Chapter Text
What’s it like, following a Lord and a contract for thousands of years, and then suddenly they’re gone?
The black goo is sticky as it flows down from the remnants’ forms, slowly trickles to the ground. A series of short, practiced pulses from the tip of the jade spear - an almost imperceptible rush of infused adepti energy - and the darkness dissipates, fades away like burnt smoke. A slow blink and almost-grimace. When the yaksha looks up towards the seamless sky again, his face is composed and emotionless.
The remnants are still the same. Their cries and curses are still the same.
He moves on to his third daily spot as usual.
It is true that the land is no longer quite the same. Dihua Marsh and Guili Plains are no longer covered in fields of flowers, nor are there still active adepti shrines everywhere he looks. Between broken bells and sundered walls, only a few adepti souls continue to sleep, forgotten sometimes even by survivors like himself.
It’s easy to just fall back to habits and instinct. He can pretend none of the dreams and none of the battles above the Jade Chamber ever happened, if he wants to.
(The wind is also still the same.)
There’s a hollowness in his limbs as he soars, and then falls amid a maze of fermented resentment and shattered dreams.
(He’s strong enough to go about it alone.)
It’s not that he doesn’t know that it’s the right thing to do; it’s not that he can no longer find strength in himself to dedicate to the work. Any remnant spirit that even dares to contemplate raining destruction upon a town will be mercilessly destroyed, its seams cut and distorted visage trampled. His movements are still crisp and sharp in the air, the edge of his dashes easily capable of slicing through even the densest of archon residue. With the exception of the days when the Traveler had insisted on bringing the Lantern Rite to him, he had not taken a single break from his hunt. Those that endanger Liyue will swiftly face their downfall. It’s just -
A grit of the teeth. The sense of discontentment sticks to him like unwanted electrocharged sparks, refusing to disappear regardless of how much he works or how much he cleanses. It nags at him precisely because he knows it’s not a part of the web of endless karmic debt he’d long woven himself into.
(His right leg has grown a bit too heavy. He can feel it, the subtle shift in his center of mass.)
If this dance will continue to bring about peace and prosperity -
(If the Lord is not truly gone, and the contract with the Lord can simply be substituted with a promise made by the adeptus to the people and land themselves - )
If absolutely nothing has changed, then why does something feel just a little off?
It is raining when he returns to Wangshu Inn, dropping onto the balcony to avoid prying eyes. As he wipes the water away from his eyes and hair - as he re-examines the glow of the jade spear under the dim hanging lights - he senses Verr Goldet perk up, a few flights of stairs below.
He stops by her counter once she’s done shooing away her mortal clients.
“Adeptus Xiao.” She bows. Her hands, like always, remain professionally folded before her. There’s a bowl of fresh almond tofu right next to her - he nods his thanks to her. Though she is mortal, the woman is one of the most resourceful beings he’s ever met. He always counts his blessings that he only needs to work with her, rather than the whole horde of mortals Ganyu has to constantly play host to. It takes time, effort and a great amount of study to get a mortal properly acquainted to - and adequately warded against - adepti energy; it is a small miracle that Goldet’s been able to have these talks with him at all. Even now, he can see her involuntary shivers and flinches, the stress lines on her face if he walks too close; he always tries to keep a respectful distance, even if she always wants him to relax. Just stay on the grey and gold pads. We will be safe this way. “Nothing new from Huai’An or myself today. Looks like Mingyun has found some peace at last.”
Small, unexpected blessings. He takes those. “Mm.”
“I do hope you were able to enjoy the Lantern Festival. It seemed like the Traveler and Paimon were quite fond of you.”
Memories of light, kindness and carefree laughter echo by his ear. The aftertaste of grilled fish, that unique sensation of texture and substance against his teeth that humans call ‘crispy’. He does not look up from his dessert. “Mm.”
“Adeptus Xiao.” The voice has suddenly changed, grown more hesitant. He looks up this time to see her leaning against the counter, her cat purring softly by her arm, a tentative look on her face. “I actually have another message for you. It’s one from L - I mean, Mr. Zhongli.”
He does not blink, though it’s impossible not to tense at the name. Though he has - outwardly and inwardly - at least committed to accepting the name and all the consequences that come with it, it will still be a while before he’s used to it. “What is it?”
Goldet’s eyebrows are knitted together in a frown, so he counts the seconds patiently as she agitates, then relaxes, smiling a bit ruefully at him. “It’s just a bit of a strange request. He would like you - if you can find the time , he stresses - to pay a visit to one of his old friends in Mondstadt. Says he’s got word that they might need your help.”
