Chapter Text
It was a gloomy, windless, and not too bright day in Liyue Harbor. A gust of wind suddenly came through, so faint that it was unnoticeable to the general public that went about their ways that day, trading and selling, creating contracts, and living their day-to-day lives. A certain funeral consultant noticed it, however, as he sat drinking his tea. Sensing something different from the regular breeze, he looked back behind him. He caught sight of a short, bright green-clad figure waving at him from amongst the crowds. Was that..? It could not be. They had not seen each other since the last time he and the original archons had met. Years ago. The others were all gone, however. That irresponsible wind archon and him was all that was left. Meanwhile, as he thought about his old friends, Barbatos had made his way over. "Hey, Morax!" the annoying bard said as he waved his hand in front of said person's face. "Get out of your dusty 6000-year-old memory and greet your old friend! I came here to meet you after so long, and this is the welcome I get? You really are an old man~" Zhongli cleared his throat and lowered his cup. This bard was a fool and irresponsible, but 'Morax' as Barbatos had called him never abandoned courtesy and the like. "Barbatos." He'd greeted him, at least. "Morax." Barbatos replied, attempting to keep a stony, straight face, clearly trying to imitate Zhongli. He merely returned the overly dramatic stare that Barbatos gave him. "I am no longer called Morax, Barbatos. I gave up that position recently. I wish to live as a regular mortal now." Venti's smile faded. "So you too, huh? I never thought us 7 would end like this. We all thought we would be here forever, when what the regular mortals called 'the Archon War' was over." Zhongli nodded. "I grew tired. My people...they can lead themselves. They are strong, and my job as the Archon of Liyue is over." "I gave up my gnosis as well. The Tsaritsa's treasured Harbringer, Signora, took it. I didn't fight back as much as I could." Morax was silent, thinking of his years as an archon, and the years before he became the Archon of Geo, when he'd gotten first his motivations. Venti, however, not letting anything dampen his cheerful (albeit annoying) spirit, said "Well, then! Care for a bottle or two of osmanthus wine, old friend?" Venti sat down, making himself at home as he seemingly magically produced some of the said wine. Zhongli sat down as well, facing Venti. "I see no harm in it."