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Childe had to wonder if this counted as sparring with Zhongli. On one hand, the consultant from his time was technically the same being as the one who was standing there across the clearing and chucking house-sized boulders at him with nary more than a thought. On the other, he had a hard time imagining prim, proper, polite Zhongli with the ardent expression Morax was currently revealing to him, twisting his face into something dangerously reminiscent of exhilaration.
Childe found he didn’t care overly much either way. He had the privilege of going head-to-head with the future Lord of Geo – everything else could wait to be analyzed at a later time.
With an expression mirroring his opponent’s, the Harbinger charged forward, weaving through the crashing stones until Morax was within reach. The prime adeptus smiled, slow and smug, as he summoned his polearm and twirled it almost idly. Childe laughed at the provocation and lunged at him.
It was indescribable. His every move was parried, each swing of his blades met either shield or the handle of Morax’s polearm. In turn, he had to duck and dodge to avoid the god’s blade and the occasional stone which came flying his way, trying to lob his head clean off his shoulders. Lovely element, Geo, and he was not saying that just because of the way Morax’s entire being pulsed with the energy of his element, infusing the air with it and causing it to be hard for Childe to even breathe.
Stars above, he couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced the joy of battle with such an all-compassing force, so maddening he felt it in his very bones. The Golden House came close but that had been driven with an underlying necessity to fulfil his orders and go through with the plan Her Majesty had tasked him with. Though, well, his memories of it were also soured with the revelations which had come after the dust had settled a bit and it had turned out he had been played for a fool.
It didn’t matter. This, this fight was in itself simply for the sake of the electrifying surge of thrill it sent coursing through him.
He got a bit too close, one of his blades just nicking the white cloth of his opponent’s garb, and the god’s eyes flashing was the last thing he registered before he went flying a good distance back. Childe felt a tinge of pride when he managed to land on his feet.
“Come on, now!” he called, standing up straight and dusting himself off. “It was just getting interesting! No more of this flinging things at each other from a safe distance.”
“Interesting, you say,” Morax rumbled, his deep voice reverberating off the ground and through the Harbinger’s body. Definitively not something the Zhongli he had gotten to know employed anymore. “I suppose, yes. Alas, one should take care to not overlook that you are human. I do not wish to damage you beyond all hope.”
Childe’s smile was all teeth. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I can take it.”
The answering smirk could only be described as predatorial. “Very well.”
In an embarrassingly short time, the redhead found himself on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and the god’s weapon hovering above his throat.
“Yield.” Morax’s eyes flashed, as commanding as his tone. He had come to a stop besides his sparring partner’s splayed-out form and Childe had half a mind to grab onto him and try to wrestle him to the ground… to continue their match, of course. However, upon closer inspection of the circumstances, those being that he had not yet quite established how much of this was the god’s humoring of his constant pestering for a spar and how much was his actual wish for a fight, he shot the idea down. It would not do to push his generous host’s buttons. Especially when said host was possibly Childe’s only way to get back to his own time.
Still, he could not help himself. “Again, let’s go again,” he almost demanded, his voice coming out raspy and strained. His body was still singing with the thrill of the battle and he braced his hands on the ground to get us. The sharp point of a spear coming to rest just below his chin caused what little self-preservation instinct he had to force his body into immobility.
His chin was tilted up to meet Morax’s raised eyebrow. “I agreed to only one,” he reminded him. He was kind enough not to mention that Childe had been seeking him out for a spar practically from the moment the adepti had decided the strangely-garbed human who appeared out of thin air was not a threat and would be allowed to remain in their midst until they figured out what to do with him.
“One more, then,” Childe said, hoping to butter the god up with his most charming smile.
As he watched his mouth curl into an indulging smile, he thought, with a skip of his heart, that he had succeeded. “Was that a request or an order, dear guest?” Morax asked instead, leaning closer with a sharp smile and gleaming eyes. He was looming over him now, the sun behind him casting shadows about his face and causing the burning amber of his eyes to stand out even more. “One has to wonder about the time you hail from, that a human should feel comfortable giving orders to a god.”
There were many ways Childe could reply to that. He could draw his devil-may-care smile on his face and throw his past into the god’s face – he had faced abyssal monsters, creatures Morax will, as Her Majesty had told him, help create centuries into the future, and had come out alive. Terrified at first, still just a youth, but slowly that terror had transformed into a constant yearning for more. He knew these illuminated beasts suspected something, that they felt something about him was a bit off, but so far, they had not inquired too insistently. He could not decide if it was due to a respectful politeness and mindfulness of his privacy, or if these higher beings simply could not be bothered to consider a mortal in any great depth.
Had Zhongli also known immediately upon meeting him, before Childe had even introduced himself, who he was and what he had gone through? Did that amuse him as well, watching Childe blunder about in search of the gnosis when it was safely within the consultant’s elegant, gloved grip the entire time? Did he have a grand old time chatting with Signora before Childe barged back into the bank, having finally figured it out? The thoughts stung and he refused to linger too long on why that might be.