His own eyebrows travel at the sound of that. “Help?” He repeats. “One of His … old friends?”
“That’s as much as he said. I could not get him to elaborate further.”
Mondstadt. Old friends of the Geo Archon.
He steps away from the pad, past the low stone steps, and out of the chamber, looking out. He can feel Goldet’s gaze following him as he walks. This exit faces northward; on a sunny day, it’d be possible to glimpse not only Dragonspine from this spot, but also one single solitary dome of Old Mondstadt. As it is right now, the skyline - the whole world - is silent and dark. There are only vague cascading shapes of mountains and rolling hills, although he knows that the marsh is but one dash and drop away, its reeds still swaying where flowers used to bloom.
Ah -
That trace of a flute, spreading through trees, and falling to fields. It will not hold. As if it means to urge us, look . Love’s body must be manifold. Black cricket shell, new summer air, late light. The landscape's all ablaze with gentle strangers. Look . We're standing in a field.
“I think the understanding is that the bard is Mondstadt’s own Lord Barbatos.” Is that empathy in Goldet’s voice, or something else entirely? “After Rex Lapis’ departure from this world… he would be the only one left standing from the Original Seven. I must guess that there have been many fond moments between the two Archons, even if Mondstadt and Liyue have never been officially allied.”
He blinks. “Fontaine and Sumeru have changed hands?”
“About Fontaine I would not know, but Sumeru’s current Archon ascended only five hundred years ago.” Goldet waves her hands. “I do hope whatever ails Lord Barbatos is minor, and he will return to his city soon. After all, it would be an immense pity if he could not be around to receive his own Windblume.”
Another human holiday, as pointless as any other. “I’ll try my best to return before then.”
“Well, well. I didn’t expect you to accept, but that’s on me, I suppose, to not know how the Adepti think about such things.” Goldet chuckles, and produces a map from one of the drawers behind her. “Do wait for Yan’Xiao to finish packing the provisions - I have a feeling you won’t appreciate Mondstadt cuisine - and after that.” The cat’s in her lap now, meowing contentedly. “I believe you’ll be able to find the Traveler at Stone Gate. They said they’ll be waiting for you there by sunset, at which point they’ll take you to see the bard.”
It’s just before sunset when he spots the two of them at the tea shop by Stone Gate, the golden-haired girl with pale flowers in her hair, and her companion, the floating elf-creature. Paimon smiles like the sun at the sight of him, tugging at the Traveler’s sleeves with obvious excitement. Lumine’s smile is more one of relief.
“Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure you were going to appear.”
Her almost halting speech bothers him. He crosses his arms, waiting. “My Lord sent me. For what reasons I am not quite certain, for I am not sure what services I could provide to another of the Seven, but perhaps you could enlighten me.”
Lumine’s lips tighten. She seems to consider something for a while, but then merely sighs, shaking her head. “It’s… Xiao, let’s talk as we walk.”
So they do. Or, at least, she begins to walk, and he follows her wordlessly, waiting for her to speak up. There’s something furtive in her steps, an anxious energy that seems to almost leak out as she hurriedly dispatches the geo slimes and stray hilichurls. He expands his senses to the wider world around him, wondering if he would pick up anything amiss on the winds, some signs that the Anemo Archon has been severely compromised, or, far worse, is no longer in this world. He finds none, and also finds his own heart weighing just a touch lighter in response.
“Just tell him, Lumine.” The elf-creature urges. The girl stops and looks down. Then, as if she’s made up her mind, she turns around to face him, her gaze square and level.
“Adeptus Xiao. Have you ever met the Anemo Archon in person?”
Perhaps, many-a-fleeting times, he had wished for it. Perhaps, however, he had also long resigned himself to the thought that it would never happen, just like the scintillating wind sprites that sometimes approach him would always fly away before he could touch them with his fingertips. The sound of that flute haunts. The Stone Gate winds that caress Xiao now are cool and, by all accounts, painfully mundane. “No.”
“I can’t believe these archons. First the Tone Deaf Bard, then Zhongli - ”
“Shh, Paimon. Let me explain.” The traveler shoos her disgruntled companion with an apologetic expression, then turns to him again, her voice somber and serious. “The Anemo Archon - like Rex Lapis, he goes by a different name in Mondstadt town. Paimon here calls him the Tone Deaf Bard. The rest of us refers to him as Venti.”
He cannot truly conceive tone deafness and the flute player on the marsh in the same sentence, but he nods nevertheless. This is good information. “He likes to drink and to mingle with mortal crowds. My L - Mr. Zhongli has mentioned it before, and you’ve confirmed it yourself.”
