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The breeze at Xiao's back is a gentle caress, lifting the tufts of his hair and curling around his shoulders. It is one of two cool comforts that Xiao allows himself to indulge in for a moment, eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he closes them and exhales. The draft sweeps past his skin and refuses to disappear even as he stands up. It doesn't quite sing his name, but he hears its call anyway.
The rooftop on Wangshu Inn is familiar, easy to leave and return to. It helps that the humans here are smart enough to set their offerings of almond tofu in the shade and leave him alone. The only issue is that one or two wandering guests occasionally come up at night to look at the stars, and they'd sometimes fall asleep in his spot, or they'd simply stare at the sky like it has all the answers to their problems.
'Fools, the lot of them.'
If the stars have answers, Xiao would've been brighter than Rex- Zhongli by now.
So as the giggles of a couple grow louder, Xiao twirls the polearm he was leaning on once, twice, and it fades. Effortlessly, he takes a step forward and another off the roof. Then, he's up alone in the clouds, alone with nothing but the wind. It's coaxing him towards the border of Liyue and Mondstadt, and Xiao can't help but let it pull him along.
Taking in the fresh air and the clear night, Xiao relaxes into a freefall. The wind embraces him as the sky rushes past, and Xiao breathes in the scent of freedom. Venti is calling.
But the crisp air is spoilt by the bitter tang of the abyss, and the Adeptus's eyes snap towards the marshes of Dihua. The wind coalesces under his feet reluctantly, and Xiao latches onto the smell like a bloodhound. It leads him closer to Mondstadt, but his attention is no longer on the breeze. He stops in the air, high above where monsters roam.
The abyss is trying to build a settlement in Bishui Plain, and Xiao will not allow it. The wind solidifies under his feet, giving him a platform to stand on as he studies his prey. There is a strange air that clings around the twelve creatures below. The abyssal taint they carry feels more potent than usual, and the flavour of his own karmic debt leaves a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. This is partially his own fault too, but no matter, Xiao will clean up his own messes.
Of the twelve monsters, two are geo samachurls, and four are shooters of the electro and pyro variation. Another two are cryo and hydro abyss mages, and four are mitachurls—two with blazing axes and two with rock shield walls. A buzz of irritation tugs the corners of Xiao’s lips down. The abyss sending such a big contingent is peculiar, but it's nothing he can't handle.
It's not like he's fighting gods again.
Xiao doesn't wear his mask, and the wind beneath his feet boosts him up. It's not like flying this time. No, it feels more like he's crashing. Xiao plunges down to the unknowing abyss mages and knocks them back before they can register his presence or put up their shields. His polearm slides through flesh like butter, nearly bisecting the cryo abyss mage before it stumbles backwards, and its shield flickers to life.
The hydro abyss mage is luckier, only losing an arm. It doesn't need it to attack, though, and Xiao's guard never drops. It's attempting to shoot bubbles at him uselessly… as if something like that could bother him. Xiao's vision snaps into clarity as the familiar rush of battle blazes through his nerves. He sees and hears everything, polearm dancing in circles as it sweeps through the hilichurl shooters. Their torsos cave under Xiao's force, and he doesn't blink as they disperse.
Eight left to go.
The samachurls are chanting behind the shielded mitachurls until they aren't when Xiao spears through the gap between the defence. Another lunge pierces through the bodies of the samachurls like a chopstick through rice paper. They fold and fade, and Xiao leaps to the side, dodging the icicles of the cryo abyss mage.
It had taken longer to recover than Xiao expected.
The battlefield is easy to manipulate. The mitachurls and the abyss mages are uncoordinated. An Adeptus like Xiao—one built for agility and speed—has no trouble manoeuvring around the clumsy charging mitachurls or the repetitive attacks of the abyss mages. It's only a matter of time until only one of the mitachurls is left.
The hydro abyss mage apparently has enough of Xiao running around faster than they can keep up with, and it conjures a water bubble larger than before. It chases after him, but he has already moved, and in its pathway is the last axe-wielding monster. Predictably, it gets trapped, and it flails around in the water.
Xiao's gaze pinpoints on the cryo abyss mage first, annoyance budding at the sight of its shield. He dons his mask, and the wind comes to his beckon. The mask does not bear the weight of the world, but Xiao’s shoulders feel heavier all the same. This won’t take long, though his vitality seeps away. (Xiao ignores the way his lungs tighten and how the mask seems to glue itself to his face).
He makes quick work of the abyss mages, plunging attacks dealing more damage with the help of gravity. Their shields shatter like glass, and after that, they're nothing but waiting for their deaths.
Xiao turns as the mitachurl lets out a roar. It's raging, heaving its blazing axe and spinning like a cyclone towards the Adeptus. He gets ready to jump, but in a split second, his mask tightens, thick black smoke wrapping around his body as his karmic debt paralyses him. It seizes him by the throat, and his limbs lock in place.
Tightening his grip on his spear, Xiao's eyes narrow as his airway is cut off.
'Move!-'
But he can't.
The impact on his chest forces air out of his lungs as he's flung backwards into a tree. It splinters, snapping in half as he crumples. Xiao's throat is burning as his karma crushes his neck. The edges of his vision tinge black and red, darkening. He tries to get up, but he can’t move, and the smoke swallows everything.
The wind thickens suddenly, protectively, nearly howling everywhere but in his ear.
'Is this… finally the end? I...I haven't said goodbye yet.'
Xiao's eyes flutter as he tries to stay awake, but sleep has never sounded so tantalising, so he succumbs to raging gales and the sharpest note he's ever heard on the Dihua flute.
