Chapter Text
We look at the world once, in childhood. The rest is memory.
He had been a bird before he was an adeptus, a child of wind before a slave and the conqueror of demons. His memories from his earliest years are… vague, faded. Glossy golden feathers, drift currents in cooling air, fresh snow and qingxin at the summits of mountain peaks. Flocks paying homage, calling him the golden-winged peng king. Few traces of avarice or conceit, but a yearning, a curiosity, a desire to fly forever so one can see all that can be seen, let the wind on one’s wings carry forth all the blessings -
There had been no words for those feelings, back then. Even the path of the adeptus, which grants one ascended awareness, life, understanding, and serenity, does not have a place for it. He had become a king because it was proclaimed, and then an adeptus because it was easy. Everything that came after has been...
(He doesn’t know what to make of it, so he doesn’t.)
“Nearly done!” The blonde face that’s peering down at him might as well be a miniature of the lady knight’s. “Just hold on and don’t move - ”
He sighs and continues to resist the urge to wince.
They are in the graveyard behind the Mondstadt cathedral, surrounded by the tombstones of all the city’s mortal dead. Barbara has apparently protested when he suggested that he get treated here, mumbled something about bad karma and lack of access to her equipment. He has told her in extremely firm terms that it’s better to gather all the bad karma in one place than to let it spread.
“- And done . That should be the last broken bone. You really do have hollow bones - makes fixing them easier. Just - please don’t try to fight, okay? If you do...” The girl swallows, looking stricken. “I mean, on any other occasion, I’d just order strict bed rest. You shouldn’t even be walking, much less trying to dash and fly.”
“I am an adeptus from Liyue. Our constitutions and tolerances are different.” He tries to stretch and - ow . “I’m used to injuries, too. From fighting.”
“ - Don’t try to move that much yet!! Lord Barbatos, please give it at least another few hours. Or days.” The girl catches him before he completely loses his balance, then, looking frustrated, begins to glance around. “If only the other sisters are here...”
“The fewer people we have here, the better. I’ve mentioned this.”
“Ugh! I just need someone to help me grind some valberries. It would help you with the pain. I… swear, you remind me of my sister sometimes. She also always insists that she’s fine and tries to leave right away, even though she’s covered in cuts and bruises.” The girl throws him a look that’s half-distressed and half-wounded, and then her blue eyes widen. “Don’t tell me this is just something you anemo wielders do - that doesn’t make any sense, Sucrose is perfectly nice and helpful!”
He stares at the cobblestone road by the side of the cathedral and thinks about the statue below, that serene braided figure with outstretched hands and a benevolent smile. I don’t know. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
The girl looks away, as if embarrassed. “You were injured trying to help our Archon. I am a deaconess of this church, a servant of Lord Barbatos. It’s the last I can do.”
“I have not been able to help yet. I only have - ” Leads. Suspicions. A deeply foreboding feeling. He rubs his temple slowly, more to comfort himself than anything else. An idle thought occurs to him, so he decides to follow it, unsure of where it might lead but feeling like it’s the right thing to pursue. “Please, Sister Barbara. I know you’ve never met the Archon in person, but… could you tell me how you - and the Church - think of him?”
If anything, the blush on the girl’s cheeks expand at the question, but as seconds pass, she seems to have gathered her resolve. When she turns back to him at last, her face is serious, and her hands are touching each other in a half prayer pose. “Me? Lord Barbatos? I… I guess for the most part, I just really admire Him. My father, Cardinal Page, is the Cardinal of Daybreak, and my mother… is descended from the Gunnhildr clan of nobility. My father has instructed me in the ways of worship since I was little, and I’ve read about Mondstadt history from the library. Lord Barbatos… he saved Mondstadt from the tyrant Decarabian, transformed the land, established New Mondstadt, and always returned whenever the people went astray. He gave our people freedom, showed us what it means, and has helped us enjoy it to this day. These flowers, you see - the wreaths, the dandelion puffs, the songs and celebrations of Windblume - these are all gifts from Barbatos. He instructs us to live free, and to always treasure life’s blessings. My father and I - and I’m sure my sister and church sisters as well - all hold that close to our hearts. I - I really hope you will be able to help Lord Barbatos.”
“- And why is a Liyue adeptus trying to ‘help’ the Archon of Mondstadt, hm?”
He stiffens. There’s an ice spear pointed at his back.
