Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Ajax, don’t get into trouble,” yelped the young fox’s mother.

His siblings huddled around their mother’s legs as she paused to shout at him from their den, nestled deep in the forest and well-hidden beneath the roots of a massive tree. The small fox turned, beaming, to his mother—his blue eyes, reminiscent of his late father’s, shimmering.

“I won’t, mama!” He responded jubilantly.

Then, he bounded off a large tree root and down the hill towards the target of today’s adventure:

The human village.

His mother always told him and his siblings stories about the humans. About their ability to transform the leaves and meat of the forest into scrumptious dishes; their skill in fishing up even the most evasive creatures from the nearby rivers; and the funny clothes they wore on their body, head, and feet.

But she also told them of the humans’ cruelty.

“The humans love our orange fur,” she warned her pups. “So if you see them, you must run away as fast as you can.”

Ajax knew this better than the rest of his siblings, having witnessed their father caught and killed by the humans from the nearby settlement just outside the forest. His father shouted for Ajax to hide as the hunters broke his legs and silenced his cries with a crack to his head. The young fox’s stare never left his father’s body as they hauled it over their shoulders to bring back to their town.

Ajax never forgave the humans for that transgression.

And so, he took out his personal revenge on the humans by stealing from them.

Each day, Ajax would leave his family’s den on the hunt for food to bring back to his siblings.

Only the best will do, he thought, and who better to provide said feast than the humans who owed them so much.

He skirted the village’s outer wall before leaping through a crack between mossy bricks, wiggling his small body through, until he landed in an abandoned alley. He recognized early on in his scouting that the humans did not traverse this path often, and he chose it as his ingress whenever he scavenged the town. He stepped lightly, sticking to shadows and climbing up boxes and windowsills till he was on the rooftops. No one would catch him up here, and the height gave him a good view of the villagers’ whereabouts as he roamed.

And it also gave him ample visibility of his quarry.

Ajax sniffed the air and immediately caught the scent of a honey-soaked pig. He hopped along the rooftops until he was perched above the window hosting the succulent swine roasting above a pit. The pig itself would be much too big for the small fox to haul home, but once the humans sliced off its haunches—that was when he’d strike. He would just have to be patient.

But that was not a trait the young fox practiced.

He paced, bored, along the rafters and his nose and eyes wandered the villagers’ movements as they passed by below him. Then, in the corner of his eye, something caught his attention. A small boy with a red scarf wandered down a lone alleyway, his nose buried in a book and completely unaware of his surroundings. The fox eyed the lovely accessory around his neck, wondering why the humans chose to adorn themselves with such strange items, but also wanting to have it for himself. He glanced at the ham.

It’ll still be there, he told himself before making his way towards the distracted child.

Ajax nimbly maneuvered down a series of crates until he was just behind the boy, matching his pace while he eyed his prize. He imagined how nice the scarf would look wrapped around his own neck and warming up his younger siblings in the coming winter. Now more emboldened with his decision, Ajax waited until the boy halted—engrossed with some interesting passage from his book.

Ajax struck.

In a quick leap, the fox snatched the dangling end of the scarf with his teeth and circled the boy’s feet to unwrap it. The boy—bewildered—flubbed and flinched, falling to the ground and dropping his book nearby. He hardly had any time to formulate words before the fox had the scarf around its own body and was running away at full speed down the alley.

Ajax was ecstatic, his body brimming with adrenaline and head full of glee at his plunder, and as he climbed back up to the rooftops, he indulged in a few little hops to express it.

Good job, Ajax!, he praised himself.

Clearly, the little fox thought he was much more clever than the humans.

Satisfied with his new treasure, he resumed waiting until the butcher finally sliced the pig into manageable portions. It was easy stealing a piece from the windowsill, and soon Ajax was on his way back home with not one but two gifts for his family. He returned to the den and dropped the meat at his mother’s feet, beaming with pride.

But his mother immediately admonished him.

“Ajax! What is that around your neck?” She cried in horror.

“I don’t know, but isn’t it great? With this, we won’t need to worry about Teucer getting the shivers this winter.”

His mother nudged him back out of the den.

“Return it immediately,” she ordered. “If the humans find out you stole it, they will come looking for it and kill us all.”

The young fox cowered.

He had not thought of that. It was not his intention to bring the hunters’ wrath back to their home. He pictured his siblings’ and mother’s bodies slung over human shoulders and shivered.

“Okay, mama, I’ll return it,” he replied and scurried as fast as he could back down the hill.

Ajax returned to the alleyway but the boy was long gone. He had no idea how to return the scarf, but he simply must. He sniffed the ground and caught a faint scent that matched that of the scarf around his neck. As carefully as he could, he hid behind objects as he followed the scent’s trail until he reached a home.

This must be where the human child lives, he thought.

Checking up and down the street first, Ajax stepped out into the light and to the front door. He tugged the scarf off his neck and laid it at the doorstep. This would have to be good enough.

He was about to run away when the aroma of a roast chicken caught his nose. Up on the windowsill of the same home was its source, vulnerable for the taking.

We could always use more food, Ajax convinced himself. And besides, the humans still owed his family that much, right?

He hopped up to the windowsill and curled his teeth over a leg when…

“HEY!”

A man’s shout startled the young fox, and he hopped in the air, dropping the chicken off the ledge and to the street below. Large hands grabbed his neck and tail and he flailed desperately to get free. His whines and screams were left unheeded.

“Finally caught you, you little thief! We’ve been looking all over for what’s been stealing our food,” the man relayed while holding the struggling fox taut.

