Archive of Our Own

Childe was no stranger to traveling.

Of course he wasn’t. His work meant he was to be a tool for the Tsaritsa, being sent every which way to ensure all her wishes were fulfilled. He grew used to the unfamiliar sights, novel experiences, the exciting things to learn about, the culture to immerse in, the souvenirs to hunt for his siblings, the new enemies to fight.

Liyue had been strangely familiar.

As a Hydro user, going places by boat had always been a nice experience. The seas surrounding a nation would always welcome him before anything else, and he could always tell how the nation was by how the sea greeted him. Inazuma was wary, nipping at him warningly, but warmed to him quickly enough that it became almost endearing. Mondstadt was scattered and playful, greeting him excitedly and leaving him for his devices, but always ready to come to his aid if needed. Sumeru was watchful, amicable but careful, an undercurrent of whispered I’m watching you seeping quietly through the calm waves.

Liyue was shining and almost ecstatic, lapping at him as if welcoming him home. Snezhnayan seas smiled and brushed against him in a fond but detached sort of way. Liyuean waters practically jumped at him and hugged him close, almost reminding him of Teucer when he visited home from his long missions.

It was a bit odd, but Childe decided he liked it. It surprised him that Liyue Harbor wasn’t like the seas. It was warm enough, welcoming enough, but there was something about the calculating looks and carefulness most everyone gave him that was absent in the seas. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised. It was, after all, a hub for merchants.

Still, it was strangely endearing to stand at the wharf, bending down to feel the seawater in his fingers, and feeling it envelop his hand. It tugged at something inside of him, and it felt like his mind opened, a little, to Liyue’s seas and its centuries-old longing.

Welcome home.

Colors were rare in Childe’s dreams.

It was to be expected. Snezhnaya was a nation of ice and snow, with perpetual clouds hanging in the sky ready to sprinkle fresh snowflakes – or hail, if Her Majesty was particularly irked with something. White and a distinct freezing Cryo blue enveloped the land, and it seeped into Childe’s consciousness and dominated his dreams.

Then he fell into the Abyss, and his dreams turned into Abyssal dark that refused to dissipate.

But here, in Liyue, colors seeped into the edges of his vision. Slowly it permeated the white snow and black Abyssal taint, overpowering it with calming ocean blue and striking, warm gold.

And red. Deep, blood red, splattering against stone and staining metal with rust, accompanied by agonizing screams that echoed in his skull.

Childe had killed before. He had maimed and sullied his hands in the name of the Tsaritsa.

He had no idea why the red and the screams from his dreams rattled him so much.

There was something strangely nostalgic about Liyue that Childe couldn’t put his finger on. Retreating into the quiet of his office in the Northland Bank, he traced the red and gold on the walls and wondered what it was.

Later, he would make his way downtown to find something to eat, politely nodding at the townsfolk, watching the shining lights of food vendors drown the twinkling of the stars. He slid to a table in Wanmin Restaurant and asked for something light and easy for his stomach – he wasn’t looking for a feast today – and welcomed the chef to surprise him with their selection.

The head chef, Xiangling – and wasn’t it a pleasant surprise, to find that the head chef wasn’t the fatherly man at front but this cheerful girl just slightly older than Tonia? – came to him bearing Black-Back Perch Stew and a bowl of steaming rice as well as a glass of water, giving him a pair of chopsticks and a ceramic spoon. “I’ll bring you the dessert later. Holler when you’re done!” she said, her eyes bright. “Tell me how the food is, okay? I’m always looking for ways to be a better cook.”

Childe decided right then and there that he liked this girl. “Of course! I’m not familiar with Liyue’s cuisine but I can tell this is going to be good.”

Xiangling laughed. “Try it first! And remember, compliments won’t give you a discount.”

Childe snorted as she went back to the kitchen, her pet – a bear? A panda? A weird dog? – trailing behind her. He wondered if she knew he was the highest ranking Fatui in town and that money was literally the least of his problems. He took the spoon, knowing that he was hungry and uninterested in learning to use a new eating utensil when the enticing smell of food made him all the more aware of his hunger pangs. He took a piece of fish, making sure the sauce coated it well, before bringing it into his mouth.

Spices exploded on his tongue, hot and numbing. The angry red of the sauce had led him to believe that this would be fiery-spicy, but it was milder than he thought it would be. The softness of the fish melted into his mouth, juicy and fresh, complimenting the spices well. He dug in, eager for more, and was pleasantly surprised to find bean sprouts and mushrooms hiding underneath. The tingling spices spread pleasant numbness across his tongue and he found himself eager for more.

