Chapter Text
Thunder rumbled through the night, punctuated with screams and cries. The archon war had been raging for far too long, and yet the terrible symphony refused to end.
Alatus was far too familiar with its song. He was but an instrument in the orchestra, conducted by a cruel and heartless god. He drew sounds of horror while rain steadily drummed around him. Sometimes, he wished to cut off his own ears. Yet, it would not be enough, for Alatus was bound to consume the nightmares he elicited, each one planting more of the song of misery in his mind. He was created to hurt, he existed to bring suffering. The god which controlled him was unforgiving, unrelenting. Even if he could ignore the song, block out the screams, his eyes would remind him of it.
Red was the colour of the war. Of the sunrise through smoke, of the fires which produced it. Red was the uniforms of warriors, the colour which stained their weapons. Red the land was painted from so much bloodshed, and Alatus was but another of its painters. Red filled his eyes more than any other colour, and he had forgotten most others. Once, the world was colourful, diverse, pretty. Alatus doubted if it ever could be again. He was tempted to remove his eyes too, but that would leave him in the worst state of all.
Darkness. Overwhelming, uninterrupted darkness. While the nightmares sang a song of misery, and the red painted the picture of death, darkness meant nothing. Darkness was lonely, torturous, empty. Darkness was devoid of everything but one’s own thoughts, which was the worst punishment of all. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear, only thoughts to think, and insanity to come. Alatus had the misfortune of being familiar with it, for even at the slightest of errors, his tyrannical master plunged him into the nothingness, forced to reflect on his mistakes. He was foolish to feel remorse, to wish for mercy. He was foolish to attempt to offer escape to those he needn’t kill. He was foolish to think the one puppetting his strings would allow anything other than the horrible symphony to fill his ears, the red painting to reach his eyes.
He knew he was a fool, and yet he continued to jest. He stared up at the sky - where once was blackness was now a creeping grey. The sun was about to rise, cast its light on the warscape beneath his feet, remind him of his sins. And yet, before it could, a flash of something streaked across the sky.
Gold.
In all the dreams and nightmares he had consumed, Alatus had only ever seen the colour once. A young girl wished upon the streaking gold; her family had told her that it was a shooting star, and that it may grant her wish idk long as she trusted it with her secrets. That girl lay lifeless now, and her family like castaway dolls scattered around her. Alatus had doubted the superstition - her wish had surely never been granted, but perhaps it was the hope that it might which kept her smiling even in death. Perhaps it was this same foolish feeling that caused Alatus to selfishly cast his own wish on the shooting star.
I wish to find light; I want to experience joy.
It would be many centuries before his wish came true.
____
It was a new era; a new world. He was no longer Alatus, but Xiao. He had been rescued from his former master and now served a much gentler, more forgiving one. He had made friends, then lost them to the darkness which refused to leave the world. He confined himself to solitude, in an attempt to avoid any more hurt. He said it was to avoid tainting others with his darkness, but perhaps it was he who was scared of the light.
And so, when Xiao met the golden-haired traveller… he was not particularly delighted. What arrogance they must have to seek out the adeptus of darkness which resides in Wangshu Inn, in spite of warnings provided by so many others. Yet they came bearing a sigil of permission, so even if Xiao wanted to, he could not hurt them. Still, he turned them away. What purpose could a mortal have with the Conquerer of Demons?
Bafflingly, this did not deter them from making further efforts of contact. Once again, they approached the empty balcony on which Xiao often lurked, this time bearing food. One dish was a salad - claimed to be the traveller’s best dish, according to their floating companion. The other was almond tofu. Perhaps it was by chance that the traveller brought him the only mortal dish he enjoyed, or perhaps the traveller had learnt his favourite dish, just to bring it to him. He refused to believe anyone would do something for him, let alone a mere mortal.
His doubts proved correct, as the traveller revealed their true reason for seeking his presence:
“Rex Lapis has been killed.” They finally admitted. Xiao froze, dish only half eaten. Who was this traveller, who dared speak such ridiculous notions to him? And yet, they seemed genuine, and Xiao could not fathom a reason why they would go to such lengths only to utter complete nonsense.
Which left the much more bitter alternative. Rex Lapis, the one who bestowed his name upon him, was gone. Xiao daren’t shoot the messenger, but he wasn’t about to tolerate them either. He vanished in a dark cloud of adeptal energy, fully intending to never see the traveller again.
