Chapter Text
Several Years Before the Traveler Arrived
Liyue was a vast nation of mountains and steep cliff faces insulating itself from other nations. One with adeptal arts had no issue traversing the land, and humanity’s sheer persistence drove them to all corners of the world anyways. Xiao cared little for the politics happening between his oath-sworn lands and those of other nations. His was a duty of eliminating demons, protecting the people of this land, and honoring the orders of Rex Lapis.
Roaming mountain peaks was a stroll for the adeptus, and the qingxin flowers a comforting scent on the breeze. From this height, mortals would only hear the howling winds, but he heard so much more. A mountain below him, he heard the telling signs of a battle. He could see the figures moving, though one more fluidly than the rest. He dove down with the grace and speed of the hawks above.
Observe, do not engage.
He managed to grasp the cliff face, finding footing and maintaining a distance from the commotion. The humans he witnessed were strange, wearing armor foreign to the adeptus, wielding weapons charged with elemental energy. The aura these people gave off was that of a malady, an impending calamity— the hair on the back of his neck rose. He knew the stench of death, and the chaos that stained the earth from the end of a long lived life.
Has humanity sunk so low… to use the remains of the dead?
The oversized humans were surrounding a dark figure. They wore a cloak, but a shock of red hair fell over their shoulder. With a claymore in their right hand, they reached out their gloved left. Something strange happened, as if watching an old memory come to life. Black chains manifested, as the wind picked up around them. The hood of the figure fell away, as those black coils ensnared their enemies.
It was like seeing a ghost. A figure with flaming hair, one with strong hands commanding dark steel and subduing foes left and right. That sturdy claymore slashed and hacked through bodies now just as one once had long ago.
“Berith?”
For a moment, Xiao couldn’t believe his eyes. It couldn’t have been that god. Yet, as he watched on, as the rampage resolved, he couldn't think anything else. Upon saying that name, the adeptus believed the figure turned to face him, as if hearing his call. Their eyes were rubies, concealed by an avian mask. Could it be?
Clouds shrouded the mountains, lightning flickering across the peaks. A grounding pull tugged at his chest.
“Xiao.” With the call of his name by the Lord of Geo, the yahska vanished with the wind. Qingxin petals drifted into the ravine, as the stranger sat in exhaustion. Amidst the gore, a sense of peace came with rainfall and pollen.
“Master,” Xiao called. Rex Lapis stood atop Mt. Tianheng, overlooking Liyue Harbor. Xiao knelt, showing absolute reverence with his bowed head.
“The winds are changing,” the Archon spoke. To this, Xiao looked up to the god. “However, I cannot tell if it is storms or a gentle breeze.” Xiao understood his meaning, and stood straight. For a moment, they remained in silence. Yet, something bothered the adeptus. “Please speak, young one.”
He cast his gaze towards Danyu Ruins, remembering the fight and the brutal slaughter. He took a breath, knowing the answer to his ridiculous question. “Is it possible for a god to live again?”
The Archon remained silent for some time, thinking these words over. He’s lived many, many years. He’s seen the rise and fall of those like him. He’s held onto those whose light has faded and he’s been the reason why that light was extinguished.
“It depends, I suppose, on how one defines to live again. One's remains may become dust, forever scattered on the breeze—knowing the freedom of the winds, unbound by mortal form. Another encapsulated in salt, preserved as an enduring memory. Souls lost in sea growing in the shallows to guide sailors home. Mortal flesh buried to sustain the earth, energy passing from one to another…”
“Master.”
“My apologies,” the man chuckled, though panged with grief. “One’s life has a beginning and end. One's soul, however, continues on through several phases of life and death.” For a brief moment, the Archon gazed upon the young one’s face—furrowed brows and a thoughtful gaze, and he wondered aloud, “Why does this plague you?”
“Just a memory.”