Xiangling came back with mint jelly just before he was done eating. “Here’s your dessert,” she said, setting it on the table. “How’s the food?”

Childe licked his lips, smiling at the stray pieces of fish and vegetables in the bowl. “Incredibly good,” he said. “I think you can go a bit hotter, actually.”

“Oh!” Xiangling sounded giddily surprised. “I made it a bit less spicy than usual because foreigners don’t usually handle the spices well. I’ll make it spicier next time!”

Childe hummed, pulling the remainder of the fish to him and finishing the dish. It tasted like comfort and warmth.

Oh.

“If you’re done, I can take the empty bowls with me. May I – Mister? Mister, are you okay?”

“Huh?” Childe blinked, looking up to meet Xiangling’s gaze. He wondered why his sight was blurry.

“Is something wrong? You’re crying,” Xiangling pointed out in worry.

“Ah.” He wiped his tears away and forced a laugh. “It’s alright, nothing’s wrong! I guess I’m just a bit more tired than I thought. And your food’s really good, I guess it moved me to tears, ahaha!”

He spent the rest of the stay reassuring Xiangling that he was okay. He paid with more mora than necessary, telling both Xiangling and his father to keep it just in case he needed a quick bite and forgot his mora pouch at his apartment. All the while, his mind kept remembering the taste of the dish Xiangling prepared for him.

It tasted like comfort and warmth.

It tasted like home.

He met Zhongli during one of his semi-regular visits to Wanmin Restaurant. It was peak hour, and it felt like half the wharf had spilled into the restaurant for dinner, with how packed it was with customers. Childe was lucky to have gotten a seat, but he could feel others eyeing him with envy.

“Excuse me, Mister Childe?” Xiangling called, and Childe looked up from his Jewelry Soup. “I know you’re already eating, but all the tables are full and there’s a regular who’s willing to be seated with someone else. Is it alright if he sits with you?”

Childe blinked. Xiangling had learned that he was a harbinger, but that didn’t seem to deter her at all. Anyone else would have thought twice about seating a random man with a harbinger. “Sure, I don’t mind,” he said instead.

Soon, Xiangling led a strikingly tall man to the table. He was clearly a well-off man, well-dressed and well-mannered, his moves confident and sure. The dark coat he wore made him look even taller. The long hair, tied into a low ponytail, completed the image of a perfect Liyuean gentleman, and he was easy on the eyes, as well.

But his eyes.

Childe found himself frozen in place, staring deep into the man’s striking, warm golden eyes, as beautiful as the most precious Cor Lapis. Xiangling’s voice brought him back to the present as the man sat across him, introducing him as Zhongli, a consultant for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Dimly, Childe wondered why a funeral parlor would need a consultant, but he swallowed the question away. Soon, he lured Zhongli into small talks and was immediately swept away by all the knowledge Zhongli offered, citing history and myths as easily as breathing.

And something about him felt strangely nostalgic.

It was an easy decision to pay for Zhongli’s meal when he revealed that he forgot his mora at home, and an even easier decision to stick by his side.

His dreams grew more vivid the longer he stayed in Liyue. He was no stranger to dreams of bloodshed, but it was odd that he had begun to dream about the Adepti.

Still, it wasn’t so bad. If nothing else, the dream of green plains spent with a man with striking, warm golden eyes was a pleasant one, moreso when they were joined by others. The man with the golden eyes would level a smile at him, warm and inviting, and he would smile back.

Childe would wake up with a heartache he couldn’t explain.

Guili Plains was pretty.

Childe walked calmly, feeling the grass tickling the fabric of his pants. He took in a deep breath, taking in the familiar smell of earth and vegetation, listening to the birds chirp. He could almost imagine a thriving village here, bustling with life and laughter, but all he could see was grass, trees, and the ruins in the middle of the plain.

Though, it felt incomplete. He frowned as he scanned around, eyes searching.

“What’s wrong, Childe?” Zhongli, who accompanied him on this trip, asked.

“No, it’s just… I thought there would be more flowers around here,” he admitted.

Zhongli tilted his head in question. “If you mean sweet flowers and mint, there are plenty. Qingxin does not grow here since it’s not high enough for the flower to thrive.”

“Ah – no, I didn’t mean those. I forget, what’s the name… um, blue? Guizhong loves them.” He paused, wondering who Guizhong even was.

