant, a peasant fisherman, a highborn noble, a kind elderly, and more. She knew (and have abetted) in the many machinations that the God of Contracts schemed to ensure the wealth that Liyue now enjoyed. In those plots, Rex Lapis often came to her in the form of an elegant young lady—so as to hide her true identity—to give her the necessary orders for her plans, often awing Ganyu in the process with the breadth and depth of her wisdom.

Ganyu has never seen Rex Lapis rest, not once in all the thousands of years she knew him.

Even as she wandered through the busy night market on her break, the half-qilin resolved to herself, I must work harder still to be worthy of Liyue’s prosperity and the trust he has placed in me.

Music drifted from a corner. Turning her head, she saw children, young adults, and couples dancing to a merry tune. In the center of this crowd, stood a familiar bard in green, playing a song on his lyre.

Ganyu did not really understood the Lord of Anemo. He was so very different from her leader, who worked day and night for the sake of his people. In contrast to the hardworking Geo Archon, the Anemo Archon was a laidback and carefree spirit, who often left his duties to traipsed off to who-knew-where.

And yet, for some reason, Rex Lapis was incredibly fond of this wisp of a god.

Why was that? She often wondered, but never dared question her leader’s wisdom. Perhaps, in his great experience, Rex Lapis has seen something in the wind god that she couldn’t.

That’s another reason for me to work harder. There’s still so much for me to learn...

She was about to turn and walk away, when a joyous, boyish voice called out to her, “Hey, Ganyu! Almost didn’t see you there!”

“Lord—ah...” Ganyu greeted him with a polite bow, almost calling him by his Archon name before she caught herself. They were in public, on the open streets of Liyue. It wouldn’t do to accidentally reveal his true identity, “Lord...Venti, it is an honour to see you again.”

“Aww, don’t be so polite!” Barbatos laughed, waving off her politeness, “Just call me Venti!”

“Yes...Mister Venti,” she reluctantly amended. It felt odd to address the Archon without someform of formality, so she added the ‘Mister’ before his name, even though it sounded odd in her ears. Still, even though Barbatos might not be her direct superior, he still ranked higher than her.

In front of her, the Anemo Archon shook his head, exasperated, “Ah, you haven’t changed, huh, Ganyu? Still as polite as ever I see...”

The half-qilin wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Ganyu shifted awkwardly on her feet, unsure of how to continue the conversation or how to bid a polite goodbye. As friendly as the Anemo Archon was, they were merely passing acquaintances. She couldn’t exactly call him a colleague either, much less a friend.

She... didn’t exactly have friends...

“Why don’t you join us?” Barbatos gestured towards the crowd, saving her from making an awkward conversation starter. The Anemo Archon tilted his head, “You don’t have work, right?”

“No, I’m on a break,” she answered, shaking her head.

“Then it’s all good!” He grinned, suddenly pulling her towards the dancing crowd, “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“Ah, but...” Ganyu couldn’t exactly protest, not when the one tugging her hand held the same status as Rex Lapis. Yet she felt her shoulders hunching as they drew nearer, wishing that she could curl into a ball and hide away.

She... didn’t really know how to interact with humans outside of work...

“It’ll be okay,” As if sensing her trepidation, the Anemo Archon smiled gently at her, eyes crinkling up in joy. He took both of her hands in his, “Here, I’ll guide you, okay? Just focus on me and have fun!”

Shyly, she nodded, lifting her eyes from the ground to look at him. Barbatos grinned again, and pulled her into a dance. Ganyu gasped at he suddenly spun them around, before laughter bubbled up inside her as the Anemo Archon sang and laughed too.

Music drifted up and around them; a merry melody that matched the festive lantern-lit streets. All around them, humans spun and danced, their laughter and joy adding to the songs of the night. Right here, with the Anemo Archon in front of her and swinging their hands together, Ganyu forgot about the gulf between mortals and immortals.

For that single night, Ganyu was part of the night scene in Liyue.

