Chapter Text
Rex Lapis aims to retake Liyue Harbour.
(There are many things Rex Lapis aims to do, but few of them make up his primary goals. Claiming the seat of Celestia is secondary to his wish to end the war – it is simply the most straightforward way. He is not a warmonger, but he is not the Goddess of Salt who can get away with ignoring the war all together – and even that did not work out so well in the end.
Reclaiming Liyue Harbour is not essential to any other goal, it simply is.)
This battle is one that is necessary for that. At present the seas cannot be relied on, so, to rebuild civilization at the south of Liyue, they must first clear a path there, perhaps establish a town or two on the way. Something about trade and supply routes… Rex Lapis elaborates more, but Xiao does not remember all of it.
(He does not need to know all of it. Rex Lapis has declared that this battle is necessary, and so it is.)
In truth, there is nothing particularly special about this one battle, except for its outcome.
It begins like any other: Xiao two steps behind Rex Lapis in his human form. This is not the position of one that is trusted; it is that of one who may possibly be stabbed in the back if he strays too far from his lord and protector. He is still new to the army, and until recently… Rex Lapis tells him he has slain at least twenty thousand of his men in the last century. There were more still, before.
(Rex Lapis has assured Xiao of his trust in him. It is the people that he does not trust – his people and, apparently, Xiao’s vigilance.
Xiao does not blame the people, and he does not blame Rex Lapis.)
The way it proceeds, too, is not unusual: Rex Lapis shifts and takes flight, leaving Xiao at the front of the charge. It matters little. Xiao is small and quick. The enemies who see him do not take aim at him, and those who do, do not hit.
They take aim instead at the large dragon flying above them. He is fast, but so very large and close that he makes an easy target. But dragon scales are hard – Rex Lapis’s especially so – and his shield of Geo is near impenetrable. The opponents’ arrows and spears have no hope of scratching him. Xiao knows this. That does not mean he will watch them shoot at him and do nothing.
The job is easy for Xiao, who hears all their thoughts so loudly. He darts through the enemy forces to interrupt those who dare aim their thoughts upwards. There are too many of them, so he goes mainly for those who have charged their arrows with fire or other elements. The wind, too, helps to blow stray arrows away from Rex Lapis.
It is what happens next that is new: Xiao makes a mistake. (Xiao makes many mistakes, none of them in battle. Except this one.)
It is an inane mistake, really. Amateur. He jumps as they aim the next round of poisoned javelins, and it happens to coincide with the moment the previous round of spears – reflected off Rex Lapis’s shield – rains back down on them. He is in midair when he realises and…
(Surely, if he had been in possession of all his wits, he would have been able to dodge, if simply by letting the wind carry him far, far away. But he had once been shot down from the sky, and even now, centuries later, his wings are still broken. The phantom pains still keep him up at night.)
He freezes up in panic, as though he is not a seasoned warrior whose body count is larger than the army before him. As though he has not learnt how to keep his emotions away, especially in a battle. As though he has any right to even spare more than a passing thought to his own life.
And is that not ironic? The one time his thoughts stray to his own safety as anything more than an abstract concept – as a measure of his usefulness – is the time he sustains an injury that keeps him off the battlefield.
Xiao does not lose consciousness. No, he is far too disciplined for that. (Except not really. If he truly was, then he would not be in so much pain right now. He has learnt to pinpoint the nerves that feel pain, to ignore them. But he knows, vaguely, in the very back of his mind, that it hurts.) A spear had gone through his abdomen; and another, through one of his legs.
He is lucky that he is small, and that they were not even aiming for him. (How embarrassing is that? Being wounded so thoroughly by a stray spear. Two stray spears.) Then again, if they were aiming for him he would have been better prepared, because he can hear them think. (Men think very loudly, if especially incoherently, in battle. Perhaps it is because they are so very close to death.)
When he falls, it is far too late to escape. Moving quickly right now would only aggravate the wound, perhaps even make the poison spread faster. Right, poison. He reaches up and tugs the spear out. The enemy warriors stare at him in horror. They think he is a child. Morax’s territory had always stood between theirs and Qingce Village. Perhaps that is why they do not know of him.
In any case, they are foolish to stare. He is an enemy who has fallen and not yet died. They should finish him off and get back to their jobs. Not that he is complaining, not when their distraction means more of them are crushed when Rex Lapis lands heavily on their ranks.
(The impact shakes the earth and jostles him, but not any more than he did himself when he had extracted the spear.)
There is a shield around him, before Rex Lapis shoves him with his tail, through the ranks of his own army, and takes off again. The order is clear: Get Xiao to the infirmary.
He is in no state to walk, just yet, so he can only grit his teeth and bear it when one of the soldiers – one of the youngest here today – carries him. At least the soldier seems happy enough to be getting away from the frontlines – and happier still that Xiao does not weigh much, if the thanks he expresses in silent prayer to the adepti is anything to go by.
So it seems Xiao has saved a human today. The thought is amusing.