“The goddess of dust?” Zhongli asked. “Yes, various accounts noted that she loved a certain blue flower. I believe you were wondering about glaze lilies.”

“Yes, that!”

Zhongli hummed. “In the past, it is believed that glaze lilies used to grow in abundance here. However, the Archon War resulted in a change of the land’s geography. A flood came in. They can no longer grow here.” He glanced at Childe. “If you were looking for glaze lilies, there are some planted in Liyue Harbor. You can find them around Yujing Terrace. You may also find them in Qingce Village.”

Childe nodded absently, already imagining how the flowers smelled. Belatedly, he wondered if he’d even touched one before. “Maybe I’ll go see them the next time I visited Yujing Terrace. They bloom at night, right?”

“Or when you sing to them, yes,” Zhongli agreed.

Childe hummed absently. Fragments of melodies flitted in his mind, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to slot them back to place, to string a complete song out of shards that slipped through the cracks of his fingers whenever he thought he had gotten near enough to catch it. He hummed what he could make out under his breath all the same.

Zhongli watched him with unreadable gaze all the while.

The man with the golden eyes smiled at him, sweet, and his heart felt heavy with contentment that he felt like he could burst.

The man with the golden eyes glared at him, vicious and cruel, spear slashing through the air as he dodged pillars of rocks.

Childe woke up with a start, feeling the details of the dream escape though his fingers like smoke, and wondered why it hurt.

Childe pointed at the faraway cluster of islands. “I’ve never heard anyone talk about that place. What’s that one again?”

Zhongli stepped to his side. “Guyun Stone Forest,” he began. “It serves as a graveyard for the enemies Rex Lapis felled during the war. The pillars are formed by the spears he threw. Underneath is where he sealed Osial, Overlord of the Vortex.”

Something stirred at the back of Childe’s mind. He ignored it. “I thought all other gods are dead. Osial’s just sealed?”

“No one knows for sure, considering how long it’s been,” Zhongli answered. “Rex Lapis’ seal is strong. It will require much power and a special sigil to break it. But when Osial was sealed, it is said that he was on his last leg.”

“So probably dead,” Childe concluded.

Zhongli smiled, grim and sad. “Oh, but it doesn’t mean that the body doesn’t hold power.” At Childe’s questioning gaze, he shrugged. “Gods are powerful beings, and Osial died vengeful. Even today travelers who stay the night at Guyun Stone Forest would dream of Osial’s last moments. No one knows for sure if he is alive and wishing for others to know his pain, or if he’s dead and his grudge is just too strong for the seal to contain.” He shook his head. “In any case, Osial is powerful whether he is dead or not. Perhaps, even if he is, the grudge is strong enough that he would still rise above the sea and drown Liyue Harbor.”

Perhaps he would, Childe thought. Perhaps I would.

He took a deep breath to stave off a growing headache and smiled and Zhongli, pretending to be okay. “That’s an interesting take on a dead god. I was curious though, you said a sigil? It must be a pretty weak seal if a sigil is enough to break it.”

Zhongli huffed, looking hilariously affronted. “It’s not weak.”

“But a sigil! Anyone can get their hands on those.”

It sparked Zhongli to start lecturing him on sigils. Childe settled, listened, and learned.

Childe stared at the chopsticks in his hands, at a loss. “Okay, I have to admit that I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Across of him, Zhongli snorted. “Do you need me to show you how to hold them again?”

“I’ve seen you show me countless times. I honestly don’t think that’s going to help me.”

Zhongli let out a soft chuckle. He stood and pulled his chair closer to Childe’s, then slowly, gently, his hands wrapped around his fingers and maneuvered them around the chopsticks, explaining how to move them. When he was done, Childe was holding the chopsticks stiffly, but at least he held them properly.

Zhongli gestured to the Matsutake Meat Rolls in front of them. “Go on, try.”

Determined, Childe picked a roll and brought it closer to his mouth. It slipped at the last second, falling into his plate. He stared at it forlornly while Zhongli coughed to hide his laugh.

“My plate looks like a murder scene,” Childe said sadly.

“It does not. You’re still practicing, it’s okay.” Zhongli took a Jade Parcel and fed it to Childe, and the taste rejuvenated his spirits, a bit. “Try picking it up again. Go on, I’ll be here to help you. Liyue’s cuisine is best eaten with chopsticks.”

“I was doing fine with the spoon,” Childe did not whine, though he gallantly attempted to pick up the fallen roll again.

