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“Have you ever wanted to die?”
—
A few weeks after the attack of Beisht, after the Qixing finally felt as if enough time has passed to ensure that the three-headed beast will not return anytime soon, Beidou had stormed through the gates of the Jade Chamber, passed all the frazzled secretaries, and dragged the exhausted Ningguang from her desk into a hole-in-the-wall bar.
At the scene, the pair met Ganyu and Keqing, the latter of which was not too happy about Ganyu dragging her to the bar at Beidou’s request.
After some time, with the help of some drinks, Beidou had the Qixing ladies relaxed and gossiping about some clueless dignitary or crooked merchant they had to deal with recently.
It was only when Beidou was called away by a panicked crewmember of hers did the conversation between the three Qixing ladies become more personal. Slowly but surely, the late night atmosphere converted the exchange of humorous childhood anecdotes to more serious topics. Like faith.
“Fighting under Rex Lapis’s skilful command instilled unshaking loyalty from all those who lived to see the end of the battle,” murmured Ganyu in her soft-spoken voice. Her eyes were downcast, fixated on her drink on the table. Her gaze was far away, but fond, reliving memories older than Liyue itself.
“Again and again, throughout centuries, throughout millenia, he proved himself to us.” Ganyu’s hands tightened around her drink. “To me.”
Ningguang placed her hand gently on top of Ganyu’s arm, shaking the adeptus from her memories. When Ganyu looked up she was met with a kind smile that she had never before seen on Ningguang’s face but Ganyu thought the features suited Ningguang’s face rather well.
“It is wonderful to hear what Rex Lapis was like so long ago. It probably should not come as a surprise that Rex Lapis was as skillful a leader thousands of years ago as he is now, but I suppose my human mind cannot fathom such consistency in an individual over such a time period.”
The hand that was on Ganyu’s arm travelled to pick up her smoking pipe. Ningguang twirled it absentmindedly between her fingers as she retreated into her own memories.
“I obviously do not have any personal memories of Rex Lapis, but he was one of the reasons for the wealth I have now.” Ningguang’s thumb grazed the gold accents over her pipe. “At times when the next meal was just a bit too far or my work seemed impossible to do, I took solace in Rex Lapis’s steady presence in Liyue’s lifespan. With Rex Lapis’s hand guiding Liyue, I felt as if all my struggles would eventually lead to success. With that, I could get through the day and keep working until I had everything I ever wanted.”
Ninguang stopped her pipe twirling and set it down on the table. She leaned back slowly, languidly. She looked at the two women in front her through her eye lashes and gestured wide with her hands.
“And look at me now! With enough wealth, power, and influence to build two Jade Chambers.”
Ganyu smiled warmly at the Tianquan.
“Indeed! It was awe inspiring, if not somewhat alarming, to see you accumulate wealth and power at such a fast rate. I am proud of being able to call myself your secretary.”
Ningguang grinned back at Ganyu, one of those true teeth-bearing smiles that no one will ever see within work hours.
The sound of glass clinking onto the wooden table top reminded Ningguang and Ganyu of their other companion. They looked over to see Keqing release a sigh from a recent sip of alcohol. Keqing, feeling their gazes, looked up and strained a smile at the two. Her smiling lips felt odd placed under the burning anger of her eyes.
“It is good that you both had something to help you push through the struggles of your past and become the woman you are now today.”
Ningguang and Ganyu spared each other a glance.
Ningguang cleared her throat. “Ah, my apologies Keqing. This probably isn’t the most riveting of conversations to listen to for you.”
Keqing waved the apologies off. “Don’t worry about it. Part of growing is to understand other people’s perspectives. It is nice to hear of both of your experiences.”
“What about yours?”
Ningguang and Keqing’s gazes whipped around to the secretary. Ganyu’s voice seemed to soar over the background noise of the bar.
Ganyu quickly placed her fingertips on her lips as her sheeks colored red.
“I’m sorry that came out louder than I intended.” Ganyu cleared her throat. “I was merely asking for your experiences, Lady Keqing. Could you help us understand your perspective perhaps? Something personal, not the arguments you’ve posed during the Qixing meetings.”
Pain and sorrow bloomed so quickly across Keqing’s features it had made Ningguang and Ganyu straighten up in alarm. Ganyu moved to retract her question but Keqing’s words beat her to it.
“Maybe another time. I don’t want to ruin the atmosphere.”
