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He had gone overboard.
“Fight me! Prove to me that you’re stronger than you look! What a truly pathetic view, Liyue’s God had fallen out of grace.”
He was a patient man. He had no impatience when it comes to others — he was willing to wait. Though he did notice that people sometimes take advantage of it, he still managed to stand there and listen to everything everyone would have to say about him.
He’s poised, well-mannered, witty, and naive. Naive of the fact that ever since he dwelt amongst his people, he had just realized that he has no… experience with living in mortal life.
That was until he met Childe. Despite being a Fatui — a Harbinger, no less — the ginger stuck to his side like a dog, following its owner around with a wagging tail. In the aftermath events of the incident, Tartaglia had grown distant from him. Was it the shame that he wasn’t able to draw him out, or was it because he no longer wishes to communicate with him, seeing as his mission given was already done?
Though, before he even met the Traveler, he had gotten to know Tartaglia a bit. Surprisingly, he opened up to Zhongli. He had taught him how to enjoy humanity, give out small chuckles at some of his antics (he found Childe’s chopsticks feud quite funny, yet disrespectful at the same time), and practically just to have fun.
He taught him how to be human.
He taught him how to become a proper mortal, not some Celestial Being praised by its people.
Most importantly, he taught him how to love — and probably make it discreet as well.
Yet, they stand at the center of Quili Plains, resolving their problem with each other. It pained Zhongli to see Childe use his delusion, even after already telling him to not use it so many times, for it’ll only drain his energy.
If he was truly a patient man, then why would he feel something deep rumbling within him, something that’s about to burst.
The land quaked with every attack Zhongli had sent to Childe. The male only cackled out loud as he got closer to Zhongli and tried to hit him with his electro blade, but was quickly dodged as the former Archon ducked before sprinting behind Tartaglia.
“Please, calm down. We don’t have to fight over something so simple. The topic’s easier to just talk it all out, Childe—“ Zhongli spoke in a hushed tone before he cut himself off with the patter of rain falling from the sky. He didn’t know what transpired in this fight, but he was getting sick of it. He growing more and more impatient. He had done everything to calm the male down, but why won’t he listen?!
It all started this morning. Zhongli was so sick and tired of Tartaglia ignoring him. Calling his name, the Harbinger wouldn’t respond. Tapping his shoulder, still no response. He did those antics for the past few days not until he stopped, the sense kicking in that Childe no longer needed to associate himself with the ex-Geo Archon.
It was as if he was copying his people, acting as if Rex Lapis was truly dead.
Saddened by this, he dismissed the matter as he only focused on his work. That was, until today when the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s door busted open, and Zhongli jumped a bit on his seat. He surely hadn’t expected that. Before he could even lift his head up, Childe dragged him out of his workplace and now stood where they were.
Tartaglia had been entirely pissed after the events of Liyue. To have been fooled like that? He couldn’t take the embarrassment any longer and wished to spar with Zhongli.
The male kept on denying the match, wanting to resolve this over tea. It seems like this enraged the ginger more.
“A battle’s the best way to settle things! You just won’t accept the match because — haha, admit it, Morax, you’ve gotten weak!”
“I know what’s best for you, and I don’t want you getting hurt over this useless subject!” Zhongli cried out, his voice raising as his patience was thinning, like a bomb about to explode. They fought under the rain, but that doesn’t mean that it still wasn’t his domain. It still doesn’t mean that Childe’s far more superior than him.
“Getting hurt is one of the most exciting thrills in a battle match, you — out of all people — should know that! You fought in the Archon War, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to go such lengths when you’re embarrassed about everything that had happened,” Zhongli frowned as he dodged Childe’s electro power.
“You’re really weak, a pathetic God. You’re even weaker than Barbatos himself if you gave in like this in battle. No wonder you’re only a fortune teller to the people of Liyue every year! Well, guess what, Morax? The people of Liyue don’t care for their beloved Archon! It was all an act they put, look at how fast they moved on from you! Maybe it’s because you’re fucking weak as hell!”
“That’s enough!” Zhongli yelled out, plunging his spear into something. “I am no longer a reigning Archon, and the people of Liyue aren’t like that! Your point of view is repulsive, such accusations against my people! When will you ever stop making the same mistake all over again? When will you stop flipping the table over just for me to fix it all up again? When will you finally stop emitting chaos upon this land and learn that we could resolve this matter in another way? Your ways of forgiving are simply relentless, you have made me suffer for a few days already without even noticing me, not even acknowledging my presence. You’re also at fault here, you—!” He cut himself off as he heard a thud and a groan follow quickly.