“Indeed. Before I went to Liyue - back when I stayed at Mondstadt - I had helped Venti to purify a corrupted version of the dragon Dvalin and bring him back to Mondstadt’s fold. Dvalin’s one of the Four Winds - perhaps you could think of him as someone not unlike yourself, albeit serving under a different lord.” Lumine’s voice has grown soft, nostalgic. He squints at the undisguised attempt to appeal to him. “We had two friends from Mondstadt help us with this matter as well. Jean, the Acting Grandmaster of Mondstadt’s Knights of Favonius. Diluc, a former knight and the current owner of the Dawn Winery.”
Something like the Qixing, then. He has noticed that she’s taking her sweet time to get to the point. “... So, the current matter with Lord Barbatos...”
Lumine does not avert her gaze, but the guilt in her voice is plain. “... As I was heading back to Mondstadt after celebrating the Lantern Rite at Liyue... Diluc sent word that there had been an attack on the outskirts of the city. The Fatui had formerly already ordered their own attack on Venti and taken his Gnosis, but this time… it appeared to be the Abyss Order. What’s more, according to Master Diluc, we cannot rule out the possibility that they had been after his life, or at the very least, to incapacitate him.”
That is too many revelations all at once.
First: that the Fatui had taken the Anemo Archon’s gnosis by force. More, judging by the Traveler’s timeline, that this had happened before the Traveler set foot in Liyue, and before his own Lord had made his decision to abdicate at the Rite of Descension.
Second: that the Abyss order is after the Archons. At least one of them, at any rate. And not just after the Archons’ power either - they wanted to endanger their very persons.
Third: that the equivalent of the adepti and the Qixing in Mondstadt had not been able to protect their Archon. However, if he’s still being sent to Mondstadt now, that means -
He forces himself to settle on at least one first question to ask.
“... Mr. Zhongli. Rex Lapis. Is he aware of all of this?”
Lumine nods, her eyes sharp. “Diluc sent word to Liyue as well. I assume that you being sent to Mondstadt is a response to that. I’m sure Mr. Zhongli is aware of risks to his own safety, and has taken steps in accordance to enhance his own security.”
Even without his Gnosis, Rex Lapis is a fearsome archon, the Prime of the Adepti. If his Lord has been informed of all the facts, then Xiao must believe that his Lord is confident that the Yaksha will not be needed in the city, to protect him or anyone else. The thought is a discomforting one in his gut - if it was solely up to him, he’d be back south in a heartbeat, scouring the entire region for any hints of the Abyss - yet one that he makes himself accept, like everything else. There’s no one he can trust in this life if he cannot trust Rex Lapis. “And Lord Barbatos - Venti?”
“Venti was found steps from the Great Tree at Windrise. It had helped him to heal before, after the attack by the Fatui - but it would seem that he just barely fell short of making it this time. We carried him there and have kept him there since, but…” the Traveler swallows. “It’s been a few days, and yet he has not awakened.”
Xiao considers this.
The emotional response: this is distressing. The prospect of the entity responsible for such beautiful music and feeling, gone , or even temporarily silenced - it feels wrong , like the idea of natural waters flowing upstream and turning back into ice before the spring. Though he had only been an audience member of happenstance, a serendipitous listener - he feels a duty to pay back the debt, help allow Barbatos to play his music again. The sound should not be denied to the people of Mondstadt. It should not be denied to anyone.
The rational response: Mondstadt is distressing. How can the city simply allow days to pass, without engaging in any kind of action either in retaliation for the attack, or to provide proper aid to its archon? Within a day of Moon Carver receiving the news of the Rite of Descension from the Traveler, the Adepti have gathered, and an audience with the Qixing sought to discuss the matter. To think that the Anemo Archon has remained incapacitated, and the city has felt like their best bet is to request support from a neighboring nation… the support coming in the form of a Yaksha who’s only fought endless battles for the past millennia, with no gifts in diplomacy or healing...
He envisions himself standing guard over a fragile, sleeping figure, and grimaces at the image. Surely, one should not want such a dangerous source of potential further corruption next to one that is wounded and ailing. “Does anyone know what the actual issue is?”
Lumine smiles, wistfully-casually-tiredly, Xiao thinks she has her own guess, but feels neither confident nor comfortable with saying it out loud. She’s waving to a figure standing by the mansion door now, and Paimon’s already charged full speed ahead, seemingly enticed by the smell of freshly prepared honey roast. “Well, perhaps Master Diluc would share a few of his own hypotheses? We’ll be staying the night at Dawn Winery, and since they’ve brought Venti over, you’ll have a chance to see for yourself.”