Ajax growled, snapping his teeth in an attempt to bite the hands that held him, but to no avail.

More villagers approached and soon a whole crowd accompanied his captor as they marched to a chopping block. Ajax cried louder.

“Mama! Mama! Save me! Please!”

He cried and cried, even as he was slammed down onto the hard surface and an axe was raised above his head. His eyes caught the glint of the sharp metal and for a moment, he thought back to his father and the resolution he had held in his eyes as he faced his own death.

Ajax, too, would be brave.

He stared down the executioner’s weapon, prepared to meet his fate.

“Good people, what is going on here?”

A deep voice rang out above the crowd, and all heads turned to the pointy-hatted stranger who addressed them. The executioner lowered the axe to his side.

“We caught this fox stealing food. He’s been menacing our village for years, so we’re giving it fair punishment.”

“Is it fair to take a life when all it has stolen is food? Has it harmed any of you in any way?” The deep-voiced man asked calmly.

“Well, no, but…”

“Then, is it fair for you to kill your neighbor if he stole from your home? From your stores? Isn’t there a more appropriate punishment for a thief?”

“We could cut off its feet!” A woman responded from the crowd.

“You could,” the man replied, “but that would be akin to sentencing it to death as well. A fox needs its feet and teeth to survive.”

“What do you propose then, mage?” The executioner asked, slightly agitated.

“Since the creature is unable to pay back what it has stolen, a term of imprisonment is fair. If you do not object, I will take it with me to carry out the sentence.”

The villagers muttered quietly amongst themselves.

“Should we trust him?” One woman whispered.

“I would not want to upset him,” responded another. “He is a mage, after all. He could curse us or cause a blight if we make him cross.”

Eventually, the group settled on a decision.

“The creature is yours,” the executioner relayed to the other man. “Do with it what you will, but if we ever see it in town again, it’s dead.”

The mage nodded, thanking them, then stepped forward towards the chopping block where the fox was firmly held down.

“Do not worry, little one. I will not harm you,” said the man. He reached out to Ajax’s forehead, and though the fox struggled at first, one touch of the man’s hand to his head had him feeling calm. Like floating on clouds.

The hands on his body released him, and he was scooped up by the strange man. Ajax’s consciousness flowed in and out as he felt himself being carried out and away from the busy village, and soon the familiar sounds of the forest surrounded him. He blearily blinked his eyes when the man set him down upon the grass.

“Go home, little one, and do not go back to that village. I protected you once, but I cannot do so again if they catch you,” the human spoke to the little fox, warm kindness in his voice.

Ajax shook his head to restore his senses.

He looked around and found himself in a glade in the forest, far from the village and his own home. In fact, he had never been in this part of the forest. Strange, considering he’d lived here his whole life. How was it that he never found this place before?

In the center of the glade was a well and a simple stone cottage surrounded by a bountiful garden. Blue flowers encircled the house, well taken care of along with the trellises featuring many colorful vegetables. It appeared this human lived out here, alone, in this secluded part of the woods.

The mage returned to his feet and left the fox’s side. He was surprised, however, to find the small creature squeezing between his legs through the open doorway to his home and observing the interior with curious eyes.

“Well, you are welcome to stay for a while if you like,” the man said, laughing slightly. “It has been quite some time since I’ve had guests, so please forgive the mess.”

Ajax sniffed at the many unfamiliar smells in the home. Herbs he’d never encountered in the forest hung to dry on the walls, and strange bottles along the countertops housed all kinds of weird things he’d never seen. He poked his nose in every corner of the home as the mage doffed his cloak onto a hook near the door.

The mage pulled items from his bag and placed them in cabinets and drawers. Ajax watched him as he worked, curious about the human that would save him from an angry mob. Surely, the humans of the village would like him less for his interference?

Done with his chore, the man turned back to Ajax.

“I’ll be starting dinner soon. Would you like to stay to have some?”

Ajax did not understand the question.

The man thought for a second then walked over to a cabinet to pull out some bottles and pouches. Carrying them in his arms, he approached a large cauldron set over a fireplace in the center of the home. With a snap of his fingers, a tiny flame sparked to life in the firewood beneath the pot, and, after a short while, it grew to a sizable blaze. In the cauldron, the mage poured in some liquid, sprigs of various herbs, and a few smelly items from the bottles. Ajax stared curiously at his actions, entranced with the way the human focused so intensely on his task.

Then, after a time, the mage ladled out a portion of the strange-smelling liquid into a mug which he downed after a cooling breath. He swallowed, grimacing.

“Ah… That does not taste very good…” he groaned, and to Ajax’s surprise, he understood it!

Ajax barked in alarm.

“Little one, can you understand me now?” The mage asked, smiling.

Ajax nodded.

How exciting! He thought. A human that talks like a fox!

Ajax hopped around in a circle, tail wagging, at this interesting development.

“Human, my name is Ajax! Thank you for saving me. You’re not like the other humans!” Ajax barked loudly to the mage.

But the man only smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry, little one. I cannot understand you. My potion only works one way. I will have to do some research before I can make one that works for you.”

Ajax’s ears fell back with disappointment, but only momentarily. After all, a human that spoke fox was great news on its own. Ajax planted his front legs onto the mage’s knees, panting with excitement.

“Don’t worry, human. I’m happy to have met you anyway!”

The mage bent forward to pet the young fox who did not recoil. In fact, Ajax leaned his head upward and hummed sweetly at the man’s comforting touch.

“I’m not sure what you said, but I assume you are pleased with this arrangement,” the mage replied. “As for my earlier question: would you like to stay for dinner?”