Aside from the simple fact that its leader is unquestionably stronger than any other, the most impressive thing about Morax’s army is the sheer competence of its healers – at least, when it comes to healing adepti.
They give Xiao a pill, and the poison is gone. Then again, this might be the work of his constitution as an adeptus rather than any healing powers these humans possess. They stitch up his leg and whisper to one another in hushed tones about his abdomen. When he glares at them – because they are not being quiet at all, and all the blood loss is making his head hurt – they shuffle away to attend to the other patients. They do not stop thinking loudly about how to fix his abdomen.
So, it’s cut open pretty badly, and the wound is… as messy as that one child’s attempt to make a butterfly out of a leaf. But his entrails are not about to fall out, and his organs are all fine. If he rests for an hour or two, he would have regained enough blood to stand up and fight again.
He closes his eyes.
Xiao does not, in fact, rest for an hour or two. He had closed his eyes before noon. It is dark out, now. And he is in Jueyun Karst, lying upon a mattress on a plaustrite platform in a pool between two waterfalls.
(The air of Jueyun Karst truly is different. He feels more refreshed than he has in centuries. Perhaps taking a rest here once in a while would be good for his performance in the future.)
He takes a deep breath as he catalogues his injuries. Far better, of course, than he had expected to wake up to. He can feel all his toes, and by his estimation, he could probably press a palm onto the wound on his calf without even wincing. (Not that he would attempt such a pointless action.) The hole in his abdomen has not closed up, and unless given some kind of adeptal catalyst which he has never heard of before, it is not likely to close up any time this week.
As he sits up, he thinks to himself with a derisive laugh, Rex Lapis is right to distrust his vigilance. (Nevertheless, it stands that if one of Rex Lapis’s soldiers truly tried to hurt Xiao in battle, they would not succeed, if only because their intent will stand out amongst the thousands of thoughts in the battlefield. Xiao is truly only capable of being hurt as collateral damage.)
He is healed now. Any further healing would require time and resources disproportionate to its effects. Xiao comes and goes as he wishes, but he is grateful for the healers and adepti who have brought him here to heal. So he thinks of leaving a note for whoever had brought him here, because if he knows the adepti at all, they will be back to check on him.
This is when he finds a note beside him.
(Lady Guizhong had taken it upon herself to teach him to read and write. Xiao is nothing if not a fast learner.)
Xiao,
Lie back down and rest. I will be back with almond tofu.
Be more careful. Your death would bring no benefit to Guili Assembly.
– Guizhong
As is often the case, Lady Guizhong’s words leave him wondering if she knows him too well, or not well enough. His abdomen is still bleeding steadily, so Xiao uses it as ink with which to write his reply before he leaves.
I do not fear death; when she draws closer to me, know that she is closer, still, to my enemies.
Xiao is not going to die. Evidence of it is this: The wind carries him as willingly as ever to the frontlines where the army has made camp.
Rex Lapis does not sleep on enemy territory. Xiao reports directly to him.
He does not seem overly impressed with how long Xiao had taken to come back. (Xiao thinks there must have been something in the pill the healer gave him, to make him rest for so long.)
“I apologise,” he says, lowering his eyes, before Rex Lapis can reprimand him. (Because he has learnt by now that when he does so, he does not face his lord’s wrath. Even on the battlefield, when he is more stern than elsewhere, a swift apology is enough to appease him.) “I was… distracted. It will not happen again.”
As expected, Rex Lapis sighs, and when he dares to look up again, all the rage in his features is long gone. “Does Guizhong know you have come back?”
Xiao is suddenly glad that he had left a note. “Lady Guizhong was not there when I awoke,” he says, and realises immediately how transparent that excuse is. It had taken him but a moment to seek Rex Lapis out. “I left a written message for her.”
Once again, he exhales audibly. After a long moment where he looks at Xiao consideringly, he gives Xiao a pill. “Take this and rest. I have the night watch covered.” He adds, for emphasis, “Rest.”
Rex Lapis clearly means it as an order, so Xiao treats it as such.
This time Xiao knows for sure that there is something in the pill.
When he wakes it is noon, and there is a shield around him and the soldier (the same one as yesterday, he notes) carrying him as he marches on behind the army. Even from here, he can see the shadow of Rex Lapis’s fearsome figure as he leads the march from the sky. He can see, also, the spears and arrows that are still being thrown at him.
Do they not know they have no chance against his lord’s shields?
Still, the sight makes Xiao’s skin crawl with irritation. He is able to fight now, so he will.
The soldier carrying him swears when Xiao moves. “Don’t move!” he pleads. From the rapid prayers he is making in his head, he seems to be convinced that his life depends on keeping Xiao from the frontlines. What a ridiculous notion. Rex Lapis is not any more capable of bringing harm to his own people than Xiao is.
“Thank you,” Xiao tells him. He can tell the soldier had been mindful about keeping his gait smooth. “I am well now.” And he is. His abdomen barely bleeds if he does not move. When he lands on his leg, he barely feels a twinge. It is less painful even than the moment he had obtained the injury.
Xiao summons his spear, and darts once again into the fray.