Archive of Our Own

The Geo Archon had ways of communicating with the yaksha. Ways that moved them without words, like a prayer, or like a conversation that they could not hear but could still understand. He stood. It was not the message that shocked him so much - it was that there was still a Geo Archon at all. His stomach knotted with grief and hope, twin flames that were soon doused in the blackness of his karma. His face set, his weapon glittered into his hand. He vanished, leaving pools of eddied wind behind him.

-

Venti’s scream was buried in the earth. Hot air hit his mouth as it rebounded from the rock in front of his face. The soft clothing at his back scuffed against uneven boulders, every limb hitting a wall if it tried to fold, his elbows bruised and his feet incapable of squirming even an inch. He screamed again as he tried to push his hands up, to force any of the fallen rocks around him to give, but even when he did manage to jostle something he was met with the deadly sensation of shifting, heavy sand above.

His form vanished. Wind rushed at every conceivable crevice. Sand whipped through the gaps, trickling through the space like hissing water. He pushed himself through the rocks, shoving apart motes of dirt, filling all of himself into any weak fracture in the hopes of blasting it open. The pressure rose and rose, but from the outside of the rockfall there was only the smallest rumble. Some stones trickled from the top of the fallen mound.

He collapsed back into his human body and tried to breathe. His body had to contort to the shape of the boulders, and there was a bruise forming on his forehead that he couldn’t reach. Wind whipped around him, tearing through his hair and loose clothing, pulling and pushing at every immovable wall. His scream left the ground muffled and barely audible, though it ripped at his throat and quavered in its hoarseness.

He fluttered against the rock, panic strengthening him just enough to smash his own fingers and shake the blood in his veins. His breathing was ragged now, coming in between sobs and incoherent terror. His high-pitched voice hit a new octave as he screeched as loud as he could. “HELP ME!”

“Lord Barbatos.” The statement, though loud, was not a shout. The voice came from up above.

“Get me out! Get me out!!” Sand cut his skin and the frantic wind blasting around him stole the air from his lungs. It was making him light-headed. Even from above ground, Xiao could hear him crying through each breath.

“Calm down. You’re wasting oxygen,” he said as he planted his feet beside the tumbled mound of rock and debris. His hands grasped one of the smaller boulders and twisted it free.

“Don’t leave me!”

Xiao didn’t understand the Geo Archon’s wisdom in sending him here. There were others who could make a quicker job of physical labour like this - he was a creature of speed, not strength. His own wind powers dragged sand from the gaps between the rocks, but could do little else to assist in the task.

“Alatus!”

Xiao blinked, then looked down to the ground. “What?”

“You’re still there?”

He frowned. “Of course. Why would you assume I’d leave?”

“You stopped talking!” came the stifled, frantic reply. “Keep talking!”

Down below, Venti tried to bend his knee. He couldn’t - it locked against the rock ceiling. The air was thinning and he couldn’t move his head. His limbs fluttered in the silence, the air tugging and wrenching at his clothes. “Xiao!!”

Xiao gritted his teeth as he shoved another boulder from the pile. Sand was sucked away from the site as if it were falling upwards in an hourglass. “Can’t you just trust me?” he asked as he shoved the end of his polearm into the gap in the rocks. He heaved it up and levered them apart. There were more beneath them. He sighed. Venti’s shriek cut through the quiet.

“No!! Please, just talk to me!”

“Uh…” Nobody had ever required he make idle small talk before. “I… like your music,” he began. Then he added, “I play the flute,” while flushing pink and glaring at his scrabbling hands. “Do you… play any songs from Liyue?”

“Um, ah…” As Venti’s limbs fluttered, so did his thoughts. They hit against a dozen topics that mostly involved being buried alive.

“Lord Barbatos! Songs! What - do - you - play?”

“All of them!” he squeaked, “I play all of them!”

“And your favourite?”

Venti tried to keep completely still as he thought. Testing his limbs against the rocks only made him more aware of how trapped they were. Xiao shoved his shoulder against the largest rock on the mound, gritting his teeth and digging his feet into the grass. “Come on-!” he growled, “Answer the question!”

The rock moved. First by only and inch, but then the grit gave way and it bounced with thunderous vibrations down the hill. A shaft of sunlight hit Venti straight in the eyes.

A tornado burst from the hole, sending Xiao staggering backwards as dirt erupted in every direction. It tugged his clothes and streamed through his hair, forcing his head up to the sun as leaves, sand and flower petals rushed up against the big blue sky. The smallest of smiles crossed his lips. The clouds moved, spreading and thinning as the tempest whipped and danced so close to the sun. A bright giggle bubbled through the air. A green body fell from high above and landed in his arms.

“Agh!” Even Xiao’s sound of shock had a numb and deadpan quality to it.

“Thank you!” Venti was as light as the sunlight itself as he bounced in Xiao’s hold, feet kicking with delight. His body was scuffed but unharmed, his hat battered but repairable. A broad, bright grin filled his whole face. “Thank you! How did you even find me?”

-

Zhongli sat at the Third Round Knockout, a pot of tea and two cups on the table in front of him. He brought one to his mouth and took a sip in silence.

“You look pleased with yourself, Zhongli,” Childe said with a smirk as he looked over the bill. “Are you up to something?”

“I was merely thinking of an old friend,” he replied. “That’s all.