Now, that’s a word Ajax knew well.

“Yes! Yes, please!” Ajax yipped, hopping in place. The mage smiled wider, his eyes creasing softly.

“I will take that as a resounding ‘yes,’” he laughed, straightening himself.

Ajax followed the man around the house as he prepared their meal, and he listened intently as the mage told him stories while they rested their full bellies on the porch under the starry night. The human spoke of other lands far beyond this forest—of tall mountains that touched the sky; of oceans crawling with sea creatures; of lands enveloped in dense fogs hiding ancient secrets; and of underground civilizations frozen in time. Each story was fascinating to Ajax, and though he fought for as long as he could, sleep finally overtook his senses as he snuggled up close to the mage without a care in the world.

Chapter Text

Ajax returned to the mage’s home daily after that.

Rather than sneaking back into the human village, the young fox departed each morning down the hill until he was out of his mother’s sight, then detoured towards the hidden glade.

At first, he stayed at a distance, merely observing the strange human.

The man appeared unassuming—modest in the muted brown wardrobe he wore, and calm and reserved in the way he spoke. His hair, also brown, ended with amber tips, not unlike how Ajax’s own tail transitioned from orange to white. And his eyes gleamed gold like the coins the humans exchanged in the village.

He also lived simply, waking early in the morning to tend to his garden and singing to the strange blue flowers that opened and glowed to his voice. He spent much of his time reading on his porch until the sun left the sky, wherein he’d enter his home to cook a meal then head to bed.

Occasionally, he’d leave his glade to go to the village. Ajax followed him there too, at a distance, to watch him enter the walled town empty-handed and exit hours later, bag full of various goods.

And very rarely, the mage received visitors. Nervous villagers would approach his door, knocking and pleading desperately for help for one problem or another. A love potion, a salve for a poison bite, or a tea for a nasty cough; the people would beg for his help, and he would give it, as generous as he was. But despite his charity, those same people would flee quickly as if merely being in his presence would cause them untold harm.

The mage would linger at the door long after they’d left, a sad look on his face, before returning indoors to resume his daily routine.

It was simple. Quiet. And lonely.

Then, one day, Ajax finally decided to approach the human.

He sat on the porch and announced himself with a bark, summoning the man to the door. The mage peered down at the young fox and smiled, almost relieved.

“Hello, little one. I hope you’ve been keeping out of trouble.”

The man’s smile was so sweet and sincere, yet, the fox could not help but think it a little sad. Something lay behind his golden eyes, hiding some ancient hurt or burden the little fox couldn’t fathom.

Oh, how Ajax wished he could see the man happy instead.

He yipped and twirled in place before the mage beckoned him to enter his home once again. Ajax did not hesitate, eagerly skipping in and following the mage around the home as he accomplished his chores. The mage did not seem to mind his guest, choosing to explain his actions and delighting whenever the fox would respond back with barks and hums.

Ajax learned that the mage lived outside of the human village out of respect for the peoples’ fear of him.

“They do not understand the powers that exist in this world beyond their reach. To them, I am no different from the monsters that wander the untamed wilds of Teyvat.”

Ajax didn’t understand either, but he didn’t need to to see that this human was no threat to him. Or to anyone, really. This human was kind and considerate, scholarly and peaceful. Nothing like the barbaric hunters that killed his father and hunted his neighbors in the forest.

The young fox licked the mage’s hand and a small smile returned to the man’s face.

“Thank you, little one. I admit, I’ve gotten used to being alone, but having you here—it’s made me realize that perhaps I’ve always longed for a companion to share my days with. It’s been…a long time since I’ve had that.”

The man gazed out into nothing for a moment and the fox felt his pain. His loneliness.

Ajax leapt into the man’s lap, snuggling in close, and hoping to perhaps lessen this burden if only just a little. The mage petted his hand along the fox’s furry body.

“Thank you. Truly.”

After almost a month of visits, Ajax returned to a disturbing smell wafting from the mage’s cottage.

He leapt through the window unannounced—his visits now a permanent fixture in both of their lives—and settled on a stool parked near the bubbling cauldron in the center of the home. The mage did not notice him at first, still poring over a large book.

Ajax barked, shaking the man’s concentration, and golden eyes regarded him warmly.

“Oh, little one, I did not hear you come in. How are you today?”

The fox yipped brightly then snorted unapprovingly at the cauldron. The mage chuckled.

“Another attempt. Although another failure, I’m afraid. I had hoped we were closer this time.”

The mage had been slaving over a potion to help his guest speak in the human tongue, but all attempts ended with no good results. Ajax groaned at the prospect of swallowing down yet another version of the nasty-tasting brew.

“I must be missing a particular variant of herb,” the mage pondered aloud, his hand upon his chin in thought. “The ones I gathered from this forest and purchased from the village must not be the right kind. Perhaps in the caves to the north…”

He paced the floor.

“It’ll be half a day’s journey. I’ll have to leave the house unattended.”

The mage frowned at this thought, but looking at the inquisitive young fox eyeing him with bright blue eyes, he settled on a decision.

“It will be worth it,” he breathed out with a grin. “Come, little one, time for you to go home.”

But the fox didn’t budge from his seat. He pouted defiantly on the chair, insistent on staying put.

“I might be gone for longer than intended, and surely you’d be bored alone—“

An interrupting yelp silenced him immediately.

“Alright, then. You may stay.”

The mage threw his cloak around his shoulders, slid on his gloves, and affixed his pointed hat to his head. Then, he stood near the open doorway, a burlap bag slung over his shoulder.