One day, on a whim, the Lord of Anemo decided to put aside his lyre and crafted a makeshift flute from plain bamboo.

He was travelling to Jueyun Karst that day by foot, having decided to surprise the Lord of Geo with a visit. On his way, he saw a lithe bamboo by the road and thought, Oh, why don’t I try playing the flute for once?

He had gotten slightly bored of constantly playing the lyre. Besides, it would make for a nice surprise too!

So with a sharp slice of wind, he cut off the bamboo and carved holes into the wood. When he blew a tune into it, the melody that came out was quite warbly, causing him to wince. He wasn’t a master craftsman, so it was to be expected that his hastily made flute was nowhere near as good as those sold in shops, but thankfully he did have an ear for music.

It took a little work, but when he next blew into the makeshift flute, the tune that came out was at least pleasant enough to hear.

Satisfied, he played a whimsical tune on the flute and continued on his journey, never realising the effects of his carefree actions towards a certain adeptus.

Xiao gritted his teeth and pushed himself up, leaning against his spear as he made his trek... home?

No, where on this earth could one such as he called home? It was more accurate to say that he was merely leaving another battlefield. As to where he would go next...

The Guardian Yaksha didn’t really know, but he didn’t care. The only thing a being such as himself could do was kill, and so he would go to wherever the next slaughter would be held. The concept of ‘home’ was unnecessary for creatures such as him.

And yet—

Xiao stumbled and fell, biting his lips as pain surged through his body.

Long, long ago, the Lord of Geo had liberated him from his cruel master, and gave him the name ‘Xiao’ to mark the beginning of his new life. In return, Xiao had sworn an oath to defend Liyue, hoping that one day he would be able to repay his debt of gratitude. When he told his new lord as much, an odd look had crossed Rex Lapis’ face.

“I give you this name so that you can be free,” his saviour had told him, “If you wish to fight for me, then so be it, but only do so out of your own free will.”

From that moment on, Xiao fought against the darkness that manifested in Liyue.

The Guardian Yaksha held back a scream as black tendrils crept over his skin, digging at his many wounds and forcing him to roll on the debris of the battlefield. No matter how much he tried however, he couldn’t tear off these tendrils. For how could he, when this was the accumulation of his karmic debt made manifest?

As the Conqueror of Demons, it was his duty to fight against the evil manifestations produced by the remnants of defeated gods. However, these evil gods held immense power, even after they have perished from this world. As such, even fragments of their vengeful spirits could be poison to the soul.

Xiao has relentlessly slaughtered countless manifestations of those evil gods’ fragmented souls, and the hateful taint they left behind lingered deep, corrupting his own spirit. No wonder, then, that he was left with such pain.

And yet Xiao felt no hatred towards these evil gods. After all, he was an immortal; these karmic debt would eventually be paid off in time. He knew that no grudge could last a thousand years.

This time, however...

“Aaahhh!!!” Unable to bear it any longer, Xiao screamed, clawing at the dirt in a vain effort to stave off the pain.

Alone and tired from the fierce battle, Xiao could no longer endure his accumulated karmic debt. The divine hatred left behind by those defeated gods took over his body, causing him to cry in agony. Limitless hatred that didn’t belong to him swept over him, knocking him low when not even demons could have done so.

This time, there was no Rex Lapis, no benign god to save him from his suffering.

So this is where I fall...

Briefly—through the sheer agony and hurt piercing his mind—Xiao mourned that he would never be able to repay his debt to Rex Lapis.

I’m so sorry, milord...

Then, as suddenly as it arrived, the pain vanished without warning.

The clear, lovely sound of a flute came over the mountains and rivers, carried on the wind to where he laid. Who’s playing this music...? He wondered, closing his eyes as he rested his cheek against the cool ground, Who...?

As far as he could discerned, there were no traces of magic or elemental energy in that song. It was simply a clear, happy tune, almost whimsical in its easygoing sweetness. Yet this unknown melody protected Xiao, calming his wild senses, and gave him a precious moment of peace.

The Guardian Yaksha found that he could breathe again.

