Chapter Text
The streets of the walled city of Mondstadt were in utter chaos--the likes of which the Knights of Favonius had hardly even imagined. Shards of glass littered the ground; screaming, panicking, and wailing could be heard all over the city walls. Shops were hastily closed and abandoned, houses were in a state of disarray while some were on fire. It was as if Mondstadt was thrown back to its warring history, the present city relieving its wounded past that the knights have only read in books, never to materialise in the physical world.
Yet here they were.
An army of what the Knights could only describe as the undead had marched their way into the supposedly ironclad fortress, attacking anything and anyone within sight. People ran from all directions, looking to find shelter in the cathedral west of the city. They hastily grabbed their loved ones, salvaging what they could from their homes and fleeing. Some had thought about leaving the city altogether, but the risks of being caught with no one to rescue them were too high.
With the citizens being evacuated to the cathedral, Jean barked orders among the ranks to keep the fighting on ground level. As per the Acting Grandmaster’s orders, Amber, along with Barbara helped in the efforts of relocating the civilians and effectively avoiding casualties. Kaeya, Diluc, and Rosaria had been battling with the undead army, though despite their synchronized efforts, the hoard seemed endless.
The undead soldiers, dressed in what seemed to be ancient garb and wielding ancient weapons, appear to be controlled by a force far beyond their reach. A sickly purple glow emanated from their backs, as if they were puppets strung and commanded by an invisible force that felt neither within the city itself, nor the surrounding area.
With Venti nowhere in sight, Jean was steadily losing hope. She could only pray that the God of Mondstadt was not in danger, and would know where the source of the miasma was coming from. She looked towards the direction of Dragonspine where she saw the familiar purple glow flash across its peak. Startled, she looked around to see if anyone had noticed it, but they were too preoccupied by the invading force to spare a glance.
Suddenly, a string of orders in Liyuean tongue reached her ears. She looked towards the north gate where a contingent of Liyue’s Millelith had come to assist them, led by none other than the Qixing’s secretary, Ganyu.
“Apologies for the tardiness, Lady Jean!” At that, Ganyu summoned her ice field, which startled the others on the battlefield.
“Better late than never!” Jean piped up, nodding towards the half adeptus. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
Ganyu raised her bow and shot three of the zombies at once. “Lady Ningguang, as it happens.” She released another shot.
Jean could tell there was more to it than what Ganyu was letting on. Her being an adeptus directly sent to a battle that the mythical beasts of Liyue had nothing to do with, supposedly, likely meant something. But before she could piece it all together, the battlecries from her companions snapped her out of her reverie and she decided that this could wait.
She raises her sword to summon a healing field where her companions were and joins the battle with a renowned vigor.
A sinister aura enveloped the once thriving peak of Vindagnyr as a clash of steel against steel echoed in the icy air. Anemo particles covered in the curse of dark energy met golden rays and geo petals, creating explosions upon impact. It was a bloody battle far beyond anyone’s reach--and the two gods who ironically held command to the same two visions did not impose. No, they knew this was not their battle to fight. All they could do was helplessly look on, leaving the fate of the two vision holders to what merciful celestial being was left, praying and hoping that both would come out unharmed, despite knowing that they are well past the point of no return.
Xiao held his jade spear tightly, fighting the tears that threatened to fall behind his mask, stinging his eyes as he held his gaze sharp against he who was once the object of his desire. Albedo still was, and will always be, which is why each blow he dealt to the equally battered man was as if it was dealt on his own body. Cold, teal eyes levelled upon him. Emotions flashing through it like fleeting waves on a distant shore once upon a time, but before he could grasp them, they have all but disappeared.
Still, he was beautiful even in such a state.
Whether it was distraction or exhaustion, he was unsure, as Xiao managed to disarm the rampaging alchemist with one powerful swipe of his spear. The other man’s sword flew to the ground, a loud thump in the metal as its worn tip chipped away and a trail of purple smoke emerged from it. The yaksha moved forward, staggering, as he too was bloody and bruised. The tip of his spear was pointed on the gold four-pointed star upon his lover’s neck--one that he had worshipped for many, countless nights before this. Xiao willed the thought away. There was no turning back, and memories will stay as they are: distant, and fleeing.
Albedo made no effort to move, having exhausted himself to the brink of collapse. If Xiao were to slash his throat at this very moment, he wouldn’t complain. In fact, he knew that Xiao knew that it was what he had wanted. Xiao, and no one else. He thought about the traveler, the outlander who became a dear friend to him. But perhaps this task, too, would be difficult for them. Xiao, however, had promised him, just as he had promised to cherish him for the rest of their lives--whatever was left of it, and with or without a golden band on their fingers--that he would be the one to end him should he lose control.
And now, Xiao will be able to fulfill that promise.
Yet Xiao stood frozen. His hands trembled against the cold handle of his weapon, unable to push forward as he had first intended, as he had first promised. Albedo’s half-lidded stare conflicted him, tormented him even. Was he trying to beg to be spared? Or was he daring him to make the move and kill him?
