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You'd always known you'd die. It was inevitable, after all. Sure, you had hoped for a lot more peaceful a death; perhaps in the skies above Tevyat, among the stars and with your sibling. Death would have been pleasant, a battle well fought, a life well spent traversing the worlds.
Your sibling would have been proud.
The pain drags you from the thoughts with a throb that feels like it rips through your body. Paimon—Paimon's nowhere to be found. Right. You'd asked her to stay with—
It throbs. You try to move your legs, bones simply crushed. Pain made you weak, dizzy, blacking out at the edges. You tried to summon some energy to get to a Statue, to teleport to a waypoint, to even get a healing potion. Albedo made you some as thanks for being a guinea pig.
Shit, and you'd promised—
You'd promised to bring some apples to the Windrise statue with the knights. The Knights of Favonius. Your friends. The picnic in a day? It was important. Your bag lay tantalizingly out of reach. You could just...reach for it...
The memory slipped out of reach, playful. The air is so still. Maybe even the skies have begun to scare. Brave, brave traveller. The wind danced in your ears. Why is it so cold?
Your eyes well with tears and a wave of indescribable agony blurred your vision. Shit, you couldn't—
You still had to get back to Paimon, who was waiting at Wangshu Inn, and she wanted—
Sticky honey roast. You held on to the image. And—and Xiangling, who was willing to make it, Mondstadt-style—
Honorary member of the best friends squad—
Blood would be all over the picture, you thought distantly. Your legs hurt. Your side hurt. Vertigo washed over you in waves. You weren't moving anymore, were you?
You...didn't think you could quite hear your heartbeat, now. The pounding had grown distant.
If you awake to a knife in your throat...
But you—
You drag heavy arms to the satchel, slow. Grains of the dirt path dug in, lodged firm in open flesh. The strength gives out in your arms, eyes squeezed shut.
If monsters dig their claws into you...
Can you dream in full colour with closed eyes?
You thought you saw the outline of Morax, for a moment. Barbatos, shimmering with power. They couldn't—
They have no idea—
And you thought—
You saw—
Something must be in your lungs. Something is in your lungs.
If death comes knocking at your door...
A star-filled sky. A field of flowers.
Hands braiding soft hair, and laughter.
Give me back my—
You grind your fingers into the ground and pull. The exertion forces harsh breathes out of you, and your lungs are wet and they rattle with each breath.
Call out my name.
Iron fills your mouth
and
you
remember.
You will not die here, not on this pathway.
Not in Liyue.
Not in Mondstadt.
Not in Tevyat.
Not alone.
"Adeptus Xiao!"
It comes out more like a croak, really. But the words spill out, and you nearly regret it as crimson spits out with it.
You reach the satchel.
Your fingers don't cooperate. You stare blankly at it, mind screaming, legs screaming, fingers numb, and so, so heavy.
Your eyes were already closed, right?
You see the world once more in black and white, shades of grey. Splashes of colour stand out, and—
Oh. Elemental energy is all around you.
You feel another massive jolt of pain that robs you of words and vision, senses overridden with the blinding shock it sends through you as you're...
Lifted.
Is this how allogenes ascend to Celestia?
But your time—
"Do not die."
The pain fades somewhat. Your eyes, no matter how you try, remain shut.
Your vision clears, somewhat, and...
The Vigilant Yaksha seems to meld into the air itself. The world is bending around you, the greyscale of the world blurring.
It's like teleporting.
Or maybe you're truly, finally dying, and this is just the universe's shittiest vision. Each breath still takes effort, and you feel it blow through your chest. It hurts—a lot less, actually. Yaksha magic?
Ha, magic. You nearly laugh.
You barely even notice the world has stopped moving, and you're being set down. You can...hear, barely. You watch near unattached. You're being held, spit and blood trickle from your open mouth. You must close it.
There is shouting, yelling.
"Get a bed!"
"Bandages!"
"Where is the doctor?"
You're set down gently on what feels like a cloud. With cloth covering. You feel the blood and spit slide back down your throat and you gag. Worse of all, however, is the pain that returns.
Someone curses.
You're moved to lay on your side. Warmth encases your hand, and from it, the addictive numbness. Elemental sight drains you more than you thought. Your thoughts slip, slowly and your vision goes back to static black, patterns dancing their way through the canvas.
"Please...stay awake. Listen," A beat. "Please."
The voice jolts you back to consciousness. You hear. You understand. Your fingers twitch in response.
You feel flopped onto your back.
There are loud gasps and then it's...quiet.
Oh, no.
You'd rather not think about it. It's a lot easier to ignore with the forced calmness, the stillness of the energy coursing through you.
Xiao speaks again, soft.
"Yakshas have no need for...tears." A thumb runs over your knuckles. You listen, quiet. There is finality in his voice. No one is touching you anymore, you think.
Why?
"For the...extraordinary, however. Exceptions...may be made." He must have shifted positions. His voice sounds further than before.
"I—" He sniffles, actually sniffles, and you want to open your eyes.
You do, with great difficultly.
The mighty Yaksha's eyes are red-rimmed, and not with dye.
"I have...failed you, mortal traveller. I'm—" He takes a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."
But you're not...you're not dead. You feel...well.
You can't actually feel anything, anymore.
You want to tell him it's okay. It wasn't his fault. Pride felled you, and it's by your own hands that you got into this...mess.
But you remain frozen in place and you...
You feel yourself slip, slowly. There is truly no more feeling in your legs.
You can't go this soon, though, right?
There's just—
No way—
You feel—
When did you stop seeing?
—powerful presences.
The last time you felt this was—
Archons...