He took a deep breath, before slowly letting it out, matching the rhythm of that laidback song. Overhead, the moon watched as the music washed away the divine hatred tainting his soul, while the stars danced to its merry tune. The flute’s songs continued to rang clearly through the night, until the first light of dawn brought with it the startled flight of distant birds.

For a short moment, Xiao wondered if he should find this unknown musician.

He didn’t, because he already had something approaching to an answer.

Among the few whom Rex Lapis considered his closest friends was a certain bard in green, who loved to drink and sing merry songs. He often played the lyre, but Xiao knew that the wind god could play other instruments too. A flute, then, wouldn’t be so farfetched...

The last person who could help him was one of the Seven themselves. So this mysterious musician, too, must be—

Xiao did not understand Barbatos—the Anemo Archon’s actions was often too whimsical and carefree for someone as serious as he. Then again, he didn’t truly understood Rex Lapis either, finding his fascination with birds, antiques and flowers to be strange. Both Archons were an enigma to the adeptus.

One did not need to understand however, to feel grateful.

In the thousands of years to come, Xiao never dared to broached the subject of that song to Venti, fearing that his beliefs would be dashed by reality. He did, however, learnt to play the flute, and would often play it atop the roofs of a treetop inn whenever his memories became too much to bear. It brought him comfort when the nights grew too long and dark.

Sometimes, the Anemo Archon would join too, and the Guardian Yaksha would once again remember the peace he felt on that day.

(Venti would not learn of the results of his whimsical actions until over two thousand years have passed. Even then, he would simply laugh and brushed off his feats with a smile. Such was the nature of the carefree wind.)

Written in a book whose pages have long since flew off into the wide blue yonder, were the words a poet once sang:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers,

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all.

And sweetest, in the Gale, is heard,

And sore must be the storm,

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest Sea,

Yet never in Extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Immortals and people of great standing were not the only ones touched by the wind’s songs. So too, did ordinary mortals:

In Mondstadt, a nun with a dark past bowed her head in a grateful prayer as the chorus sang songs of worship all around her.

In Liyue, a sailor’s wife whispered a hymn to the breeze in hopes of fair winds for her husband’s journey.

In Inazuma, a samurai blew cherry blossoms petals to the sea in the place of dandelion seeds, inspired by the tales of such flowers carrying hopeful messages upon the wind.

In Sumeru, a scholar traced a finger on an ancient text, detailing the lost ode to wind and time.

In Fontaine, the spirit of rock and roll mingled with ballads from far away lands; a backdrop to the spectacle in the courtrooms.

In Natlan, a warrior stamped his feet and clapped his hands to pump himself up before a fight—a battle chorus burning bright in his blood.

In Snezhnaya, amidst the frigid permafrost, a mother murmured a lullaby of distant green plains to her daughter.

And deep within the Abyss, by the roots of the Silver Tree, the Bough Keeper Dainsleif recorded each note and song, to quietly hum in that perpetual meantime of a sheltered eternity.

As for the earth himself...

See for yourself.

There were many rumours about the Lord of Geo.

In those days, the rumor among the common folk was that the Lord of Geo was a cold and unfeeling god. His conduct was just in all things and his judgments were rational and dispassionate, but he lacked normal human sentiment. Like the rocks, he was without warmth or softness.

It was also said that during the years when the gods contended against one another, Rex Lapis’ aspect was that of boundless slaughter. In those god-eat-god battles, one could never have ascribed gentleness to him.

He knew right from wrong, and never missed his mark. In those days of tumult, he would show no mercy, even to friends-turned-foes.

Rex Lapis’ stone-cold expression never once changed throughout that storied age.

In those ancient days, it was said that the Lord of Geo possessed a heart of stone.

One day, the Lord of Geo met a certain young god upon a mountain.

Mortals knew little of the breadth and depth of their friendship. All they knew was that they were once part of the original Seven, and now were the only ones left from that war-torn age. Very, very few have heard of the stories they shared between songs and cups of wine.