“- Sister Rosaria! Please, this is just a misunderstanding! Adeptus Xiao is here at the invitation of Acting Grandmaster Jean. And - ”
“- And he’s obviously heavily injured. Fresh injuries, too. Injuries so severe that you have been called upon to help, away from your Windblume duties.” A… Mondstadt nun dressed in wine red has materialized behind the two of them, her eyebrows knitted in a tight frown. She has not moved a single inch - if she chooses to impale him here and now with her polearm, there’s not a single thing he can do about it. “I smell… something fishy.”
Even if I may die, I will not die sitting down. Gritting his teeth and ignoring Barbara’s cries of alarm, he forces himself to stagger to his feet. Immediately, pain perfuses through every joint, limb and muscle, the burning sensation searing with every breath; it takes all of his will to speak instead of scream. “... Sister Rosaria. I have been sent here on the official orders of my lord the Geo Archon Rex Lapis, with the explicit instruction to support Lord Barbatos in his work. I will not have you disrespect our motives.”
“Oooh. But my sources tell me that Rex Lapis is dead, and Liyue’s very own Wangsheng Funeral Parlor has already put his spirit to rest through an elaborate funeral.”
Something in his head stops turning. He hisses.
“You are also here now, at the back of the cathedral, being nursed by Barbara. What work have you actually done to support the Anemo Archon?”
He can only vaguely still hear Barbara as he prepares, despite the excruciating pain, to summon his spear. He’s in no condition to come up with a good explanation for himself; ergo, if the woman is also not interested in hearing him out, a fight is all but inevitable. May Lord Rex Lapis bless me. The spear’s now in his grasp, the deep green of its symmetrical tips making him dizzy. “If we must - ”
“Sister Rosaria, don’t - ”
There’s a loud crack , and several strikes of lightning at once.
The last thing he sees before he loses consciousness is a sparkling field of lavender.
“You really are a troublesome one, aren’t you? But that makes it fun. We haven’t had a visitor like you for ages.”
His eyes snap open.
“You can relax. Jean and Barbara left you with me. I am the librarian that you had been looking for.”
He is… lying in a field. Tall, youthful blades of grass caress his cheeks, and all around him, insects and birds hum and sing. The light is lazy and radiant, the sky on the distant horizon starting to glow a warm shade of tangerine. The woman who must have saved him - a tall, slender figure dressed in the same shade of lavender as the fray lightning - is sitting by a small table a few feet away, sipping from a dainty porcelain cup.
“Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Lisa. As of right now, I work as the keeper of the Knights of Favonius’ library.”
He recognizes, dimly, that he must have talked to more mortals in the span of the past two days than the past two centuries.
“Come on now. Barbara told me you should be able to enjoy some late afternoon tea. Consider it my treat for… not having been more thorough in my culinary advice to Jean.”
He… sits. The chair she’s left for him is lower, comfortable. It didn’t take much effort to climb onto, and his feet can actually touch the ground. His spine hurts a little, but he’ll be fine like this, as long as he doesn’t have to sit for too long. Confused - and quite utterly out of his element, metaphorically or otherwise - he reaches for a cup with slightly trembling fingers. A glance is all that’s needed to tell that the liquid is actually high quality Qingce tea.
A part of him is convinced that everything that’s happened to him since he left Liyue has been a dream.
Another part of him is wondering if he’s actually in someone else’s dream, and he should just devour it all to get it over with.
“... Thanks.”
“The Traveler’s sent over some more almond tofu from Wangshu, too. I got some ice cubes from Diona, to keep them nice and chilled.” She smiles. “And before you ask - no, there are no updates for you from Liyue.”
This amount of hospitality is… unsettling. “... How is Lord Barbatos?”
For once, a glimmer of something darker flashes past the librarian’s eyes. “Still sleeping. The corruption’s grown quite a bit worse, however. Jean can see it now.”
The tea’s grown bitter in his mouth. He swallows - though Rex Lapis, now Mr. Zhongli, would call the act sacriligious, he’s never really cared for tea etiquette - and slowly puts his cup down. The pattern on the porcelain features an orange blossom, its petals unfurling symmetrically like one of the gigantic windmills in the city across the lake. A Windblume. He wonders how he’s ever going to be deserving of the hospitality, or, more distantly, how he’s gotten so entangled in this foreign mess at all.
(The easier-to-stomach answer: he sucks at saying no once he’s been caught.)
(The not-admitted-to answer: it’s the flute.)