“And you limited yourself to soups and stews, did you not?”

Childe decided concentrating on his roll was much more important than glaring at Zhongli.

The golden eyed man watched him struggle with a serene smile on his lips. “I suppose having only used your hands to eat for such a long time doesn’t help much with dexterity. Spoons, forks, and knives are much easier than chopsticks, I suppose.”

“Of course they’re easier. Gods, this is why finger foods are better,” Childe grumbled. Years of eating with his bare hands flitted in his mind before he abruptly stopped, letting the roll slide back off and falling back to the plate with a splat, another murder scene upon the table. He frowned. “Wait… my mother raised me better than to eat with my bare hands.”

As if he hadn’t spoken, Zhongli plopped a Crystal Shrimp onto his plate. “Perhaps this one will be a little easier than the meat rolls. Try it?”

“At this point I’m going to spend a whole day just trying to pick up my food,” Childe grumbled, but complied with Zhongli’s request, switching to the Crystal Shrimp. He managed, somehow, though he had to dive in and stuff it into his mouth before it fell and joined its fallen friend on his plate.

“You just need more practice is all. I’m sure you were not born already knowing how to wield a weapon,” Zhongli assured. He slid a box at him. “There, open it up.”

Curious, Childe put down his chopsticks to open the box. His eyes widened at the content; a beautiful pair of chopsticks, adorned with a dragon and a phoenix.

“You can use it to practice on your free time,” Zhongli said. “I’m sure with enough practice you’ll be able to lift a boiled egg soon.”

It was only later that Childe realized he was gifted something that Zhongli bought with Childe’s money. He muffled his wheezed laughter into his knuckles and hoped Ekaterina didn’t hear.

The Sigil of Permission shimmered in his hand.

It wasn’t hard to get it. The man who somehow managed to get it into his possession had a debt to the Fatui, and it was only fair that Childe came to collect. The sigil was something that he needed, after all. And with Dottore near, it would be easy to set up a way to mass-produce the sigils while he kept ahold of the original.

Except it didn’t work the way it was supposed to.

He stared at the newly made sigils, all copied to perfection from the original, but something was missing. They needed this to free Osial. Somehow, no matter what they did, it would not budge to do what it was supposed to do.

“Either the original sigil was faulty to begin with, or this is a fool’s errand,” Dottore’s assigned segment growled at Childe.

He kept silent. He lifted a copy, frowning. There was something here that was missing. The original didn’t have it, but a proper sigil should. Perhaps an adeptus powered the original, somehow, and that was why it worked well even without it being complete. Theirs, mass-produced as they were, couldn’t work the same way.

Almost unaware of his own movements, he took a brush, dipped it into ink, and completed the new sigil. He waited until the ink dried and activated it with a thought.

The new sigil shone bright, active and strong. It was even better than the original, he thought, brighter and bolder and specific, meant to release Osial and no one else.

Dottore’s segment grinned at him, hungry and pleased and absolutely disturbing. “Perfect,” he purred. “Let us start making this one, then.” He turned, the new successful sigil in his hand, but stopped. “How did you know you were supposed to add that symbol?”

I just do, Childe thought, at the same time as another voice in his mind said, I don’t know. He simply shrugged and let a bland smile overtake his lips. “I suppose I’ve learned a lot, being around native Liyueans.”

Dottore hummed and went back to his work. Childe silently heaved a sigh of relief for not being questioned more about this.

Guyun Stone Forest had been occupying his mind since the moment he asked Zhongli about it. Something in it called to Childe, beckoning and wistful, and the longer he clamped on the desire to go, the stronger it became.

He caved in.

He informed Ekaterina of his departure, claiming that he needed to survey the place for plans of luring Morax out – which, to be fair, wasn’t a lie. He had also sent a few agents to scout the place, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he got there and saw with his own eyes.

As his feet landed on the wet sands of the beach, his knees nearly buckled from the onslaught of grief, anger, and sheer desire to be free. He managed to catch himself before face-planting on the shore, grateful that his men stayed behind at the boat. He had instructed them to go back to the harbor and do their usual duties and to come back for him in two days’ time.

He didn’t know why, for sure, but he wanted to spend as much time here as he could spare. Two days seemed like a reasonable enough window.