“I will return before the sun sets. Farewell, little one.”

A quiet thump and the door was closed, leaving the little fox to his own devices.

Finally, Ajax thought. The opportunity I’ve been waiting for!

The little fox had been planning for a long while to make a gift for the lonely human he called his friend. The mage always seemed so pleased whenever he successfully made a favorable mixture, so Ajax thought to make something himself to bring about that same happiness. The fox had watched the way the mage filled the cauldron with ingredients from his cupboards, and how he mixed them over the fire. Surely, to do so without the mage’s assistance would not be too huge a feat.

He was a clever fox, after all.

Ajax hopped out of the window to drag in items he gathered over the month. Some tiny blue gem fragments he found hidden in the dusty corners of the mage’s home; some badges he dug up from the graveyard of the village; squishy water hearts he fished up from the lake because he liked how they felt; and a blue striped seashell his father brought home once because it reminded him of his son’s eyes. The little fox felt sure these items would make a perfect addition to the foul-smelling brew the mage left behind—perhaps make it smell better, even!

It took him many hours carrying each item in carefully so as not to break them. The water hearts especially were very fragile and he took great care in lifting each in his mouth and tiptoeing back and forth through the window until all items were laid out neatly on the floorboards.

He marveled at his work before resuming his task.

Hop after hop, Ajax dropped the items he gathered into the pot and, after the last item fell in with a plop, the liquid turned into a brilliant blue color.

The fox leaned in from his stool to sniff at it when…

KABOOM !

Birds scattered in the distance at the sound of an explosion echoing deep in the forest behind the mage.

He climbed to his feet from the cavern floor, herbs in hand, to stare in the ensuing smoke plume’s direction.

It was coming from his glade.

He quickly grabbed his bag and dashed back into the woods.

Receding blue smoke flowed out of the cottage windows when the mage finally reached the glade, and he rushed to the door, quickly releasing the magic seal that locked it with a push of his hand. He coughed, waving away the smoke filling the room, as he took stock of the damage.

His cupboards were bare, their contents now broken and strewn across the cottage floor, and the dried herbs that once hung from the walls were now shriveled and singed from the explosion. The mage leaned over to pick up and straighten the knocked over stool when he finally caught sight of something new and unusual.

A body.

He rushed over to the unconscious body of a young human man—pale-skinned and red-haired—but it did not take long for him to notice some features that were clearly inhuman: orange fox ears sprouted above a curly head of hair, and a bushy orange fox tail dipped in white lay lifeless beside the stranger. The mage turned the man over to find him still breathing.

He sighed, relieved.

“Thank Celestia,” the mage praised.

His voice stirred the young man awake.

“Ah!“

The red-haired man exclaimed aloud, and his blue eyes widened in shock at the sound of his own voice. He suddenly recoiled, scrambling backwards to press his back to the nearby bed. Then, he looked down, noticing his unfamiliar human feet and hands, and gasped.

“Ah—! Mn! Naa—!!”

Unintelligible sounds left the man’s throat and panic filled his expression.

The mage settled himself on his knees on the floor in front of him and smiled comfortingly.

“You’re safe, little one. You simply changed, is all. Are you hurt in any way?”

The fox’s panic settled a little, hearing the calming tone of the mage’s voice. He looked over his now-human body and tested lifting his limbs before looking back at the mage for more answers.

“You appear unharmed. That is good. Can you stand?”

Ajax tried, but this body was unfamiliar and uncomfortable, and he struggled to even pull himself up from the ground. But the mage paid no mind.

“If you’ll allow me, may I carry you?”

Ajax nodded.

The mage crouched beside the fox and slipped his arms beneath the other’s back and knees to lift him up with surprising ease. He carried Ajax out the door and to the small bathhouse behind the cottage. With a snap of his fingers, he lit the fire beneath the water tank and, after a pause, poured the heated water into the bath. Ajax sat still while the mage washed the blue residue from his body, his eyes watching curiously at the limbs the man raised to wash them, and he began to feel lethargic as the water warmed him. The fear and panic he felt moments earlier melted away at the mage’s comforting ministrations.

The bath complete, the mage wrapped Ajax up with his cloak and carried him back inside. He laid the fox onto his bed and tucked him in, making sure to dry Ajax’s ears and tail before covering him with multiple blankets.

The young fox tried to rouse himself—to watch the mage as he left his side—but sleep pulled him into sweet dreams.

The next morning, Ajax was awoken by the familiar sound of a ladle tapping the side of a cauldron.

He blinked his eyes open and spotted the mage stepping away from the pot and approaching him. He knelt beside the bed, holding the steaming cup close.

“Good morning, little one. Drink this.”

Ajax instinctively nosed the cup, forgetting yesterday’s transformation. When he noticed his snout missing, he shot a panicked look up at the mage.

“You need to sit up. I’m sorry, humans lack the features you are used to.”

Then, Ajax remembered. He clumsily drew his arms out from under the blankets and used them to prop himself up enough for the mage to lift the cup to his lips. Using a guiding hand under his chin, the mage helped him drink down the brew.

At the last drop, Ajax winced, coughing.

“Disgusting!” He complained aloud.

Blue eyes shot wide at the sound of his own voice speaking human words.

“Voice! Mine?” He asked, looking at the mage in alarm. The other returned a smile.

“Yes. Yours. But before we talk about what happened, can you tell me your name?”

The fox smiled, bright and wide.

Finally!

“Ajax! My name Ajax! Wanted to tell you since first day we met,” he confessed easily, tail wagging excitedly behind him.