One day, the Lord of Geo overheard the Lord of Anemo singing to a fever-ridden child.

That human boy was not one of his own, yet the Anemo Archon cared for him as if he was anyway. He didn’t have a duty towards his people—they did not even have any sort of formal contract between them—but the wind laughed and did what he pleased.  To this day, the Geo Archon still cradled that carefree wisdom he dropped like pearls on that night, though the other might have forgotten already:

“If people can hurt others for no reason, then what reason do I need to help someone? It doesn’t matter that he’s not one of mine—I still want to help anyway.”

For that and so much more, the Archaic Lord of the Land of Stones gifted him with a song.

Zhongli had his back to the Rite of Parting, choosing instead to stare at the setting sun.

How poetic; after so long, the sun has set upon his reign, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to regret that fact. He had ruled for far too long, carried the burden of duty for too many millenniums, that this end brought only a sense of peace for him.

All things must end, after all. Adamant stone, steadfast mountains, immovable earth... one day, they too must change with the times.

Long, long ago, when this grand harbour-city was but a small village that laid between the mountains and tides, he had promised to guide and protect the people of Liyue. Back then, such divine guidance was the greatest blessing he could give. Under his order, that fragile golden flower have now bloomed into the splendorous sight before him.

Times have changed however, and now, the greatest blessing the Lord of Geo could give was the freedom to self-determinate.

To rise in glory or fall into ruins—now it was all up to them. If they wish to further their current peace and prosperity, then it would be on them to make that happen. Their future would now be determined by their own hands.

(This was a lesson the Anemo Archon had unknowingly taught him.)

One day, Zhongli knew, the people of Liyue would stand with pride at the knowledge that they didn’t need gods to achieve so much.

I only hope that I can be there to see it when that happens...

“Hey, Zhongli,” his dear friend—the God of Freedom and his fellow Archon—spoke up from beside him, pulling him away from his musings, “Aren’t you going to look at your own funeral?”

Zhongli turned to look at him. By the glow of the setting sun, the wind god’s viridian eyes were warm and soft, looking at him curiously. It was a far cry from the anger and betrayal he saw when the other learnt of his deception.

The memory of his friend’s pained look still haunted him. He would need to do something to make it up to Venti later.

“There’s no need for me to look,” Zhongli answered, not even sparing a glance at the gold-and-copper serpentine body draped over the altar. He had made that form from Geo energy; making another was as easy as breathing for him, “I am still here, after all.”

“Yeah, but you spent all that time and effort into making this,” the other god gestured at the splendid altar, fit for a god of his standing, “Not to mention, you spent all that Fatui money...”

“Hahaha...” he chuckled softly, “If you must know, I didn’t plan this funeral for myself, but for them.”

Zhongli tilted his head to the crowd, watching as realisation made those lovely viridian eyes widened.

“I see... for your people, huh? Ever dutiful until the end...” Venti shook his head fondly, a quiet laughter evident in his murmur, “Unlike me who left my people constantly wondering if I’m even still alive, you wanted to give them a sense of closure.”

He nodded, “Before one can move on, they must first be able to say goodbye.”

“Every meeting is a miracle,” Six thousand years ago, his teacher had told him this as the then-young adeptus’ final lesson and blessing, “Thus I give you the courtesy name Zhongli, in the hopes that, when the time of parting comes, you will be able to say farewell elegantly.”

In his long life, he has met countless people, and shall meet countless more still. He could no longer keep track of the number of times he had said goodbye, as well as the amount of times he wasn’t able to say it. Through it all, Zhongli strove to be worthy of the courtesy name his teacher had given him.

“Do you have any regrets?” Venti looked up at him with curiosity.

He shook his head, smiling faintly, “No... and if I still have any left now, I shall entrust it to the wind to take it where it may.”

That earned him a quick burst of laughter, “Hahaha! Thanks for your trust...”

“Though, I suppose there is one thing...” Zhongli glanced at his friend, a subtle sly smirk on his lips, “It’s a shame, but I wish Xinyan was able to play at my funeral.”