He roamed the islands, cutting through slimes and hilichurls to pass the time. Aside from them and the geo hypostasis nestled at some far-off corner of the cluster, the place really was peaceful. He decided to fight the hypostasis just for the heck of it and was pleasantly surprised at how tenacious it could be. The pillars were annoying, but he wasn’t a master of weapons for nothing. A few hacks with Hydro-constructed claymore he conjured got him through.

He had no idea what he could do with the basalt pillars and Prithiva Topazes he got, but hey, Zhongli’s a Geo user. He would probably appreciate the gift.

But even the fight wasn’t enough to take his mind off the gnawing want in his gut that clawed his insides from the moment he set foot on the islands. It would have been unsettling if he wasn’t also desperate to find what caused it and released it into the wild.

He reached the biggest island of the bunch, with the tallest rock pillars that jutted to the air. After a short walk, he found the entrance to a domain, a Ley Line Monolith standing just in front of it. He had no intention of entering the domain, but the monolith…

Wanting to take his mind off the feeling and the frustration that he hadn’t found anything that might have called to him, he recklessly activated the monolith. Soon, a vishap appeared, lured by the monolith’s call. A smile took over his lips, and Childe didn’t need to look at a mirror to know that it looked feral.

Quickly, he summoned his bow and shot a charged arrow, immediately marking the vishap with his Riptide Mark. The vishap roared as though indignant and jumped at him. With a thought, he dismissed the bow and conjured his dual blades to parry.

It was easy to switch between his Vision and Delusion, making sure the vishap was wet enough to electrocute efficiently. He cycled through weapons, summoning his bow when he felt he needed distance and using his dual blades and double-headed spear to cut in and get close. At points, he switched to claymore for heavier hits and a dagger to stab, leaving it behind and letting it lose its shape and dissolve as the vishap howled in pain.

The battle was fun. Blood pumping. Exhilarating. He barely held back the grin in his face, gazing into the vishap’s eyes and jumping back in. He conjured a spear in his hands, eager to try the moves he’d seen Morax use.

Three prongs manifested instead of one tip, wickedly sharp and solid despite being made of pure Hydro energy. He wielded it surely, calling to the depths of his powers and feeling the waves from the sea nearby respond to his call. With an expectant grin, he kicked the trident, watching it spin and sail and sink its prongs into the Vishap’s side. He let the trident dissolve and conjure a new one in his hands and rushed in to deal more damage.

All too soon, the battle ended. The vishap fell with a big thump, blood oozing into the cracks of stones, eyes empty, jaws opened, tongue lolling out limply. He laughed, boisterous and bold. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, tidal waves of excitement and satisfaction. He bounced on his heels, gripping the trident and twirling it in his hands, eager for more.

Osial turned to face Morax, a request at the tip of his tongue, giddy with battle lust. “Fight me, Mo – “

Who?

Childe blinked, feeling untethered and lost all of a sudden. The hydro trident clanged to the ground as he lost his footing, falling unceremoniously to his butt, blank eyes gazing at the shores below. He took the trident into his hands with trembling fingers, frowning at how his vision blurred and tilted. There was a pounding headache thumping mercilessly at the back of his head, pulsing discordantly with his heartbeat. A hand lifted and buried itself into his scalp, clutching strands of hair.

Scenes flashed before his eyes. Of a goddess, laughing in a meadow. Of a god, smiling warmly. Of deities slain in battle. Of blood staining his fingers. Of a god, attacking. Of mortals, fleeing. Of a god with striking golden eyes, no longer warm.

Of a god with striking golden eyes, burying him in a tomb of seal and stones.

They all swirled into one, a big jumbled mess that he had no way to make sense of. His gaze locked onto the trident. Somehow, being conjured out of pure Hydro energy and threatening to dissolve if he wavered, the trident was the realest, most solid thing he could touch. He could only hope that it was enough to anchor him to the present, to Tartaglia, to Childe, to Ajax.

“Childe?”

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there staring at the Hydro trident, but the soft, deep voice was enough to pull him closer to the surface, enough to let him breathe and stay afloat of the scenes in his mind that made it hard to see the shores below. Slowly, he lifted his head, blinking dazedly at the tall man standing before him.

“Morax,” he whispered.

The man stilled, then carefully lowered himself to kneel in front of him. There was something in his striking golden eyes. Perhaps concern. He wasn’t sure he could call it contempt.

“Who are you, right now?” the man with golden eyes asked. “Are you Childe, or are you Osial?”

The names stirred something in him, warring fiercely. He frowned, feeling the headache that had dulled roar back into life. In his hands, the Hydro trident finally dissolved.