His breath got caught in the middle of the wind as he finally decided to take a glance at Childe, who looked up at him wide-eyed with a gush of blood running down his mouth and his back. He was no longer in his delusion form, but…
“I didn’t… mean to,” Zhongli knelt down beside him, the crimson red washed away immediately with the rain. Tears prickled his eyes as he stared in disbelief. Tartaglia coughed, gripping the polearm that had impaled him in the chest. “Sorry…” Childe apologized, a sad smile occupying his face. Droplets of rain may have painted his face, but Zhongli could decipher which ones were the tears Tartaglia was shedding at the moment.
“No, no, don’t— don’t apologize, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what overcame me, I didn’t mean for this to happen, please stay by me, Childe— Please-“ Zhongli’s voice cracked out of despair as he held the other close to him. It was so… out of character for him to feel this way.
His heart ached as he saw Childe’s breath hitched.
He didn’t mean to— he-
“I’m sorry for— for not taking… your advice.”
He let out a weak laugh. He can’t even laugh properly with his air passage deeply damaged. “Childe— I’ll get all of the help you need, just please stay with me, a little longer. I’m so sorry for my outburst, please.”
“I can’t…” Tartaglia croaked, wincing in pain as he sobbed. “You know t-that it’s only a matter of time… that…” He sobbed, weakly raising his hand up to Zhongli’s face and trying to smile for him, but ended up making a choked sob.
“Don’t leave me please, I’m sorry,” Zhongli held him closer, fearing that he’d lose another important person in his life. “I love you, I didn’t mean to hurt you like this, I—I didn’t mean to go overboard and lose my temper. I love you so much, please, Childe. Stay awake a little longer, please.” He begged through hiccups and sobs, getting mild flashbacks from what had happened with his previous close friend, Guizhong.
“Adorable… you’re really adorable…” Tartaglia was feeling a bit woozy, and tired. “But, promise me... one thing. Please,” he paused for a moment, preparing to accept death. At least he had died in Zhongli’s hands. A worthy opponent, indeed, but… it was sad. This was sad. He never even got… to really say what was on his mind.
With a final weak smile and an obvious hint of forgiveness, he used his final breath to mutter out words that might carve their way onto Zhongli’s heart for a long time.
“Let me go.”
A tremendous earthquake that was reported to be a magnitude 6.1 had suddenly appeared throughout Liyue and its neighboring nations. Faint anguished cries were to be heard, as the citizens gossiped.
Centuries had passed, and Zhongli wasn’t even the same anymore. Still ever the same tailored clothes, but a different face.
As an Adeptus and a… former Archon, he had the will to shift into any forms he wanted to. He could’ve just stayed as the mortal Zhongli, he could’ve formed into a different animal. But no, he changed.
He changed his look.
Instead of the usual Zhongli the old Liyue used to see, it was a brand new face. Orange locks, short, and messy hair, round eyes, and a familiar fatui cape around his neck. It was ragged, slightly torn, and damaged from the polearm that day. The blood was still there, despite him delicately trying to wash it for how many times already. It served as a reminder to him that he was at fault. He hated it.
He restricted himself from love, afraid of getting attached to someone again. Every time he would see himself in the mirror, all he would see is him, but at the same time… It’s not him. He destroyed every glass fragment in his flat, in despair to see those dull, yet lively aqua blue eyes of his replaced with his glowing auburn eyes. He hated it.
Every time he would speak, he would sound the same as him. He honestly thought it didn’t suit him well to have a deep voice in that form, so he copied Childe’s voice and tone from a distant memory he held. He hated it.
He was a different person and he hated it. He was in pain and agony from his beloved’s departure. It pained to see him copy the male every day but slowly forget their memories together. He slowly started to forget the deceased Harbinger’s personality. No matter how much he smiled to himself, he can never copy Childe’s genuine smile. He hated it.
He still cries, and wails for Childe to come back up until this day. He prayed to Celestia above to give his beloved back, just as how he begged for his close friend, Guizhong, to come back. He was pathetic, but who could blame him? He never got to express his true feelings to Childe. The only thing that he told him was a simple I love you, and he thinks that Tartaglia mistook his confession as nothing more but platonic. He hated it.
So much for loving someone. Was this his punishment for giving up the gnosis?
He truly had changed.
“I’m sorry, Childe. I'm sorry for not fulfilling your promise. I'm sorry that I never got to let you go.”
A small Qingxin flower had sprouted beautifully on the same spot where the Harbinger died.