Chapter Text
Cloud Retainer’s plan is very simple.
That is… not meant as a compliment. It is so simple that Morax feels compelled to ask, “Is little Ganyu going through that phase already?”
She ruffles her feathers and does not deign to him deserving of a response.
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” Guizhong says, and that’s that.
Cloud Retainer’s reasoning is as follows: The vast majority of the adepti (Morax and Ping being the exceptions) prefer to spend their days in their original forms. Xiao is stuck as a human for reasons beyond his control, but there is no doubt in anyone’s minds that he would like to fly on his wings again. Outwardly, aside from his eyes and the fact that he has not grown in at least five hundred years, he seems no different from any other human child. So, he must feel lost and like he does not belong, even though he is in fact as much an adeptus (more so even, in Morax’s opinion) as any of them.
Cloud Retainer’s plan is this: They should all of them wear a badge of honour or something to that effect, so it is obvious to anyone at first glance that they are the same.
(For the record, Morax would also prefer to spend more time in his dragon form, but he has been told that it is intimidating, and frankly it is too large for him to walk around civilization without breaking a building or two. Ping is merely in that phase where she is more interested in the stories of humankind than ‘meditation, starvation and whatever classy gatherings you have in Jueyun Karst.’)
Guizhong has recently acquired some lacquer. A lacquered leaf cut and folded into the shape of a butterfly sits on her window sill. It will last for at least three decades, she assures him.
She refers not to the leaf, but the effects of the paint. The paint, which she and Cloud Retainer have agreed, they will all use around their eyes.
“You have very pretty eyes,” Guizhong tells Morax. “This paint will make them prettier.” When Morax expresses his doubts about how this is meant to aid them in the war, she spends a long moment thinking. Eventually, she says, “Happy warriors are strong warriors. And seeing this paint around your eyes will make anyone’s day.”
He still has his doubts, but when Guizhong resorts to arguments of this quality, he knows she is very determined. This matter is simply not worth getting into a squabble over, so he relents.
If Morax was doubtful, Xiao can only be described as scathing.
“All the adepti are doing it,” Morax tells him, because this always ends up being his job. “You are one of us, so you must do it too.”
Xiao does not look the least convinced. Honestly, who can blame him? Still, Morax knows he will do it, if only because he says so.
Morax is loath to admit it, but the results speak for themselves.
Cloud Retainer’s plan works.
By the moonlight, Morax espies Xiao in conversation with another one of the young adeptus warriors. Well, perhaps not conversation, exactly, but they are in companionable silence. And this is not the first time, either. Even the mortals of Guili Plains are no longer actively avoiding him. This morning, he thought he saw Xiao give one of them advice on spear handling.
In Qingce Village, almond tofu has become a popular recipe, though they generally use apricot kernels instead.
“The paint has made him seem more approachable,” Morax concludes.
Beside him, Guizhong guffaws.