The mage laughed rather unrestrainedly at this.

“Nice to meet you, Ajax. My name is Zhongli.”

Ajax found he really liked this ‘Zhongli.’

The mage’s mood changed considerably after Ajax’s transformation, and even though the fox often found the human way of walking, standing, eating, sitting, and even using the bathroom uncomfortable, seeing Zhongli’s unfiltered smile made the experience worth it.

Zhongli helped him grow accustomed to his new body. With hands clasped, the mage guided Ajax through his first steps. Though the fox stumbled often in the beginning—earning quite a few bumps and scrapes in the process—it took him only half a day to gain enough motor skills to run about the glade as if he had always walked on two legs. This was also how he found out he hated shoes. He discarded the leather things and instead ran about barefoot, making sure to wipe his feet before reentering the cottage as Zhongli asked.

Ajax also disliked the strange clothes Zhongli made him wear. So confining! He tore his shirt just a bit to let the wind blow through it. Zhongli did not scold him and only ensured all clothing he provided in the future would feature the same cutout.

The pair tidied up the mess Ajax created, the fox apologizing, but the mage easily forgave him.

“You weren’t harmed, so I am not upset. It will take some time for me to recover my supply. I know a potion that will change you back, but I will have to gather the ingredients. For the time being, you can stay with me.”

Ajax didn’t mind that plan at all.

In fact, as the first day drew to a close, Ajax knew he liked Zhongli more than as just friends.

After cooking and consuming their evening meal, they convened on the porch, same as the first day they met, under the night sky. Ajax sat on the wooden floor, leaning his head against the mage’s leg upon the chair, as the other softly pet down his hair and scratched his ears.

Zhongli is much older than he appears, Ajax contemplated, as he listened to the many tales the golden-eyed man shared of his past. He spoke of old kingdoms and old friends, and of powers that apparently existed interwoven with all living things in Teyvat. He informed Ajax that he could manipulate those powers at will, although he promised to himself years ago to restrain his use, as the people he often defended would brand him a monster on sight whenever they saw him molding the earth or brandishing fire.  Ajax could tell the mage still held many more secrets, but he remained quiet, content in simply being by his side.

When it was finally time for bed, Ajax prepared to curl up on a mat on the floor, but the older man tutted at him and led him to his bed. The space was a bit tight for two people, but Ajax easily snuggled in—no different from sleeping against his mother and siblings—wrapping his arms around the mage in order to make more room and to keep himself from rolling off the edge. The mage stiffened at this intimate action, but relaxed as he watched the young fox’s eyes close and felt his breath slow into a shallow whisper.

The mage slept, too, finally with company after such a long time without.

Chapter Text

Life as a human didn’t seem so bad if it meant living with Zhongli.

Ajax grew more accustomed with this idea as each day passed. As Ajax improved his coordination, Zhongli taught him how to perform some of the chores around the cottage. He showed him how to de-weed the flowerbed, water the vegetables, cook simple meals, and sweep the floors. Ajax treated each chore as something exciting—a new experience! He loved seeing his own successes, and he especially loved the proud look Zhongli showered him with whenever he made them.

Soon, Ajax was able to be left unattended whenever Zhongli departed to gather ingredients for the potion that would turn the young fox back. The mage would leave for hours at a time, often rushing back to the glade out of breath, as if expecting the worst upon his return. But nothing was ever amiss. Ajax completed his chores, occupied himself with little games he invented for himself, and sat waiting on the porch with a smile and wagging tail to greet him.

“Welcome home!” Ajax shouted to Zhongli as he approached.

“I’m home,” he’d respond.

It was during one of these such reunions that another witness caught Ajax’s eye.

Over a week had passed and young Ajax was not home.

It was not too unusual for the fox mother’s adventurous son to disappear for a day or two, but for this long?

Luckily, the family had plenty of food to keep the rest of her pups sated, but it wouldn’t be long before she would have to venture out and scavenge for meals herself. She fretted over the last time she saw Ajax, and she paced, worried, for her son’s fate.

She had to know.

Pulling more brush over the den entrance to further hide their home and her pups, she took one last glance backwards before heading down the path Ajax always took towards the village. She easily followed his scent through the woods, but strangely, it took a turn just beyond the hill. She lifted her snout to the air to sniff at the boy’s trail.

This is not the way to the village, she discerned.

So, she followed this new trail until she was drawn to a part of the woods she had never encountered before. And then, she entered a glade—a pretty and quiet opening from the dense thicket, warmed by the sun above, and highlighting a lone human home and a garden.

She flinched back into the shadows when she spotted two humans outside the home, but, unfortunately, one caught sight of her. She was about to dash back out of sight when she heard a voice call out.

“Mama!”

She glanced back over her shoulder and was surprised to see a human go down on all fours—fox ears atop its head, and an orange fox tail wagging from its behind in a color pattern similar to—

“Ajax?!” She barked out in disbelief. Against her better judgment, she inched back out of the shadows and towards the strange human.

The look in the human’s eyes was soft and pleading, and the mother noticed they were a distinct shade of blue just like her boy’s. All of these things could not be a coincidence.

“Ajax? Is that you?” She asked, still skeptical.

“Mama! It is! Oh, mama, I missed you!” Ajax responded gleefully, rolling to his back, happy to see his mother again.

But to the mother, she only heard strange sounds come from the creature’s mouth. She cocked her head to the side, bewildered. Ajax paused in his celebration.

“Mama?”

