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It is said that when Barbatos walked among them in his prime, his music could stretch over all of Teyvat and lull people into a sweet dream.
The person who stands in the entrance between Mondstadt and Liyue, is not the so-called three-time best bard of Mondstadt. No, it is someone who’s aura is regal and potent, teal eyes that glinted oh so dangerously in the moonlight. He stands at the edge of the tall cliff in Stonegate and strums his lyre, the song luring curious gazes to the cliff, even from the Harbour of Contracts and City of Freedom. The Anemo energy swirling around the air was immeasurable, and recognised by all divine beings almost instantly.
It traveled far and wide, reaching the corners of Teyvat, not as gentle as how the God of Freedom would have enjoyed. However, without the Heart of the Wind God, it was much more wild and unrestrained.
Feathered wings unfolded from his back as he flew into the direction of Mount Tianheng, to find a ledge where the people of Liyue could see him a tiny bit, however let his identity still remain anonymous.
He listens as the Qixing do their speech, and prominent figures of the Harbour speak of their now deceased God. Most talk of the prosperity Morax brought the nation, of the nature of his contracts and how it shaped Liyue’s history.
A soft tune carries out the moment they end their speech, soft strumming of the lyre drawing their attention to the ledge the Anemo Archon sits on, a gentle smile on his lips.
He could see Aether and little Paimon from his ledge, as he leaps off, fluttering down, ignoring the protests of the Millelith and Qixing, kneeling down to softly pat the Exuvia’s resting form.
“So you too, have finally passed, Morax.” The smile the people see strains a little, as the Archon pulls a bottle from behind his back. “Well, I guess this gift will be early then. Hmm… your passing does make me the oldest of the Seven now, does it not? To imagine the day you would pass, so soon as well… We are not so close as we used to, but do allow me to sing to you one last time. You always were so adamant about it being me who sang lullabies.”
The Qixing had cleared the commoners out, easily discerning this as a more private affair, but allowed the Traveler and his… Funeral Parlor Consultant friend to remain.
The Anemo Archon lifts his hood down, once everyone is cleared, and musters gentle winds to breeze through the Harbour.
The words carried through the harbour, short as the poem may be, it was more carried through the voice of a being who’s experience lasted just about as long as the Geo Archon’s did.
Countless die
with a heart full of wishes
a mind full of stories
and hands full of talent.
But you my dear still hold
the wishes in your heart
the stories in your mind
and the talent is your hands.
He rests a hand on the dragon’s head, and whispers words when he leans in to give it a last parting embrace. He was well aware the human form of the Geo Archon was watching him from behind the Star-born Traveller, but carried on with his words nonetheless.
The wind has returned, Morax. I should apologise for all this time absent… I’ve practically been as deceased as all of the other 5, hmm? It seems news of your passing has shaken my people into start visiting the Church too… This isn’t about me, though, is it now… This is my last gift to you, my dearest friend.
“You are free now, Rex Lapis, break the rules you once so loved, be free, Morax. Still, the winds change direction. Someday, they will blow towards a brighter future, where our responsibilities as Archons do not exist and we can live like mortals do…Take my blessings and live leisurely from this day onward. What is freedom, when demanded of you by the God of Freedom himself? And yet, this ‘freedom’ is now yours, what will you do with it, oh Lord of Geo?”