Chapter Text
Rain rolled in from the ocean like an unfurling sheet. At first there was only a gentle sizzling sound on the horizon, but within the space of a single breath it hissed down, louder and louder, darkening the dirt and grass and filling the air with sweet-smelling moisture. It soaked through everything; the trees became green-topped waterfalls, the rolling hills of the Dihua Marsh became the source point of white rapids, and two men dashed for cover.
Childe’s laughter rang across the cliffs in horrified glee as they both dove for an outcrop - one of many that dotted the landscape and hemmed it in like teeth. He grabbed Zhongli’s sleeve and pulled him into a crack between the rocks, heaving his shoulder enough to divert the course of his weight. Zhongli swang into the small space and had to slap his soaking hands down beside each side of Childe’s head to avoid crashing face-first into him. Rainwater poured down the tips of their noses and drizzled from their hair. Childe’s shirt stuck to his skin, Zhongli’s coat hung limp from his body. Another giggle escape the younger man’s chest, finding a mad sort of humour in the situation.
“Sorry, Zhongli! I didn’t realise we’d be crammed in so close!” Zhongli’s chest was only inches from his own, and there wasn’t any space to back up. This crevice went deep into the rock, deeper than light could penetrate, but was only wide enough for two bodies.
It was only for a moment, but as they panted and as the water rolled from their bodies, their eyes met - dead, blue eyes meeting a pair that were brilliantly alive. Childe felt electricity tingle across his lips. He could feel the other man’s breath on his skin. He smelled of silkflowers and sandalwood.
“There’s no need to apologise,” Zhongli replied breathlessly. He straightened up as best he could, knocking his knee in the space betwen Childe’s legs in order to push his weight backwards. Childe’s hand twitched as instinct told him to grab the man’s coat and pull him back in, but common sense clicked in a split-second later. With their backs to the rocks, they had just enough space to breathe and to see the flushed expressions on both of their faces.
Childe had never known that Zhongli was such a fan of hiking. He had taken such severe injuries from his battle with Azdaha that strenuous movement had been forbidden to him, and Childe had hoped to be an efficient and helpful nurse since, after all, he knew what it was like to be ripped into by powerful enemies. But he had found that after a few days without challenge or violence he had become antsy, aggressive and manic. Zhongli’s neat and comfortable home had become prim and stuffy, and he’d been growing frustrated at the silence that tended to reign there. It was then that Zhongli had asked if he’d wanted to go for a walk. It had become a daily habit, and although it didn’t get rid of Childe’s need to fight it had at least taken the edge off of his mood.
“How are your bandages? Not too wet?” he asked, face flushed, as Zhongli seemed to fluster over where to place his hands. He patted at his jacket, then rested one over his stomach.
“They may need readdressing when we return home,” he said. Thunder boomed over their heads and the wind changed direction, twisting in midair as if spun on a dial. The humidity between them was washed instantly away by a new deluge.
“Quick!” Childe gestured towards the black depths of their hiding space. “In there!” He didn’t wait for a response, just grabbed Zhongli’s shoulder and pushed him further inside, out of the pouring rain.
They could still hear the rain pounding against the rock outside. The long, low drum roll was punctuated by the boom of bassy thunder, but as they moved further into the cliff face those sounds blurred until they faded away to silence. Their footsteps padded against the dirt as the light grew dim and the rocks snapped up the sky. Childe’s foot hit something hard. A flagstone, carved by human hands, lay buried in the dirt. There were more ahead. As they followed the path through the darkness the granite walls became smooth, carved panels that had been ruined by aeons of wear. For a moment the two men seemed like two children - one leading the charge, pulling the other along as he sniffed out adventure. Then, once they had been completely consumed in darkness, the space opened up.
Lit by only a single lit brazier, Childe could see a flight of jagged steps ahead of them that lead down into an open arena. The dome of the ceiling loomed overhead, picked out of the near-pitch darkness by unknown gems that twinkled like stars. He went first, but not before glancing over his shoulder and offering his hand to Zhongli. The injured man took it, and Childe helped him down the steps like a gentleman helping a lady out of a carriage.
“What is this? Do you know?” he asked. Zhongli looked around, his yellow eyes glowing in the dark. Circling the arena were a series of stone pillars, all carved with ancient patterns and strange glyphs. The walls were decorated with scenes of war that Teyvat natives had grown up learning to ignore.