He rolled back over to his stomach, flush with the grass, and his ears fell back as he witnessed her confusion. As a fox wearing a human guise, he could still understand the fox language, but without the potion, his mother could not understand him. He whined, crawling closer to her, and she approached in kind. She sniffed at his orange hair and recognized his scent immediately.

It was her dear Ajax!

The fox mother yipped loudly and started to lick her son on the cheeks, crying.

“Oh, Ajax, what have the evil humans done to you?” She sobbed, and the boy cried too.

“Not humans’ fault, mama. I did this myself. But Zhongli help me change back.”

The mother didn’t understand her son’s words, but she felt comforted somehow that her boy did not appear harmed. He was changed, but still himself.

Zhongli stepped towards the grieving foxes. The mother sensed his approach and immediately leapt in front to guard her son. She snarled, fur standing on end, as she prepared to stop this human’s advance.

But Ajax intervened.

“Mama! Friend!” He cried out, nudging her with his head and pleading for her to stand down. Zhongli halted and bowed.

“Kind mother, my name is Zhongli. I understand your worries for Ajax, but he is safe here.”

The mother stiffened in shock at understanding the mage’s words.

“You talk like a fox?”

Zhongli bowed once again.

“I am sorry, I cannot understand you, but I hope you can understand me.” He knelt down to the ground to come closer to the mother fox. “Ajax accidentally transformed himself into a human, and I am working to change him back. He may not be able to communicate with you as he is, but he can understand your words. He will be safe in my care, and I am doing everything in my power to return him to you.”

The mother frowned.

“How can I trust you, human? You must have tricked my son. He would never trust humans after what they did to my husband.”

At this, Ajax whined, head butted against his mother’s side.

“Mama, Zhongli is good person. Not like hunters. Zhongli is kind and I love him, mama.”

Zhongli shot a shocked look at the young fox at this sudden confession, but he quickly collected himself.

“Mother Fox, Ajax came to me on his own after I saved him from the village. I did not ask him for any favors. He stays even now of his own accord. If you wish for him to return with you, he may, but please trust me when I say he will be much safer here away from the villagers’ eyes.”

The mother could not deny the mage’s words.

She looked at her boy, human but still ‘Ajax’ in many ways, and knew it would be best to leave him here. She gave him a lick to his forehead before replying.

“Stay here, Ajax.”

The boy’s eyes brightened at her words. He hummed sweetly, rolling a few times in the grass before hopping to his feet. He bounded towards the house with Zhongli following, then turned to beckon her in.

But she did not budge.

“Mama?”

Zhongli turned, too, and the pair watched as the mother slunk back out of the light and towards the dense forest. Ajax’s ears and tail drooped, sensing her discomfort. He crouched, pawing the air, with a whine.

But all he received was a sad look before she dashed back into the thicket and out of sight.

Ajax froze in place, stunned.

Why did mama run? Am I…causing trouble? Am I hurting her?

If I can’t change back, will I never be able to return to my family?

At dinner, Ajax poked at his food, his mind burdened with these thoughts. Zhongli sensed the young fox’s worries.

“Starting tomorrow morning, I will work harder to gather the ingredients to return you to your original form,” he consoled.

And as the sun barely peeked over the treetops the next morning, Zhongli left the cottage to do as he promised. Before he left, he instructed Ajax to continue his chores in his absence and to stay hidden if anyone came to visit.

“Don’t answer the door for anyone,” he warned.

Zhongli waved goodbye to the young fox and set off. He promised to be back in a week’s time.

Days went by and Ajax waited.

He dutifully did the chores Zhongli taught him, and prepared and ate his meals alone, usually on the porch so he could spot the mage upon his return. He also held out hope that perhaps his mother would revisit him, but no one came.

Then, on the afternoon of the mage’s anticipated return, he spotted a figure approaching the glade. In his excitement, he hopped to his feet and prepared to greet Zhongli home, but was alarmed to see a stranger instead. He quickly ran into the cottage and locked the door, hoping the stranger didn’t see him.

But unfortunately, he did.

“Hello? Mage?” A man called out from outside. “Are you there?”

Ajax pressed his back against the door, remaining silent, unable to understand the human’s words. After all, he could only understand Zhongli because he spoke ‘fox.’

“I saw someone just now. I…I need your help!”

The man did not seem intent on leaving, so despite his fears, Ajax responded to the man through the window, making sure to keep out of sight.

“Zhongli not here!”

“Is that you, mage?” The man replied, voice shaking. “My daughter—she’s sick, and I think she’ll die without a miracle. Normally, I wouldn’t resort to unholy magic but you’re my last hope. I beg of you, please come with me to the village and save my daughter!”

Ajax felt the man’s desperation, though he did not understand his message.

“Zhongli away!”

He hoped the man would take this as a hint to leave.

He didn’t.

“Are you his apprentice? Please, sir, I’m begging you!”

Ajax gritted his teeth, fear and worry starting to take over.

“Zhongli gone! Go home!”

The man did not like this answer. Ajax heard heavy footsteps on the porch, and a fist landed on the door behind his back, jolting him.

“I can’t go back alone! I have nowhere else to go. She’ll die, and I’ll take anyone’s help—even yours. I’m just asking for your time!” The man cried out louder, desperation and frustration evident in his voice. The man pounded on the door incessantly and Ajax shuddered at the sound of it. He attempted to crawl from the door when a shadow passed by the window.

He turned, wide-eyed, to catch the expression of shock on the villager’s face.

“What the—a demon?!”

Ajax scrambled out of sight behind the door once again, but the damage had already been done. He was seen.

“Demon. Demon!” The man outside shouted, then Ajax heard his footsteps recede into the distance.