As though fate existed purely to spite him, he once again came face to face with the golden-haired traveller. After the sudden reemergence of Osial, Overlord of the Vortex, all of Liyue’s Adepti had been called to protect the city. It was no easy feat, and the forces of the mortals they were protecting were also summoned forth, in hopes to win against the giant sea monster. Xiao was more than surprised to see the traveller, standing at the forefront of the battle, willing to do anything to help a fight which was not theirs. There was no time for questions nor complaints however, for it was once again a time of war - if only briefly. When his fellow Adepti entrusted their strengths to the traveller, Xiao did so too. It was then that he saw; this mortal was not quite the same as others he had seen, however he thought nothing more of the traveller than the other two mortals present on the Jade Chamber, fighting alongside the Adepti to save Liyue.
Osial was losing, and thus summoned forth torrential rain, causing the geo-constructed platform they were fighting from to break. Mortals, unable to save themselves, plummeted into the sea. In a blink of cyan, one was saved, and brought back to the still-intact jade chamber. Xiao turned to the golden traveller he had rescued, his arm around their waist, and hand clasping the one over his own shoulder.
“Be careful now,” he meant to scold, but his tone came out soft. The traveller nodded, before turning their attention to another who spoke. Xiao found himself unable to let go of them, and if he weren’t preoccupied by the dire situation at hand, perhaps he would have questioned himself.
Finally, Osial was defeated, the jade chamber serving to seal it away once more. Adepti and mortals alike stood on the now safe grounds of Liyue, the latter of which began to celebrate. A young child offered for Xiao to join them, but he declined. He could not be amongst mortals, even if he wanted to. As if second nature, he nodded towards the traveller before disappearing in dark energy. He did not miss the sly comments his fellow Adepti made about his strange actions that day, but he chose to ignore them.
He kept his hands busy slaying demons which had grown since Osial’s brief visit, he kept his mind busy with memories he had once tried hard to forget. Anything to ignore the strange actions he had done, anything to forget the gold that drove him to do it.
It would prove to be rather difficult, however, after plates of almond tofu began to show up daily on the balcony which they met. There was never a note, nor did the traveller hang around to see how their gift was received. The only sign that it was indeed them who left the gifts, was the glimpse of their golden braid or white cape escaping the scene, leaving behind only the dessert.
It… wasn’t the best almond tofu Xiao had eaten, far from it in fact. And yet, no matter how much he disliked it or wished to ignore the offerings, he couldn’t bring himself to leave it uneaten. Perhaps the empty plates only prompted the traveller to continue this one-sided affair. Perhaps, as much as he tried to deny it, Xiao appreciated receiving it.
For the first time in the weeks this had been going on, Xiao discovered a note under the plate. Carefully unfurling it while making sure not to drop the almond tofu, he read it.
Adeptus Xiao,
It is with much regret that I inform you: this will be the last plate of almond tofu I can offer for a while. My journey takes me far from here, and it will be a long time before I return. Perhaps I will never return, but I would like to cook you almond tofu one day that isn’t horrible, so I will try my best to survive until then.
Love, Aether
Xiao could only muster a small huff. Maybe it was in laugher, maybe it was something else. This mortal… was truly incomprehensible. They hardly spoke outside of necessity, and yet he felt the need to inform Xiao of his impending absence. On top of that, the traveller knew the almond tofu wasn’t good, yet he continued to offer it anyway. But… he wanted to get better. Xiao was aware of the human desire for self improvement, he had seen it for himself - how far mortals go to pursue it, yet, something about this felt different.
Someone who wanted to improve their skills for Xiao.
He looked over the letter again, sure that he misread it, and caught his breath upon reading - actually reading - the final line.
Love, Aether.
His hands trembled before him, as his heart rate increased uncomfortably. He saw a flash of red and immediately drew his spear to face whatever threat was causing this.
Except, there was no threat. There was not the pain or suffering he had come to expect with red. No. He took a deep, shuddering breath, realising that the red was no longer surrounding him, engulfing him. It merely danced on his cheeks, and filled him with warmth he never knew he wanted. This time, red meant the words he read on the letter.
Instead of hurt, this time, red meant love.