“You’re stalling.” Albedo rasped, falling on his elbows as he stared at his once confident lover.
Xiao bit his lip, his mask dissipating into the frosty winds of Dragonspine, revealing tear-stained cheeks and reddening eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Albedo exhaled shakily, as if the cold were nothing to him. His blond hair, free of its braids and plastered all over his face, covered his eyes as the wind blew behind him. “If you stop now, I will destroy Liyue as well.”
The threat felt cold and empty in Xiao’s ears. He was becoming frustrated. He wanted Albedo to beg for his life, to ask to be spared and taken away somewhere where no one will know him. He wanted him to second guess his decision. And yet the alchemist was firm, waiting for the kiss of the tip of his spear on his dying flesh. Xiao bit his trembling lip, silently pleading to Albedo to rethink this plan. But if there was anything he had loved about the man before him, it was his determination. He was unmoving, just like this very mountain he stood on, and he had long since accepted the fate he designed for himself.
“Xiao,” Albedo called out to him once more.
Silence.
“You know this is the only way, I’ve told you already.” Albedo looked up to hollow eyes. He breathed slowly, ignoring the pain on his wounded chest. He suspected that one of his lungs is already bleeding internally as it were. “Mondstadt is relying on you. As is Liyue, and the rest of Teyvat. Rid this world of me, and you’ll be rid of your karma as well.”
“Silence! For once, Albedo, please shut up.” A pained shout echoed around them, and the spear on Albedo’s neck wavered. “I can’t do it. I won’t do it. I cannot stand the thought of your blood on my hands. Please, Albedo, do not make me do this” Xiao’s voice shook, the tremors visible on the tight grasp on his weapon.
Albedo’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then went back to their soulless state. “You promised.”
“To hell with that promise!” Xiao spat, “I don’t care about anything anymore. Let’s flee this place, somewhere quiet, where you can practice alchemy all you want. You can paint whatever and whenever you want. It’s just you and me in a house on a cliff, Albedo. Please, anything but this.” Xiao’s voice started to break, and his long held mask of indifference came crumbling down and his tears betrayed him once more. “Please, come with me. Let’s live a peaceful life together.”
And then, Albedo smiled. It was the first sign of warmth that Xiao had seen on the man ever since his limitless powers had manifested on this very peak. Beyond the countless war machines he had resurrected, infused with the miasma from Durin’s corpse, as well as the army of the undead that he had long lost control over, the Albedo Xiao knew and loved was still in there. He knew for a fact that he had never been evil at heart. No, his Albedo was as pure as the chalk he was made of; bright as the sun that reflected his eyes on warm summer days. His Albedo was, and will always be full of love and compassion, and he is but an unfortunate pawn in this cruel world’s design.
“I’m sorry, Xiao.”
For what, Xiao did not understand. Because before he could think, his lover took the tip of the jade spear pointed at him and impaled himself on the weapon, breaking the fragile flesh of his chest in a deafening squelch that he will remember for the rest of his life. Time had stopped for the yaksha as he watched his lover’s grasp on the weapon weaken, his weak, haunting smile still plastered on his pale face and a single tear left his bright turquoise eye. The thud of the crumpled body against the flattened tip of the pillar they were on shook him from his breathless state, almost knocking the wind out of him. Xiao’s weapon disintegrated, and he rushed to cradle Albedo in his arms.
“Idiot!” Xiao choked, attempting to staunch the heavy bleeding on his lover’s chest. “You stupid, stupid idiot! Why did you do that? Why won’t you let me save you?!” He sobbed as he pressed his hand hard against Albedo’s chest, begging for the bleeding to stop. He quietly prayed to Rex Lapis, to Barbatos, to come to his aid in hopes of sparing the dying light in his arms. But they never came. His vision blurred, and he felt his tears fall on Albedo’s pristine skin, still as fair and smooth as the first time he had laid his tainted hands on it.
Albedo weakly raised his hand to put it on top of Xiao’s, his chest emitting a strange, golden glow that enveloped the yaksha in an instant. It was as if he used what remained of his warmth to soothe his beloved yaksha’s karmic pain for one last time. He could see the panic in Xiao’s fiery, golden eyes. He had always loved them. They were beautiful and the love in them soothed him, even until the end. “You weren’t gonna do it. I anticipated as much,” he said weakly, letting another tear fall from his dulling eyes. “You know I’m beyond saving. But you… I know I can still save you.”
“Don’t close your eyes, Albedo, please! I promise I will save you, I’ll find a way. Don’t do this, I’m begging you! Don’t… don’t leave me alone!”
“Take my soul to pay for your karma, my Xiao. Consider this my last act of devotion… to you. Keep me… in your heart, my love… until we meet again.”
“Albedo!”
The alchemist closed his eyes, his hand limping. And then, silence.