The sudden, fiery pain that flashed so suddenly throughout Keqing melted into an icy despondency. She looked to the side, determinedly staring holes into one of the walls.
“Against the wishes of the Adepti and the predictions of the Liyuen citizens, Liyue has come into the era of humanity.” Ninguang spoke her words slowly, deliberately, as if speaking solemn vows to her people. “My curiosity aching to understand the thoughts of the first, and for a long time only, advocate of humanity.”
Ganyu looked at Ningguang with wide, nervous eyes, but it seemed that her own curiosity trumped her concern of pushing one of the Qixing too far.
Keqing kept her gaze to the wall silently for such a long time that both Ningguang and Ganyu resigned themselves to not being able to soothe their curiosity that night. Then, Keqing asked them a question that seemed to still the very air around them.
“Have you ever wanted to die?”
Keqing said it in that tone of voice that was nearly a whisper if not for the gravel of her voice rumbling through her breath. Keqing finally stripped her gaze from the wall and looked at her two companions. Then she sighed.
“My parents were not good people.” Keqing laughed in the way that people laughed when something was grossly understated.
“If anything were to even minorly inconvenience them, I was the reason for it. And thus, I’d be punished.”
Keqing’s finger came up to trace a scar on her face. Her finger went from her chin, across the tip of her mouth, just barely past her nose, and stopped right under her eye. She looked meaningfully into the eyes of her coworkers. Whatever Keqing saw in their eyes seemed to have satisfied her as she closed her eyes and continued.
“In the early days I prayed to Rex Lapis. When I heard the door slam and loud, angry footsteps approaching, I prayed that they would not find me. When my ribs ached, my face stung, and my ears were ringing from the yelling, I prayed that they would stop hurting me. When, in the aftermath I had to clean the blood, wipe away the tears, and dress my wounds, I prayed that it would never happen again.
Again, the door slammed, the footsteps came, they hit and I cried and I prayed and I prayed and I PRAYED!”
Keqing slammed her glass down so hard that a crack formed up the cup. Ganyu flinched back into her seat and Ningguang reached out in hopes of placating her.
“Keqing you don’t have to continue. It’s al-”
Keqing continued as she didn’t hear Ninggunag. She probably didn’t.
“Eventually I stopped praying for help. Those were the worst years. My parents hated me and the seemingly benevolent Rex Lapis would not answer my prayers. So of course I was at fault. Everything was always my fault. So instead I asked Rex Lapis to let me die. Of course those prayers went unanswered.”
“That was when I started to hate the gods.”
Keqing whispered these words. Her throat constricted around herself, the words coming out reedy and strained. Her eyes had glazed over. She was not at the bar anymore.
“They would not save me, they would not kill me. No matter what they would not do anything to stop the pain. So many times I nearly did what the gods would not and killed myself. One day, when I was getting beaten again because dinner was too cold or the house was too drafty or something or the other, I had a revelation.”
“There was no one in the world that would help me other than me. Only I had the power to change my life. So I did.”
Something in the air shifted around Keqing. Ganyu shivered despite her cryo vision.
“With all my strength I got up and pushed my parents off of me. Then suddenly a purple glow encased the room. I looked down at my right hand and there it was. My vision.”
Keqing spat the word ‘vision’ with such vitriol it felt to the other two women that her spit turned into acid.
“I lost it. Finally, at the height of myself, when it finally occurred to me that I was the most powerful actor in my life, the gods deigned to show themselves. They have not answered a single one of my prayers but when I suddenly gained a sliver of confidence in my abilities, they decided to swoop in and take credit for all the strength I built to get to that point. I chucked the vision to the side.”
Keqing’s hands tighten so hard on her broken glass that the fracture branched out across the whole cup.
“Then I strangled my parents with my own human hands.”
Ningguang gasped but Ganyu was too shocked to do anything.
Keqing released her hold and let the glass pieces fall on the tabletop. She flicked her hair behind her dismissively, as if she did not just rehash her entire sordid past.
“I know more than most what can fall through a god’s hands. What evil can fester and grow under rocks that gods don’t bother to overturn. And I also know more than most the power humans have if they only understood what they had.”
Keqing was now staring at her gloved palms. She flexed her fingers as if feeling the blood course through the vessels of hands.
“The power to make another human want to die. The power to overthrow one’s oppressors then grow to be more than what their oppressors ever were.”
She looked up at Ninggunang, then at Ganyu, then finally back down to her own hands.
“Human hands have always been able to do more than humans think themselves capable. I simply realized this before most others.”