Chapter Text
A very, very long time ago, Xiao is young. He is innocent to the world’s bordering on war, he is blind to the grief that plagues the village he loves.
So young, so pure, he is found to be the weakest yet the strongest of them all. In all but heart, he is a warrior.
Xiao is not named Xiao back then. His name was Alatus, is still Alatus.
He adopted the name Xiao as a reminder of all that he has experienced, as a thank-you to the god who’d freed him from his chains.
Alatus is a very fragile being, with stick-thin bird bones and gentle feathers upon unearthly beauty.
Xiao is just the same— except, he did not carry feathers. He did not carry the peace and purity that he once did. Perhaps, that is the only difference between the two. Alatus and Xiao, one and the same yet so very different.
It’s... only a little painful, now. It’s been thousands of years, and Alatus is nothing more than the memory of primordial jade and guardian feathers. Nothing more than the memory of his love.
Xiao is a very lonely Yaksha.
Perhaps, that it how it always will be.