The heart that had once beaten for him, and only him, had ceased beneath his desperate palm, and the light around him faded.
Xiao sat there, frozen in time. It was as if he, too, stopped breathing. He felt the pillar crumble beneath them, coming down to crash upon Vindagnyr once more. With one last burst of his adeptal energy, he held the body of his beloved close to him, and disappeared out of thin air.
~~
The yaksha felt himself crash on a grassy field, still keeping Albedo close to him, even if he could no longer respond. Wounded and weak, he managed to gently lay Albedo’s body on the grass, the way he used to when he carried the alchemist from the couch to his bed during his late night experiments. Darkness was encroaching on Xiao's vision and his limbs felt useless. The adrenaline that coursed in his system had long since faded, and exhaustion was settling in, as were the effects of prolonged blood loss and exposure to corruption. Albedo was true to his promise, as where he expected the voices of vengeful gods and lost souls, there was nothing. He was surrounded only by the rustling of leaves and the gentle call of the night birds, as if they grieved with him, not with audible curses and murmurs that sent pain down to his very soul. His fallen beloved had successfully rid him of the souls that tormented him.
Xiao held Albedo’s hand, silently thanking him for freedom—a freedom he could no longer relish as the man he loved was no longer by his side. He cried until his eyes and throat felt dry, until he was numb.
There was little he could do now. He no longer has the strength to bury him after losing so much blood and power, and could only hope that whoever found them would treat his lover’s body with the respect he deserved.
He took his flute out, and played the lullaby that Albedo had loved so much. At least, through this, he would be able to honor him.
He tried to summon the memories he left with him--of how they had imagined a life of simplicity and seclusion once upon a time. He remembered how Albedo raised the topic of children with him, though not asking him directly, and how he vehemently shut him down out of fear that he was not a worthy father. Do you want children in your next life, love? How about one? Or two, or maybe three? He remembered how Albedo fussed over him, an adeptus, and held little regard for his own health despite being a mortal, a being of inferior make. He tried to remember how Albedo laughed at his first attempt to cook sunshine sprat in the alchemist’s camp and how he briefly thought of a tiny kitchen in a cabin, supplied with ingredients for countless almond tofu servings. He tried to remember until he couldn’t. The memories of their days together, fading as quickly as his consciousness was.
Note after note, tune after tune, he felt the strength leave his fingers until his flute fell uselessly on the ground. Until he, too, was drained of his last and slumped helplessly beside his lifeless lover.
He could take a quick nap, he thought. And once he awakens, he will hold a funeral for Albedo on this grassy patch in the middle of nowhere. He can’t even remember the area anymore, despite how frequently he surveyed the perimeter. He held his arm out protectively to where Albedo’s body laid and unleashed what remained of his adeptal powers in the form of soft, glowing teal energy—the color of his lover’s eyes and his pure anemo elemental energy—to protect them.
He then closed his eyes… only to never open them again.
~~
A search party was organized for the Kreideprinz and Adeptus Xiao not long after the smog and ice cleared on top of Dragonspine mountain. Acting Grandmaster Jean, who had been battling an endless hoard of the undead soldiers of Vindagnyr and the different reanimated mechanisms of the bygone civilization, had ordered all parties concerned not to provoke the mad alchemist and to bring him back alive. The Tianquan of Liyue, Lady Ningguang, had extended her help through the Millelith. The involvement of a Liyue Adeptus had made this her business as well, she said. There was no word from the rest of the Liyue adepti themselves, but several citizens of Mondstadt had reported sightings of strange, mythical animals all over the country at some point.
Zhongli made it his mission to search for his friend, having an inkling to what had transpired. He was, after all, the prime adeptus. Accompanied by Venti, the pair made their way to the vast grasslands that bordered Dragonspine and Sal Terrae. Call it a hunch, he said. However, as it turned out, neither Xiao nor Albedo were to be found there either. The former god pondered. Had he been wrong, after all? He was about to turn around when the bard called him over.
“Has this always been here?” Venti pointed over to a vast field of white flowers swaying in the breeze.
Zhongli would know if something is amiss, especially in a land he had been familiar with, and upon closer look, he was surprised that the white flowers were of two kinds--Cecilias and Qingxins. Before he could point out that this was indeed unusual, he had caught a whiff of adeptal energy in the air. Something felt oddly familiar.
“Morax…” he heard his old friend call out to him quietly, noticing he had walked a couple of steps further into the flower field. He followed his line of sight and caught a glimpse of a familiar wooden instrument on the grass. “It’s Xiao’s flute.” The smaller man said. He would know. He helped the older god pick it as a gift to the young adeptus.
“This field…” Zhongli’s frown deepened, aged amber eyes dulled in sorrow upon realizing how this field came to be. Barbatos was no stranger to these occurrences, and offered a hand to his companion’s arm as he handed him the broken flute.
A gentle gust of wind blew to caress the old god’s hair, as if to tell them that the battle is now over.