In his inner eye he’s falling again, a small bird captured, and then mercilessly thrown out, by that impossible gale around the heart of the storm. He’s only been completely put out of battle commission. If he is to return, he has no faith that he’ll be able to escape with his soul, much less also that of another, the one that’s obviously being held hostage, the prize, the god.
(How does it feel, being good at only one thing, then being rendered useless at even that?)
He says the truth, for it’s the one thing he can do. He hates it with all of his being.
“I don’t know if there’s anything I can do.”
Lisa’s leaf-green eyes are still fixated on him. “So I’ve heard. I can assure you that Jean and Diluc did not know. Neither did I nor any of our records. The Traveler’s - and I assume your Lord’s - guesses seem correct, however. An archon remnant is now leaking out of Barbatos and into Mondstadt. It’s a dark day indeed, when even Liyue’s own Conqueror of Demons can promise no relief.”
He can feel more and more of his blood congeal with each sentence. “I don’t understand. If it’s that particular Archon - ”
“Decarabian. You didn’t think he would be so strong, right? After all, our history suggests that he fell to a rebellion led by a bard, a knight, and an elf. There also has been no records of him ever since, unlike Andrius, who chose to become one of the Four Winds. If Decarabian truly became a remnant and started to contaminate the land...”
“It doesn’t make sense.” - Decarabian should have started to do so over two thousand years ago . Xiao himself has also come to this conclusion; it’s the implications that he hasn’t wanted to think about. “I’ve fought dozens of dead gods. I’ve fought immensely strong dead gods. Their deaths should have reduced them... That’s the entire point of the Wars, from back during that time! We fought to rid the world of unfit Archons, so the victors can claim the gnoses and establish their nations. If they can just freely remain until the present day...”
Guizhong’s visage floats into his mind, her gentle touch and exquisite dance. Havria arrives bleeding and alone at the Negotiations table, flanked on both sides by those coveting her last gifts and last breath. Hundreds of disembodied souls hunger for revenge and salvation in his head, crimson dreams of carnage and black tendrils of death. Though they now have neither visage nor voice, they are still clamoring for him to slice the woman in fron of him into a dozen asymmetrical pieces, to shower Mondstadt in slaughter and grime.
He ignores them.
-Small bird. Are you here to tell me your wishes for freedom?
Those things are not supposed to ever last long enough to relearn their voice.
“... That would just go up against everything I’ve ever known.” The Yaksha order would be a lie. The sacrifice of all his brothers-in-arms would be a lie. “And that’s not even considering the fact that… No member of the Seven should have ever had to personally deal with it.”
“It’s true. From official records, none of the Seven did personally deal with it.” Lisa’s face is grim. “Liyue has the Yakshas, Snezhnaya has their Ministry… if Jean hadn’t told me herself, I would have never believed this either. Barbatos? The most carefree of the Seven, the only one who actively refused to directly rule over his people? It all sounds quite ridiculous. However...”
He waits for her to continue, then realizes that she is only staring at him with an enigmatic impression.
“However?”
“However,” she continues, narrowing her eyes, “the Seven do keep many secrets.”
It feels like her gaze is boring directly into his soul. “If you’re trying to say that Rex Lapis also - ”
“He might be, but that’s not what I mean. The Seven keep many terrible, terrible secrets… but yet, usually for good reason.” Lisa has placed her hand directly over the shining electro gem above her collarbone, and he feels a chill go down his back, as if he’s only now seeing the woman for the first time. “ Their definitions of good reasons, anyway. Though they are very powerful, often they are not any less affected than you and I.”
The defense leaves his lips before he has the time to think it over. “Rex Lapis had always been wiser than I.”
“And I will defer to your judgment on that. I would just like to warn you that if you seek to repel Decarabian and free Barbatos from his influence, you may… unearth secrets that you may wish you’ve never had to find.”
“I don’t understand. Are you not a citizen of Mondstadt? Are you not the librarian of the Knights of Favonius? Don’t you want to save your Archon, your lord, even if they no longer possess their Gnosis? Why - ”
“And are you not an Adeptus of Liyue? You may feel bound by responsibility and contracts, but there are truths that, once realized, cannot be un-realized. The secrets kept by the Seven are those that govern how this very world turns. Breach those, and nothing you believe would ever be the same. Dear Adeptus. I am giving you this warning now, because if you commit to this, you are not going to be able to turn back. I hope you have a damned good reason of your own to seek Barbatos, for this is not something you should do out of a contract.”
