Chapter Text
It was one summer’s day when Morax felt emotion for the first time, and it was one winter’s evening that Zhongli lost them for the last time.
Diluc was the Sun, and Zhongli simply orbited him from 84 billion miles away, his entire world revolving around his light. His eyes that shined brighter than the flares of the sun, his hair that seemed to be woven of pure flame, his small smile that always crept forth like the dawn. Simply the radiance of his entire being, which had pulled Morax in like a eons-old comet.
If Guizhong was a glaze lily who sung him the most beautiful melodies, then Diluc was a windwheel aster who left him memories to find everywhere the wind went.
If Guizhong was a memory of dust, then Diluc is a reminder of his future.
If Guizhong was a river goddess, then Diluc is Helios himself.
Aether had once told Zhongli about the gods of other worlds far beyond their own realms. The stories in particular that he remembered most were always the tales where love would lay waste to the world, and in more ways than one, often claiming many casualties.
These stories all came from a world called Terra, a mysterious realm of horsemen and nymphs, humans and gods, and much, much drama.
Apollo had his laurel wreath, Artemis, her silver bow, and Athena, her Aegis.
Helios with his golden crown, Selene with her crescent moon, and Eos with the dawn itself.
And to Zhongli, if Apollo was god of the sun, then Helios was the sun.