He opened his mouth to answer, not really sure what was about to leave his lips and whether it was meant for Morax or Zhongli, when they were interrupted by a quiet but decisive cough.
“Morax,” Guizhong called sweetly. “And our esteemed guest. Do be such dears as to stop trying to clobber each other to death for a few moments and assist us in winning this war you might have perhaps noticed we are embroiled in.”
Childe turned his head to smile sheepishly at the tall woman standing a respectable distance away from them. She returned his smile with barely concealed amusement twinkling in her eyes. There was another form standing a bit behind her, carefully observing the spectacle the two men must surely have presented. At that moment, Adeptus Xiao looked more like an unsure child than the fearsome warrior who had nearly impaled Childe with his polearm that fateful night when a brisk walk along the shore of Liyue to clear his head had turned into him leaning down to inspect a particularly lovely Starconch and somehow tumbling headfirst into an impromptu war meeting several thousand years in the past. The Vigilant Yaksha, ever so suspicious of anyone who might harm his lord, had been the first to leap at him and with Childe’s disorientation not doing his reflexes any favors, he might have dealt him some serious damage had the head of the war council, the Lord of Geo himself, not called him off.
“Adeptus Xiao!” Childe shouted, waving to him as one would to a friend they had not seen for some time instead of a powerful being who had tried to turn him into a freshly prepared Childe Skewer (trademarked). “Perfect timing, let’s continue where we left off last time.”
The Yaksha blinked at him with a hopelessly lost expression. He could not really be blamed for not knowing what to make of the man at his lord’s feet, waving him over energetically and completely ignoring the razor-sharp blade still in uncomfortably close proximity to several of his vital organs.
“Do you find that agreeable, Xiao?” Morax inquired kindly and finally withdrew his weapon.
The adeptus inclined his head obediently. “If my lord so wishes, I will.”
The god paused for a moment and considered the deceptively slight figure with a mild, warm look. “It is not a matter of my agreeing or not, young one. Should you wish to spar with Childe, then please do so freely. But if not, no one will force you.”
Childe opened his mouth again but a raised brow was enough for him to hold his tongue. Good to know shutting people up with only a look was one characteristic of Morax’s that still lived on in Zhongli, he thought with a quirk of his lips.
“I…” Xiao trailed off slowly. He glanced at Guizhong, who smiled encouragingly, and at Childe, who batted his lashes at him pleadingly. The Harbinger chose to ignore the harumph of laughter that came from Morax when he caught him stooping so low. “I would like to, I suppose.”
The redhead hooted in victory and was about to spring up onto his feet when he noticed the hand extending down to him. His eyes trailed up to meet kindling amber.
“Excellent,” Morax said, not breaking his gaze. “I will come to you when our talks have concluded.”
Childe allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and tried not to dwell too much on how close Morax had pulled him. That train of thought led only towards trouble.
-
True to his word, Morax appeared soon after Xiao had excused himself, stating he had business to attend to – a possible sighting of corrupted beings. Childe had eagerly offered his assistance but was firmly if surprisingly politely turned down.
As the god approached him, Childe had to wonder if that was his doing. Surely he had noticed by now that he was far more capable in battle than a commoner and while Morax himself and the quiet Yaksha had been able to knock him about, a handful of beasties infused with demonic energy should be a cake walk but still decent enough exercise.
Morax’s stony face gave nothing away when Childe voiced his thoughts aloud. “We had arranged to meet and converse,” he said instead, calmly rearranging one of his richly adorned sleeves. He had discarded the simple clothes he had worn previously in the day for an exquisite robe of gold, amber, and black. Clothing far too fine for just a simple stroll, the Harbinger would judge. “I imagine he did not wish to impose.” He saw the redhead’s raised eyebrow and a smile cracked through. “It would seem my enjoyment of your company is more evident than I thought. Or dear Xiao possesses even greater insight than I had previously allotted him.”
The other man did a double take at the forwardness and the smile only grew. “But enough of that. Come, tell me more of your time.” He started down a well-trodden path without waiting for an answer.
Childe followed him. “What do you wish to know?” he asked, a bit warily. He had been careful about sharing information and had thankfully been backed in that regard by Guizhong and Cloud Retainer – there was no telling how knowing certain aspects of the future could alter the flow of time. Morax had, as far as the Snezhnayan could tell, understood and agreed. And yet, still he sought him out for tales of his family, of his interests, and of anecdotes from his travels. He did not seem to mind the vagueness Childe had to wrap everything into in order to avoid accidentally causing a chain of events which would lead to what Childe knew as Liyue Harbor to instead be created and named Osial’s Outhouse or something similar. To be honest, the sheer magnitude of what a single slip-up could cause was giving him a headache. He had approached Guizhong a few days ago, not exactly intending on warning her – how could he, when he did not even know what exactly happened to cause her demise – but he felt he ought to do something when she had been, after Morax (and Xiao, in his own awkward way), by far the most welcoming of the bunch. However, the God of Dust had raised a hand in silencing fashion before he had managed to even open his mouth, and told him, with playful gentleness, to not spoil her fun. But he understood what she actually meant. And he understood why, millennia later, Zhongli still grew morose upon seeing Glaze Lilies and why he spoke with palpable grief about a lost friend.