Venti blinked, “The rockstar? Why would you want her to perform here?”

“I thought it would be good for her. At the time, it seemed she didn’t have any performances lined up, so I thought to ask her,” the God of Liyue explained, sighing softly, “Unfortunately, even Xinyan thought that it would be inappropriate for her to perform at the Rite of Parting. Something about how this was ‘Rex Lapis’ funeral and he deserves the highest honour’, or something along that lines.”

“I tried to get Hu Tao to convince her, but even she thought that it was inappropriate,” Zhongli frowned slightly, “Really, that prankster thinks that it’s inappropriate. I suppose it’s a good thing that Hu Tao takes her duty as funeral director so seriously, but if I want to have rock music in my own funeral, then...”

“Wait, wait—You wanted to have rock music in your funeral!?” Venti gaped at him, “I thought you prefer traditional Liyuean songs?”

“I do,” Zhongli nodded, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate Xinyan’s contributions to Liyue’s culture. Her passion, at least, is commendable.”

“Still...” The wind god shook his head, amused, “Rock music? I know you’re the Lord of Rocks and all, but really...”

He shrugged, “It’s interesting and electric, and it would make this funeral a more... festive affair. I do not want my people to only mourn my passing after all, but also celebrate the life I have lived.”

“But isn’t such loud music against the traditions of the Rite of Parting?”

“It’s my funeral,” the Lord of Geo didn’t do petulance nor did he pout, but it was a very near thing, “I should at least be allowed to pick the music.”

Venti, predictably, laughed. It was a good thing they were far from the crowd or else the wind god would’ve been berated, “Hahaha, of course, of course!”

“Well, if it’s music that you want...” His dear friend winked at him, a teasing grin on his lips. That sight usually heralded some sort of headache for the God of Contracts, “Then I’ll give you a show worthy of the Geo Archon’s parting!”

Before Zhongli could stop him, Venti disappeared in a gust of wind.

As the millenniums passed and the world spun ever onwards, the wind continued searching for a song that could break stones, never realising that he has already attained it.

Here, now, listen to the song that has moved the earth.

As the sun left the sky and the moon rose in its place, the people of Liyue mourned their Archon’s passing.

Folks of all manners of life have gathered to bid farewell to their Archaic Lord—nobles and peasants, soldiers and thieves, sailors and pirates; all mingled together for once in Yujing Terrace. For this was a day to be engraved in their memories; it was finally time for them to bid farewell to their ancient ruler.

Solemn music played from the orchestra—a mournful elegy to the Lord of Stones. In the crowd, more than a few have shed tears and bowed their heads in prayer.

Then, slowly, almost subtly so, another melody joined the strings of the erhu, guzheng, and guqin.

It rose from an unknown source, causing murmurs to ripple from the tearful mass. The crowd looked left and right, seeking the origins of that unknown song, but found no one. Quietly, the musicians among them realised that it was the faint melody of a lyre.

“The moon is bright, the wind is quiet...” A gentle voice sang in the lantern-lit darkness, hushing the orchestra in its sudden appearance, “The tree leaves hang over the window...”

Light descended from the sky, like starlight coalescing into a teardrop which slowly dripped from the inky pool of the glittering night sky. The people of Liyue gaped at it, pointing at the orb of light that outshone the moon. They watched in awe as that orb seemed to burst in a gust of wind and feathers, revealing an angelic figure with pure white wings.

“Lord Barbatos!”

“That’s the Anemo Archon of Mondstadt!”

“What is he doing here?” Someone cried out, “Is he here for our Lord?”

This was the first time the Anemo Archon was seen in over a thousand years. They knew that he was one of the original Seven along with Rex Lapis, but they knew not of the breadth and depth of the two Archons’ friendship. Before this day, they would have thought that the Geo and Anemo Archons were simply peers and colleagues, but now, as they gazed upon the God of Freedom’s divine form and heard his soft song, they realise that the gods’ relationship went far deeper than that.