It’s dawning on him now, what she means. Her hands have grasped his at some point during his outburst, and even through her gloves, he can feel her shaking. There’s a deep grief in her eyes, one hidden behind easy smiles and sweet snacks. There was once a wish that drove her relentlessly forward, and that ideal had met a cruel, shocking death.
This is a woman who has realized that the sky is fake and that her life is a lie.
“- I hope you understand. But beyond that. Adeptus Xiao. There is something you can possibly do. If you can find the resolve. ”
The similarity in wording between Lisa and Zhongli is uncanny. At least she’s let go of his hand. “... Go on.”
The woman winks, and the smile’s suddenly so cheerful and carefree that it sends his mind spinning. She’s pouring out some drinks again, her movements just as blithe and graceful as they were when he first laid eyes on her. She even takes the time to drop him three whole small sugar cubes on a tiny plate. “Diluc wants me to share some intel with you. He’s looked a bit more into the abyss attack and believes they used a specific spell, a confounding one. By itself, it’s not exceedingly dangerous - use it on someone like Jean or Bennett, and they’ll probably just get lost in Mondstadt for a few days. Use it on those of us with too many suppressed thoughts, however, and it builds a labyrinth. Layers upon layers of dreams - all the contents in that drawer we call our soul just strewn randomly about and thrown haphazardly on top of each other. We become lost, confused, preoccupied, filled with regrets - and all the other stuff you were paying attention to before just builds and starts taking over.” She bites into a sandwich enthusiastically, then brightens with delight. A gesture and a hand. “Ah, this tastes good. Want one?”
(... If it will be as simple and sweet as that.)
He understands. He understands and he hurts. He understands and it’s suddenly too much. He understands and he’s grateful to this woman for having tried her best to look out for him. The tofu can be forgiven. He smiles. It feels weird on his face. “... I understand. Thank you.”
There’s a strange glint in those green eyes. “So you will try to eat the dreams of one of the Seven after all? My, my, you really are a strange one.”
The pain from prolonged sitting suddenly hits like a tsunami. He falls off the chair unceremoniously. “I do have a good reason.”
“That’s what you Anemo wielders always say,” Lisa sighs, reaching out with her free hand. “And then the next day I find out it was just another person’s cat.”
He gives himself exactly one night to think it over.
Dreams. Such fragile, nonsensical things. Yet for so many, it’s the purest expression of the soul, the only vehicle in which they’re allowed free reign over their feelings and memories.
It’s a curiosity that he had the power in the first place, being, well, a peng rather than the typical baku or mo who specialize in such abilities. But it’s always been his curse to be gifted in too many things, and though he had just wanted to save others from nightmares in his beginnings, just like everything else about him, the ability had been forcibly twisted, and then wielded by his previous master as a weapon.
I ate so many dreams.
The hatred and fear from nightmares he eventually just got used to, since after a certain point, they simply blended together with his reality. The more lovely dreams, however - the affection, the hope, the faith that sustains, the bliss that spreads -
Almond tofu will never be an adequate substitute.
Could just be: I like the feeling of joy. Or, more cynically: I do not understand how to feel my own joy, so I have to take someone else’s.
A dream, once devoured, cannot be returned to its dreamer, so every dream he enjoys is one that the actual person with a soul did not.
While he was with his previous master, devouring the dreams basically became equivalent to devouring souls, as the dreamers eventually had no worthwhile waking lives to speak of.
When he was contemplating becoming a Yaksha - and indeed, after he did become a Yaksha - he always consoled himself with the thought that being haunted by angry remnants is better than being haunted by soulless humans. The idea: true loss is despair. Irrevocable loss is the inability to even grieve.
And he’d be damned if he could no longer grieve all that he’s lost.
Stop avoiding the question, Alatus.
Do you even know that you can devour the dreams of a god?
What if the flute is a lie, and there simply is no place for light in this world?
... Do you even have a plan for Decarabian once you’ve found Barbatos in His dream?
He returns to Dawn Winery, to that house, to that room. Under the pale moonlight, Barbatos’ sleeping smile is the same as the one worn by the winged statue. There’s a visible dark aura around him now, a dreadfully familiar sight, and the adeptus sighs, making a promise to himself before ringing the Traveler to help him pick up his ritual materials.
-That smile doesn’t feel like it’s hiding dreams or secrets that’ll forever darken the world.
He really made his decision just based on that.