The man with golden eyes sighed. With careful, gentle hand, he reached to his eyes, gently closing them and covering them with his fingers while an arm curled around his shoulders, pulling him into an embrace. He allowed the manhandling, sinking into comfortable warmth. It felt real. It felt removed from the warring flashes that refused to leave him be.

“You were gone for days,” the man murmured. “Your agents came here to bring you back, but you responded badly to being brought back. Miss Ekaterina is besides herself with worry. She asked me to get you and bring you back to Liyue. From what I can see, you have some minor injuries from battle and dehydration. Let me carry you back to the ship and we’ll get you to Bubu Pharmacy. You need medical attention.”

He hummed, more to make some noise to respond. When the man lifted him up in strong, reliable, traitorous arms, he allowed himself to sink into the dark and lose himself in confusing torrents of dreams.

Childe couldn’t remember what he was doing in Guyun Stone Forest, once he woke up being stared at by Qiqi and nursed back to health. He had half a mind to go there again, just to find out what happened there, but Ekaterina glared and threatened to tie him up to his desk.

He might be the Eleventh Harbinger, but he wasn’t nearly insane enough to go against Ekaterina’s orders. In all technicalities he was her boss, but he knew better than to draw her ire. The emotional toll would be on par with drawing Tonia’s ire.

Zhongli brought him to various ruins to keep him engaged, pointing out the odd hilichurls encampments, slimes, Treasure Hoarders, and Ruin Guards, Hunters, and Graders for him to fight. Childe would laugh every time, diving in with bubbling excitement that Zhongli would smile at.

The man stared at Childe’s chosen weapon of the day, tilting his head at the trident. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use that one before,” he mused.

Childe lifted the Hydro-made trident and twirled it in his hands. “I feel like using this today. I don’t know, it just feels natural.” He grinned. “Do you like it?”

Zhongli’s gaze was unreadable. “It… suits you. I suppose I’m simply wondering why you’re not using the bow more.”

Childe hummed. “That’s true, I do need to practice more with it. Can’t master the bow if I don’t practice, after all.” He stared at the trident and shrugged, letting it dissolve away. “I’ll switch around. Now, where did you say the Ruin Hunter was? That one will get the full bow treatment.”

Zhongli’s unreadable gaze followed him as he rushed into battle. He ignored it in lieu of immersing himself in the haze of battle lust, feeling more alive than he had ever before.

He turned, a name at the tip of his tongue, ready to ask his friends to join him, and –

The names dissipated like cotton candy in water, but Zhongli was there with eyes of striking, warm gold.

Childe wasn’t sure why it felt like it was right to stand side by side with him, charging into fights with his shield keeping him safe.

Fighting lit up his spirit from the inside out. It made him feel alive, light and bright, powerful and unstoppable. There was nothing in the world that would be able to drag him down.

But the battle had dragged on for too long. There was no more excitement to be found, only fatigue and overwhelming desire for it all to be over.

Why bother? So many of his comrades had fallen. Guizhong had fallen. The one who made sure they were all well, the one who made Morax’s stone-like façade crack, the one who made each one of them happy. The heart of gold in the midst of muscles who could not stop fighting.

Guizhong was worth so much more than his life, than Morax’s life. Guizhong was worth more than him and Morax combined, simply because she cared. If it wasn’t for her, they would never have started to care for the mortals. She was the one who sparked life and joy into their monotones of fighting and strategizing, and she was gone, and it all felt futile. Heedless of his actions, uncaring of the fact that Morax lost her the same as him, he sank and let himself mourn the only way he knew how.

Grief overwhelmed him, transformed the calm seas into a naval hurricane. Waves rose, mortals fled, and he was alone in the eye of the vortex, lashing out to the world before it could inflict more hurt to him.

Morax struck.

Childe woke up.

The traveler appeared at the Rite of Descension, and Childe found himself helping her before he could think better of it. But it wasn’t the worst decision he could have made. Lumine proved herself capable of incredible feats, and despite the sheer annoyance of having his agents be punching bags for a single combatant he found that letting her do the heavy lifting while he followed her moves was much more effective than running around like a headless chicken.

Finding the Exuvia was so much easier with her running about leaving clues for him to discover. And the fight they had at the Golden House was honestly one of the best fights he’d ever had. But the gnosis wasn’t there, which meant Rex Lapis wasn’t really dead, which meant he had to do something drastic.

Last resort, then.