“My little baby, go to sleep quickly,” Barbatos of Mondstadt sang, descending slowly upon the magnificent stone altar of the Lord of Geo. He ignored their questions, focusing instead on the golden dragon that laid still in front of him, “Sleep, dreaming sweet dreams...

The Liyue Qixing had stood in front of the dais, fitting for their status as the leaders of the country. Upon the Anemo Archon’s descent however, they had stepped back and motioned for the Millelith that stood guard around the Geo Archon’s body to stand down. Silently, they watched as the ancient god mourned his fallen friend.

“The moon is bright, the wind is quiet...”

“The cradle moves softly...”

With his eyes hidden beneath the shadows of his hood, nobody could see the Anemo Archon’s face, save for his lips that gently smiled upon their Lord. Now, with his back towards the crowd and pure white wings spread out behind him, no one could see the expression on his face.

“My little one, close your eyes...”

“Sleep, sleep, dreaming sweet dreams.”

This was a lullaby, they slowly realised, a sweet melody to coax one to sleep. Of all the sorrowful elegies and hymns the God of Songs could have sang, he instead chose this mellifluous cradle song. Not to mourn or cry, but as a prayer—a wish—for the God of Contract’s peaceful slumber.

How much burden has their Archaic Lord been carrying?

“The moon is bright, the wind is quiet,” the God of Freedom murmured, stepping closer to the dead body, “The tree leaves hang over the window...”

They could not see his face or expression, but they saw how the last of the original Seven bent down, leaning close to their Lord’s draconic head, as if he was about to confer unto him a blessing. Softly, tenderly, the Lord of Anemo concluded his angelic song.

“My little baby, go to sleep quickly...”

“Sleep, dreaming sweet dreams...”

As the final notes of that archaic lullaby faded into the still night, the God of Freedom bent down and pressed a reverent kiss on the God of Contract’s forehead.

“My dear friend,” the people of Liyue overheard his tender blessing, “May you find the repose that you so greatly deserve, for now...”

“You are free.”

As the crowd watched, spellbound by the Anemo Archon’s performance, a certain Archaic Lord saw it all unfold with a small smile.

Zhongli did not understand his friend’s penchant for the dramatics, but in this case, he was grateful for him. This performance was truly breathtaking, even for the God of Songs.

And to know that it was all for him...

Venti raised his head from where he had pressed a tender kiss on his draconic form’s forehead. For a brief moment, jealousy flashed through him and Zhongli wished that it was him that was on that altar, and not the still ‘corpse’. Then, their eyes met, and he saw the kind smile on his friend’s face.

Just like that, any trace of negativity was purged from him, replaced with a feeling as light and airy as the wind.

Slowly, Zhongli nodded his head and smiled back, eyes soft and expression sincere.

Then, in a fit of inspiration, the presumed dead Geo Archon reached into the remnants of Geo energy left within the dragon’s body. With a thought, he sent out an order and grinned as he watched that gold-and-copper serpentine body turned to stone.

A stellar performance like that deserved a stellar ending.

When the Exuvia’s metallic scales turned to grey stone, Venti took a step back, brows knotted in confusion as he glanced at his friend.

Venti did not understand what he was thinking; he couldn’t be mad at him for the lullaby, right? Zhongli had looked so happy too. Now, though, the Geo Archon looked as inscrutable as ever.

His question was answered when the stone scales cracked, revealing golden light. More and more fractures formed all over the now-stone body, the space where it ruptured gleaming with Geo-gold energy. For a moment, Venti was reminded of the Inazuman art called kintsugi, where they repaired broken pottery by mending the breaks with gold.

One’s imperfections need not be covered or thrown away, that was—Venti tried to remember—the philosophy behind the art, Because those flaws and cracks are part of your history, part of you.

Then, the stone dragon shattered, showering firefly-like golden lights upon him.