It took Ajax some time to stop himself from shaking, and for the rest of the day he remained by the door, curled up and praying that Zhongli would return soon.

And that night, someone did return.

But it wasn’t Zhongli.

Ajax awoke from his nap to the sound of pounding footsteps and flickering lights flashing through the window panes. He quickly closed the curtains but caught sight of the mob of villagers approaching the home. Angry men brandishing pitchforks and torches closed in, and he knew they meant harm. In fear, he hid in the only place he could think of. He yanked open the cellar door and crawled into the dark space, slamming it behind him and squeezing himself behind some barrels housing wine Zhongli rarely indulged in. He cowered—burying his head in his knees—as he heard the villagers finally reach the home, thumping on the front door and smashing windows. The door eventually fell inwards to the force of multiple bodies, and the shuffle of many pairs of feet roamed the breached home above him as they searched for the fox.

“It has to be here! I saw it!” Shouted a familiar voice: the man from earlier in the day.

Ajax cursed himself for ever having pity for the human.

He squeezed his knees tightly, hoping they would find nothing and leave. He pleaded and pleaded, his ears deafened by the sounds of destruction above him, and he was relieved when it all suddenly silenced. He raised his head, fox ear twitching as he listened for any sign of life. It felt like an eternity when he finally decided to chance a peek. As quietly as he could, he climbed to the cellar door and lifted it.

“It’s here!”

Large, strong hands seized his shoulders and dragged him out into the light of torches. Multiple gasps in alarm rang out from the mob, and the man from before laughed aloud.

“I told you it was here! It’s either a demon created by the mage or it killed him!”

Ajax struggled with all his might.

“Stop! No hurt! Ajax good!” He cried out desperately, but clearly the fearful villagers would hear none of it from the fox-eared ‘demon.’ One of the men shoved a cloth into his mouth to silence him.

“Take it to the village! The elder will decide what to do with it!” Shouted another man.

Then, Ajax flailed, clawing at the men who tried to restrain him, until a club came down hard to the back of his head.

The last thing he witnessed before he lost consciousness was the shrinking view of the ruined cottage fading into the distance as he was dragged away.

Chapter Text

Zhongli knew something was wrong before he even made it back to the glade.

The normally-untouched dirt path he often traversed to and from his home was now trampled with what looked like a horde of booted feet. Sensing the worst, he sped up the hill to the clearing to find his fears well founded.

His cottage lay in ruins—windows smashed, door ajar, and his garden in shambles.

But worst of all: no life.

He ran to the doorway in a panic.

“Ajax? Ajax!” He called out, but to no answer.

The interior of his home was in disarray—the inventory he spent so much time restoring was now destroyed once again—and his furniture was either smashed or displaced on the floor. The cellar door lay open, and he peered down to see drops of blood wetting the floorboards below.

He knelt down to touch it. It was not recently spilled, but it was not very old either.

He exited the cottage to view the village in the distance.

That must be where they took him, thought the mage.

He didn’t have much time.

Ajax awoke with a splitting headache. He groaned, lifting his head groggily and noticing a distinct inability in moving his arms and legs. After a few agonizing seconds of orientation, he realized he was tied down like an animal—his legs and arms bound together, and his head was pressed against a chopping block not unlike the one Zhongli saved him from over a month prior. He struggled against his bonds until a firm hand to his back stopped him.

“Quit moving, demon, unless you want to die early,” warned the executioner posted beside him.

Ajax could not understand the human’s words, but he felt his intent. He obeyed, then turned his attention to his surroundings. It was night. He was in the middle of the town square—one he knew well from his scouting days—and all around him were the humans he had watched over the years. Some were shouting, some crying, and some covering the eyes of their children. But all were assuredly afraid of him.

“What is it??” A woman cried out from the crowd.

“Will it kill us?” Another questioned, fearful.

“Where is the mage? He could tell us!” Asked another villager.

“The mage is either gone or dead,” responded a man—the village’s elder—standing steps away from Ajax. “This creature was hiding in his home. As you can tell, it is inhuman and a threat.”

“Good riddance!” Shouted an elderly woman.

The fox whined from behind his gag. The elder ignored his cries.

“Good people, this creature’s existence is proof enough that the mage is a danger to us all. Do not think that I’ve been blind to some of your appeals for his sinful magics,” accused the elder to the crowd. “This is the danger you invite to our homes! This is the evil you invite upon our children!”

Multiple people cried out in fear. Others raised their torches higher in concurrence.

“Let this creature’s death be an example of our faith! That magic is not welcome here!”

The people in the square shouted in agreement with the elder’s words.

“Burn it!” “Cut out its tongue!” “Return it to the hell from which it came!”

Ajax sensed the growing tension in the crowd and squirmed. Tears peeked in his eyes when he heard the sound of an axe being sharpened beside him.

“Zhongli!” He begged from behind the gag. “Zhongli! Help me! I don’t want to die!”

He wiggled and bucked until more men arrived to hold him down. The axe, sufficiently sharpened, was raised into the air to the resounding cheer of the crowd.

Ajax clenched his eyes closed and held his breath as he waited for it to fall.

Zhongli panted harshly as he finally approached the town square. A large crowd of people surrounded its center, shouting for punishment for some figure in the distance. The mage cast a spell to magnify his view and he gasped to see that it was Ajax.

He shoved villagers aside as he forced his way through them. He didn’t care if they were men, women, or children—this violence…it must stop! He barely escaped the throng when the executioner’s axe raised high into the air.

His eyes shot wide.

His breath caught in his throat.

He reached an arm forward.