He left Golden House in a rush of Hydro and Electro, summoning the last dregs of his powers to get himself to Guyun Stone Forest. The sigils shone bright, resonating with the seal it was meant to break. When he stepped foot on the shore, the overwhelming feeling that made him light-headed and weak wasn’t anguish, but anticipation.

The sigils tugged him to where the seal was. Even without the sigils’ guidance, he already knew where he needed to go.

Shielded by his Hydro Vision, he sank into the bottom of the depths, letting the glow of the sigils to light his way. The seal shimmered and broke apart as the sigils enveloped it, and with it, Osial was free.

The torrent of water swept through Childe with the force of a tidal wave. Osial rose from the depths, but it was empty, empty, empty, powered by nothing but centuries-old grudge and grief, and Childe –

– and Osial –

– remembered.

When he woke up, he was at the edge of a cliff, one arm dangling dangerously. He groaned and blinked, somehow connecting that he was in the Sea of Clouds, at the cliff overlooking both Guyun Stone Forest and Liyue Harbor, west of Guyun.

His head was a mess.

Memories smashed against each other in a jumble, lifetimes merging until he could no longer tell where one ended and the other started. Morax morphed into Zhongli into his father into the Tsaritsa into Guizhong, too many faces to keep track of, too many instances and moments to put into a coherent timeline. Nausea hit him with the force of a Mitachurl’s shield. He bent over the edge and heaved.

He watched as the furious hydra rose from the depths, attacking with mindless force. There was nothing driving it forward but deep-seated grudge that ran deeper than the bottom of the ocean. Now that he remembered everything, jumbled as it was, he understood why.

Despite being removed, he could feel each hit the hydra received, rocking his body in a dull, detached sort of way, but painful all the same. The Tianquan’s Geo attack made him grimace, the onslaught of the ballista’s explosion rocked him to his core. He bent over and threw up again, small, mortal body not meant to withstand the damage the body of a god was capable of receiving.

He nearly blacked out when the Jade Chamber fell on him.

The hydra sank back into the sea, godly body far too damaged to move even with the grief coursing through it. Osial was, in all intents and purposes, no more.

But he had Osial’s memories in his head, his thoughts jumping about between Osial and Childe.

He pulled the mantle of Tartaglia over the confusion and stood, a strong and steady Eleventh Harbinger despite looking like a drowned rat pitifully trudging in the rain. He made his way back to the harbor, stepping off the cliff and gliding to the bridge. The taste of acid and bile burned at the back of his throat. He spat onto the grass and walked to the bank, eager to drown his troubles in a bottle of fire-water, pointedly ignoring how the seawater sloshed to respond to his feelings.

His plan failed, and he’d probably just made an enemy out of himself. There was no way the Millelith would let him roam free. Any and all move he made after this, trying to get Morax, would be infinitely more difficult than before.

Except he didn’t need to be sneaky anymore, did he? All he needed to do was march to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

He swallowed the hurt and got to the bank. When he opened the door, Zhongli and Signora were there.

It was only Signora’s presence and his curiosity to find out what she was doing that stopped him from lunging at Zhongli on sight. Tartaglia clamped on the shared old and new hurts Osial and Childe felt, smothered Ajax’s betrayed cries, and pulled on a sharp smile, demanding to know what was going on.

The old and new hurts, the betrayal, stung and roared into rage when he realized he had been played right from the start. Paimon kept her suspicious gaze, but Lumine glanced at him, eyes unreadable, when she realized it the same time as him. The sheer hate in her eyes lessened, and he tried to console himself in the fact that perhaps the budding friendship they had wasn’t completely unsalvageable after all.

The bank was practically empty except for the five of them. When Signora left, four remained, and Tartaglia leveled a stare at Zhongli.

“Childe – “ Zhongli started.

He cut him off. “Was any of it real?”

Zhongli’s golden gaze bore into his. “The only lie I ever told you was one of my identity. The only reason why I did not tell you of me being Rex Lapis is because of my contract with your archon. Absolutely nothing else have been a lie. This, I swear to you.”

“You did not lie. You befriended me because you wanted to.”

“Yes. Keeping an eye on the harbinger is a good excuse at first, but I did enjoy your companion.”

He wasn’t sure who spoke next. “It didn’t feel that way when you sealed me away, Morax.”

Paimon let out a confused noise. Lumine hushed her softly and made some excuse about needing to do something, then left.

Zhongli – Morax? – tilted his head at him. “Who is talking to me?” he asked. “Are you Childe, or are you Osial?”