Awed, Venti looked up in wonder, seeing those aureate brilliance sparkled all around him—some even glimmering on his white wings—before floating away to the sky as if they were about to join the stars. Distantly, he could hear the crowd’s murmurs swell like an incoming tide, but he ignored them in favour of looking at his best friend.

What he saw took his breath away.

There, backlit by the glow of the stars and the glittering gold, stood Zhongli—the Archaic Lord of the Land of Stones—watching over him gently with a genuine smile upon his lips.

What Venti did not know was that Zhongli was observing him, too, breath also taken away by the scene he saw before him. For a moment, he was reminded of the time he realised he had fallen in love with the wind god, amidst the glow of a thousand lanterns.

Even now—like this moment right here—that memory shone brightly in his mind like gold.

There was a rumour among the populace that the Lord of Geo possessed a heart of stone.

If such talk was true, then that stone heart had cracked upon hearing a song so beautiful, it moved the very earth himself.

There were some things that simply could not be understood. Things that could only be felt and touched by the heart.

Like the gentle caress of the wind, the songs that were carried upon the breeze, or the fragile, delicate light of hope...

Of the earth and the wind, there were many things which they did not understand about each other. Such was only the natural consequence of being so different. But this should not be cause for despair.

Because for all their differences, they were alike in many important ways.

After all, was it not the Lord of Anemo himself who once said this to the Lord of Geo?

“Like how songs are best carried by the wind from the tops of mountains and cliffs, so too is the foundation of freedom—the kind of freedom which allows everyone to be happy—made out of contracts.”

Thus, though they may not always agree with each other, understanding could blossom between them.

There was an ancient scripture that recorded the songs of the winds, passed from generation to generation among the observers of rituals in service to the Anemo Archon.

Countless hands have touched the now-yellowing pages of this book, though any prints they left have since been carried away by the wind. When the era of Mondstadt’s aristocracy had ended and the Church was finally unshackled, the scriptures of the wind could bear no longer being confined to a shelf and flew off into the skies.

Like the winds and people of Mondstadt, it belonged to freedom and the skies.

On the book’s title page, it was written:

Children of the Anemo Archon, heed these words:

From the winds we have come, and with the winds we shall go.

Never, ever grieve for me.

'Tis but my flesh and bones which rest in the soil:

My soul has become one with the thousand winds.

When flowers bloom, when leaves sway,

That is me who sings the songs of freedom, of the winds.

Venti climbed up the cliffs that surrounded Old Mondstadt—now known as Stormterror’s Lair—and walked towards a certain cape that overlooked the once-great tower.

Just like he had left it, cecilias and small lamp grasses grew around the solitary grave, the blue flowers subtly glowing in the dark of the night. Beneath the starlight, it was difficult to read the name on the gravestone, the winds of time having eroded the etchings he had engraved on the solid stone. Venti reminded himself to chisel his friend’s name again before he left.

The wind god sat down in front of his first friend’s resting place, absentmindedly plucking a tune from his lyre. For a moment, he simply stared at the headstone, before he slowly began speaking.

“Hey...” Venti murmured, his smile small and eyes somber, “It’s been a while, huh? A lot has happened since I last visited you, my friend.”

“Dvalin finally woke up from his slumber, but he was corrupted and manipulated by the Abyss Order. But don’t worry! He’s okay now. Lumine, a Traveller from another world, managed to purify him, and now he’s free to do what he wants.”

“Ah, but you saw it from here didn’t you, my friend? Well, let me tell you, it was quite a fight! We prevailed in the end though, so it’s all okay~”

“But well... this is a bit embarrassing... Soon after the whole Stormterror Incident, I got my Gnosis stolen. Really! My Gnosis! And it was stolen by a Fatui Harbinger too. I wonder why the Tsaritsa is collecting them...”

“Speaking of her, I haven’t spoken to her in 500 years. I wonder how she’s doing...”

“Oh, and talking about the other Archons, did you know that Zhongli’s retired now? He has given away his Gnosis as part of his contract with the Tsaritsa. Hmm... I wonder what he got in return. Knowing him, it must be truly great for him to part with his Gnosis.”