A word left his lips.

Then everything fell silent.

Ajax shuddered in place, but the axe never fell. There were no voices. No sound. Nothing.

He finally mustered the courage to open his eyes, and he was surprised to see light. He blinked a few times to adjust to it, and noticed that everyone around him was frozen in time. The axe hung above him imposing but suspended, and the men on his back remained stationary like statues.

Then, a figure’s movement caught his attention. It came closer, and he saw that it was Zhongli.

Except he looked different.

This Zhongli wore long, flowing robes made of fabric so delicate it looked like it would fade away with a breath. His movements were smooth and gliding, like the ebb and flow of a river, and his hair laid unrestrained behind his back, glowing at the ends like dying embers. His eyes, too, glowed an ethereal gold and upon his head was a crown of golden antlers. A strange but warm light emanated from his presence, and to the humble little fox, he appeared a god.

“Ajax,” Zhongli finally addressed calmly. “Do not be afraid.”

But Ajax wasn’t. How could he, when Zhongli was to be his savior once again?

The mage removed the time-frozen axe from the executioner’s hand and easily pushed away the men restraining the fox to the chopping block. With a touch of his hand, the ropes binding him disintegrated, and the mage helped the fox to his feet.

Ajax opened his mouth to speak, but Zhongli pressed a finger to his lips.

“Ajax. Go home. I will meet you there. Do not stop for anything, and please, do not look back.”

The young fox nodded.

Then, he ran.

He ran past the frozen and silent crowd; he ran out the village gates; and he ran up the hill and into the forest towards the hidden glade. A white light flashed behind him, but he dared not look. Zhongli told him not to, so he wouldn’t. He ran and ran until his legs nearly gave out from under him as he finally made it to the familiar clearing.

He looked upon the sad state of Zhongli’s home. The garden was destroyed, each little blue flower trampled by the intruders, and the vegetables laid in pieces in the dirt. Ajax did his best to carry out the irrecoverable items of the home to a pile outside, and swept the floor of debris. He propped up the broken leg of the bed and put down fresh linens, setting it up for the mage’s return. Then, he sat himself on the porch to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And finally, Zhongli appeared in the distance, walking slowly up the hill. Ajax hopped from his seat to greet him, and when the mage welcomed his relieving hug, the fox felt the weakness in the other’s bones. Ajax looked the man up and down and noticed he no longer had his divine features—he looked like he should. Simple, quiet, and kind.

“Zhongli healthy?” The fox asked, head cocked to the side in concern.

The mage pulled Ajax close and squeezed him tighter in the hug.

“I am, but I’m afraid using my full powers has made me tired. I…promised myself I would never do so again, but given the situation, I felt I had no choice.” The mage paused before continuing. “I wiped the villagers’ memories, so that they will remember none of this. Not of you. Not of this glade. …And not of me.”

Ajax remained silent, nuzzling his head against Zhongli’s chest. The mage heaved a heavy sigh.

“I’m afraid that I will have to find a new place to live, like I have…for thousands of years. Maybe find a country where the people of that land will learn to trust me. Like you have.”

The fox pulled back when the mage sifted a hand through his hair and pressed a thumb to his forehead. His mind instantly fogged.

“Thank you, Ajax, for being my friend. I apologize for all the hurt I caused you and your mother.”

Ajax heard these words but they blended together, echoing in his mind as if he were in a cavern. He slurred out words of his own, but couldn’t hear his own voice. Then, he felt his body go limp and Zhongli carried him towards the cottage and onto the bed.

His vision was hazy as he observed Zhongli retreat, taking items out of his burlap pouch and brewing up some concoction in the cauldron.

Ajax blinked.

Zhongli was in front of him now, lifting his head to coax a warm cup up to his lips. He subconsciously fought it, mashing his lips closed and fighting back tears as he tried to resist the brew’s entry, but another press of Zhongli’s hand to his forehead made him compliant. He drank down the potion, and the last thing he heard was the kind man’s deep voice.

“I love you too, Aja—“

Ajax awoke to the morning sun shining in his eyes.

He uncurled his furry little body and stretched his limbs upon the dewy grass.

“Ah~~ What a long nap! I feel like I slept for a month,” the young fox yawned loudly.

Blue eyes blinked as he took in his surroundings.

Where is this place? He questioned, not recognizing this clearing. I don’t remember coming to this part of the forest.

He spun in place, noting the dirt path, lone well, and abandoned garden in the peaceful glade he found himself in. And he distinctly noted the deserted stone cottage—door ajar—in the middle. He hesitantly approached it, back hunched and with wary steps, and entered to find it completely bare. A cellar door lay open, its stores vacant, and a single bed sat cold beneath a window. Cupboards on the wall were agape and empty, and a large black cauldron stood lonely in the home’s center with a small stool by its side.

Ajax peered upon these furnishings with curiosity.

Who would live out here when there is a perfectly suitable village just down the hill? Asked the fox to himself.

He snorted into the dusty space, believing whoever did must have been a silly person.

He skipped out of the home, off the porch, and turned towards the direction of his family’s den.

Mama must wonder where I’ve been, he thought to himself. I better hurry back before she misses me.

He dashed towards the glade’s perimeter, about to toe the line between the warm grass and the dark thicket, when he felt a presence behind him. He paused, then turned to look towards the cottage, to find nothing changed.

And yet, his heart stung from something unknown.

He shook his head.

“Silly Ajax,” he scolded himself. “No one lives there. No one at all!”

The little fox bounded back into the forest to return to his mother.

He wouldn’t want to worry her, after all.

Fin.