Back in the past, still unaware of the fate that would befall his treasured companion, Morax hummed thoughtfully and told him to speak of whatever he wished. So, he did. It was both easier and harder to share things with Zhongli’s past self than with the man himself. Easier, because Morax had no idea of the context and finer details of most things and Childe could share stories of, say, his childhood without much care, and also harder, because he had to skim over certain important details and often found his stories more lacking than the actual happenings had been. However, the god did not seem to mind, and listened attentively, posing questions when he wished to know more or simply chucking along with his spirited retellings.
“You have mentioned your colleagues occasionally,” he said after Childe concluded a particularly juicy story of Dottore suffering the Tsaritsa’s wrath for a mishap in Mondstadt, while of course omitting the more sensitive details of the case. Well, Childe reflected, “mentioned”. More like had complained about their unscrupulous ways. It had been particularly ironic to hear Morax tut at some of Signora’s antics, knowing everything he did now. “And what of your leader? What makes you follow them?”
“Her Majesty is a true warrior,” Childe replied, just as thoughtfully. He recalled her piercing gaze into his mind’s eye. “Her ideals have led to plenty of people having their toes stepped on, but she has never deterred from her path, no matter who saw themselves worthy of trying to oppose her. I admire her greatly.”
His companion was quiet for a long moment as they walked on. Soon, the trees and shrubbery gave way to rolling planes of sand and the endless blue of the sea came into view. How odd, Childe realized; this was where he had gone when he had wanted to gather his thoughts before taking Zhongli up on his offer of drinks, when they would probably finally have a talk about everything that had transpired up until and immediately after Osial was released.
He wondered if the retired Archon had realized he was missing and had come looking for him. Or had time in the future simply stopped until he somehow returned? If he never did, would it simply appear as though he had dropped off the face of the Earth? Would time even exist if he was not there to feel its passing?
Ah yes, the headache was back. Why in the world couldn’t have this happened to one of his dear fellow Harbingers – let them wreck their heads over the particularities of the space-time continuum!
“Then…” Morax trailed off. He came to a stop and turned to face him; his expression still carefully neutral. “You plan on returning to her?”
Childe blinked. It was the first time the god had directly asked whether he planned to stay or not. “Uh, well, yes. Not just to her, I mean. Also my family; my younger siblings would miss me terribly if I did not come back. And… and I was actually on my way to have a very important conversation with a very important person the day I was transported back. It wouldn’t do to leave him waiting.” To his embarrassment, he felt his face heating up at his indirect declaration, more or less also functioning as his own coming to terms with his own feelings. There was no way Morax could miss what he meant.
He did not. “I see,” he rumbled slowly, his head tilted a bit to the side. He did not look particularly cross, thankfully. Thought there was a subtle undertone of… dare Childe even consider the possibility? “I would hope he is aware of how precious an affection he has claimed.”
Childe had to grin. Now he really hoped these two timelines were connected and he could proceed to mercilessly shove it in Zhongli’s face that he had been jealous of himself. “Not just yet, but I plan on making him well aware of it.” Morax’s burning eyes were still boring into his soul, searching for an answer, and despite himself, he had to drop his gaze to the ground to gather himself.
There, he spotted a Starconch. Now, they were not the most distinct amongst Liyue’s specialties, but something in Childe’s gut immediately recognized it as the one which had caused this entire conundrum in the first place. He scooped it up and inspected it.
“Lord Morax,” he declared. “I thank you for your hospitality and for your indulgence.” He presented the Starconch to the future Archon of Liyue, who frowned in confusion but nonetheless reached out to take it. Just before his fingers could wrap around it, Childe leaned forward, more than he would have dared previously, until their faces were almost touching. “Until we meet again.”
The god’s eyes widened and Childe’s world rapidly spun in the same way it had days prior. He grew dizzy and swayed dangerously, losing his footing, but just before he could collapse into an ungraceful heap on the ground, steady arms broke his fall.
As much as Xiao had endeared himself to Childe during his excursion to the past, he much preferred that the first thing he saw after travelling through time was Zhongli.
“Hey,” he smiled up at him. He realized he should probably stand up straight instead of leaning his entire weight on the consultant holding him up, but he figured he could steal a few more moments.
Zhongli smiled back and the warmth emanating from his face, his eyes, and especially the smile itself almost made Childe preen. “Hello, my accidental pilgrim.” The Harbinger laughed gleefully. So there was a connection! Excellent, his luck had finally begun to turn.
But teasing Zhongli could wait, as could the long conversation they really should have (and soon). For a while longer, they could stay like this.
Just until he gathered his wits, of course.