The world goes black, but Xiao is not in a peaceful dream.
It's when he sleeps, when he's at his most vulnerable, that his karma is at its strongest. This time, it takes the form of Rex Lapis, of Zhongli, of Barbatos, of Venti, of the Adepti, of the Yaksha, yet their shapes are not quite humanoid. The figures wisp off at the edges, black smoke trailing off their bodies as their fingers wrap around his throat and squeeze .
He can't breathe, and oxygen had never felt more necessary. Unable to bring up his hands to claw at the binds around his throat, he thrashes uselessly against his karma. Xiao shouldn't even be panicking because he was strong enough to break out of this before; he can do it again, as many times as he needed to. But it's difficult when those fingers grip harder and harder, and all he hears are— the sharpest, the flattest, the nails on a chalkboard —the whispers and shrieks of blame and accusation. And they tear him down brick by brick until his ears are bleeding, and all he can do is shut his eyes tightly, so he doesn't see their faces of disappointment and hate.
He tries to convince himself that they don't despise him, that they don't really think that, but the karma is louder than he is, and his own sound is drowned in his searing throat.
Then, the clearest sound cuts through dark smoke, and his chains hiss, dissipating as the sounds of the Dihua flute surrounds him once again. Xiao crumbles to his knees, coughing as he desperately sucks in air. The wind picks up around him, swirling until it is nothing but a gentle pat on his head.
His neck is bruised, and garrote-like marks are red and angry and bleeding where they refused to let go. Xiao can't make a sound, and he wonders if he will ever be able to again or if he will ever be able to thank Venti. Still, the Dihua flute lulls him into drowsiness, and the wind wraps around him like a blanket, so Xiao lets his mind wander, and his eyes close again.
He can think about that later.
Xiao dreams of nothing, and only the sound of the flute and the gentlest winds follow him.
He wakes under the scattered sunlight streaming through tree leaves and to the sound of trickling water, his head pillowed on something soft. The air does not smell like Liyue, Xiao notes, and he shoots up from where he was lying. He proceeds to fall off the tree he had been on. It's not the Adeptus's fault he feels like he's been hit by a sledgehammer. Vaguely, Xiao remembers the mitachurl and thinks that he's technically not wrong. The wind catches him, as always, but it wasn't one he called.
Venti hops down from his tree branch, no doubt the same one he had set Xiao on, holding a flute in one hand as he lands lightly on the grass in front of him.
"Xiao! You're finally awake," Venti has enough energy for the both of them combined, though his red-rimmed eyes give his true emotions away. Xiao doesn't know what to say, so the Adeptus takes a glance around as the bard grabs his wrist and pulls him deeper into the shade to sit.
(There are a million things Xiao wants to tell Venti like ‘Sorry I’m late,’ or ‘I missed you,’ or ‘Thank you again,’ but the sight of Venti leaves him at a loss. Words forsake him, so he looks away.)
It's been decades since Xiao's been in Mondstadt, much less Windrise. It hasn't changed too much, save for the denser elemental energy around the tree where the pair lean on. In the distance, the sun is rising, bathing the land in gold, but the sight does not compare to the present company. His attention turns back to Venti, and his eyes soften. His warmth is grounding, and Xiao doesn't stop himself from leaning into it a little more. Venti's voice pauses before continuing where he left off.
Xiao has his eyes on him, watching the animated way he speaks. After all this time, he is still the same.
The Adeptus tries to speak, but all that comes out are choked coughs and pain. His hand snaps to his throat, and he feels uneven bandages covering his neck. A flask is pushed towards him, and what can Xiao do except accept in the face of an archon, a god, a lover? He glares at Venti, though, because he knows this is more likely wine than anything else. The archon simply laughs, saying something about alcohol helping to kill the germs.
The drink goes down easily, and Xiao is pleasantly surprised by the unmistakable taste of spring water. It soothes the desert that is his throat, but the soreness remains.
Venti giggles again, arms behind his back as he puts on a gleeful look, and Xiao knows better than to try and speak again this time. Venti fills the silence well enough, carrying the conversation as Xiao interjects with the occasional nod or shake of his head.
He's still tired, and he's with the one person he can be vulnerable with. So a deep breath escapes Xiao, and he shuts his eyes.
Venti goes quiet almost immediately before his voice comes again, smaller than it was before.
"Am I talking too much?" It’s too uncharacteristically timid for Venti.
Xiao's eyes open again, staring into the other's deep emerald. He says nothing, reaching instead for the archon's hand. The pads of Venti's fingers are calloused and hard from centuries of playing the lyre and pulling bowstring, and Xiao rubs a thumb across them as he cradles the other's palm. He traces the words he cannot voice because he has to.
I love the sound of your voice, so don't be stupid and ever think that again.
Xiao brings Venti's hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles, and refuses to let go.
Keep talking.
The Adeptus lets his head drop against the archon's shoulder, and his eyes shut. Venti is trembling, so Xiao tightens his grip on the other's hand and hopes that he hears everything he cannot say. An arm snakes around him, and Xiao is pulled closer still.
"Don't get hurt again, okay? The first time was enough...I can't-" Venti's voice only shakes a little as it cuts itself off. "Stay... please ."
In the cool shade of Windrise, Xiao thinks about Rex Lapis, about Zhongli, about a contract completed and broken.
Okay.
He thinks about listening to Venti's voice, about sleeping in trees in Venti's arms, about drinking kisses from Venti's lips, and wraps his arms around his lover.
I'll stay.
The wind curls around them, and Xiao hopes this can last.