“Khaenri’ahn ruins,” he replied, but the trail of his statement showed that he wasn’t done trying to understand his answer. Childe’s feet touched the wide space at the bottom of the stairs, but he felt Zhongli’s hand stiffen. Wait,” he said. His face was raised to the back wall, his eyes twitching over what few details there were between the stone pillars. “Childe,” he said suddenly, “We need to leave. Now.“
The earth rumbled beneath their feet. The walls unfolded, chunks breaking loose as armoured limbs furled out from behind them. Those scenes of war became armoured plating for six Ruin Hunters as they hatched jerkily from the rock, pulling pillar and stone with them as they forced their way from the ancient, extinct mechanisms. Childe rooted himself to the spot, staring up at them as Zhongli tried to urge them backwards.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, almost dreamily. “Scared of a little challenge?”
“Do not tempt fate!”
Childe glanced over his shoulder at his friend, his eyes alight with viciousness. “I never do.”
The back wall shook. There was one thump, then a second. Silence. Stone burst towards them in a shower of dust and debris, and as one slab of solid rock wheeled towards their heads, Childe threw himself into Zhongli and pushed them both to the floor. A grunt of pain escaped the other man’s chest as every stich pulled. A Ruin Hunter larger than any Childe had ever seen before lurched for them.
A flaming lance came screaming for them. It dove from the darkness like a comet from the night sky. Both of them leapt to get away, Childe springing to the right, Zhongli pouncing left. It was the signal the rest of the Hunters needed. The sound of whirring gears filled the air, as loud and deadly as a nest of hornets.
“Zhongli!” Childe whipped around as Zhongli kicked off of the floor and sprinted around the perimeter of the arena. Already a thin streak of red was leaking through his shirt - just about visible between the lapels of his jacket. Ruin Hunter spears hit the ground in a string of explosions behind him, chasing his golden heels as he ran. A second Ruin Hunter flew in from the side, cutting off his escape. Sliding to a stop, he flicked out his arms and conjoured his shield just as the oncoming lance made impact. He flew like a ragdoll through the air, tumbling along the ground but managing to roll to one knee.
Three Hunters turned on Childe and blocked his view. They rose up around him, three burning, cyclopean eyes floating into the creeping darkness. He pulled his swords from his belt and backed away. Fear and private, maddening glee fought each other in his chest, lifting him to a mania that appeared in his eyes - their only spark of light. Their lances drew back, sharp points aimed at his eyes and heart. He raised his head in delight.
The lunged for him. He leapt into the air and scrambled up the arms of one as the sharp point of its spear glanced off of stone. Smashing one blade into one eye, sending it reeling backwards, he leapt to another. Like a rat mauling three wolves, he savaged them, ripping into what some called ‘faces’ with each slash of his weapon. He dodged their strikes, his body twisting in midair, dancing through their limbs, moving as if pre-programmed for victory.
“Childe!”
He looked over. Zhongli was on his feet, his arms blocking his face as his shield sparked and cracked white light. The fleet of Hunters on him were diving from every angle, every hit forcing him a step in one direction, then a step in another. His teeth gritted, his shoulders bent, it was taking everything he had to keep his defenses in place. A black-red stain coming through his waist glittered in the dim light.
“I’m coming!” Childe cried.
Zhongli’s shield shattered apart. His body flew across the chamber and rolled to a stop at the bottom of the back wall, surrounded by broken rocks and fallen chunks of ceiling. He pushed himself up on his arms, glaring up at the Hunters through messy bangs, his face so smeared in his own blood that only his eyes were visible in the darkness.
Childe dove for him. He landed in front of his prone body, his blades crossed, and heaved the first incoming blow back. The rest rose back into the air, drawing away like the sea before the onslaught of a tsunami.
“Oh yeah?!” Childe panted, thrilled, as his feet planted either side of his friend. “Come on then!”
The air inflated with a pressure so intense that Zhongli’s ears popped. The soft flesh inside of his mouth hurt as the static in the air built up into a dense and stinging cloud around them. Childe’s feet left the floor and electricity arced over his body. His limbs shook, a shout of pain and exhuberance jolted from his chest. The room swirled and Zhongli braced himself against the grit that whipped through the air.
A translucent cape the colour of the night sky fell around him. He looked up. Childe’s transformed body brandished its weapon and stared down the seven Hunters with no expression, and yet a sense of glee. A distorted laugh rocked the air.
“You’ve made it personal now!”