His head throbbed. He closed his eyes and swallowed a groan. He didn’t know the answer to that question. Instead, he asked, “Why did you seal me away?”

“You were lashing out. No matter what I did to call you out of your state, I could not bring you back.” Zhongli sighed. “You would have drowned the entirety of Liyue. I had thought to release you, once your grief and anger has dissipated, but…” he shrugged helplessly.

“I went and got reincarnated instead. Okay.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to stave off the headache. It did little to help.

“When did you remember?” the archon asked, gently taking his hand and leading him to sit on one of the bank’s seats.

“When I broke the seal,” he admitted. “It’s hard to make sense of everything. How long have you known?”

“I’ve had my suspicion from the start,” the archon admitted. “You bear a striking resemblance to the guise Osial used to take. I only know for sure when I picked you up from Guyun Stone Forest.”

“Ah. I can’t remember what happened there.” He sighed. “You didn’t tell me, though.”

“I wasn’t sure if I should. I’ve seen some reincarnations before. Most of the time, they never gained their previous life’s memories. It would have been nonsensical to you. I imagine this has been very confusing.”

He grumbled unintelligibly. It was easier than giving an actual response.

The archon hummed. He rubbed soothing circles into his hand with his thumb. Slowly, he allowed his eyes to open. The archon’s striking golden eyes stared back at him, patient.

“I don’t know who I should be anymore,” he finally admitted. The throbbing at the back of his head held. “I can’t even tell which memories belong to Ajax and which belongs to Osial.”

“A – “ Zhongli started, then cut himself off. Belatedly, he realized he had never told him that his name was Ajax. “Then you can take the time to figure it out. I’ll be with you every step of the way, just like before.”

Grief crashed into him, old but fresh. “It will never be like before.” Spent like he was, tired after a fight and smashing open a seal, mentally spent with the onslaught of memories, and having no obvious target to direct his rage to, he couldn’t lash out the same way he did before. Instead, he scrunched his eyes close and took in a shaky breath.

Ghuizhong died so long ago. The Goddess of Dust, dead but not forgotten, whispers of her memories and accomplishments scattered throughout Liyue, clinging and persisting. But he remembered her, as if she was just here, as if her death happened only yesterday, as if it was all a fresh wound gaping open sprinkled with salt.

Zhongli’s voice was quiet. “No. I suppose not.” He squeezed his hand. “But it does not mean you have to face it alone.”

“I’ll have to, once I’m called back to Snezhnaya,” he argued. There was a pang in his heart. He missed his family, but he found himself reluctant to leave Liyue. It had grown to become a home, and regaining Osial’s memories only made him feel even more attached. It felt like being torn apart little by little, trying to plant both feet at both countries and finding they were too far apart to be successful in doing so.

“You wouldn’t,” Zhongli said. “I… asked the Tsaritsa to let you stay here indefinitely. I’d imagine you will get a missive soon to let you know you are to be stationed here.”

He blinked at him. “What?”

“It… had been impulsive of me. And selfish,” Zhongli admitted. “But I amended our contract. I asked that no matter what happened, you are to be allowed to stay here. She decided that you would be stationed here post the gnosis exchange to monitor how Liyue fares with my death, which she would inform to you once she has the gnosis in her hands. You can always come back to Snezhnaya, of course, but Liyue would always be open to you.”

“Why?” he blurted.

Zhongli’s gaze softened. “At first, because I wanted Osial back, even if he’s just an echo of his old life. Now, it’s because I do not wish to lose an old friend, and I would like to mend the relationship I had broken when I sealed you away.” He sighed. “I am old. I have lived for so long. It is lonely. If I can meet someone who can understand, who knows the burden of long memories, then perhaps it would be much easier to bear.”

“…isn’t Barbatos your friend too?”

“Yes, but he’s in Mondstadt and he gets infuriating once drunk. Unfortunately, he is a drunkard. One cannot go too long without wondering why we are friends in the first place.” Zhongli’s smile was exasperated, but his eyes were fond.

He laughed in response. When the laughter subsided, he bit his lip. “I… wouldn’t mind a companion either,” he admitted. He’d miss his family, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t visit them. It wasn’t like they couldn’t come here to meet him. “It’s hard to make sense of the memories. I think I could use your help.”

“Then perhaps we can make a contract,” Zhongli said. “Your companionship for my help. Is this acceptable?”

An old memory surfaced in his mind. Osial, meeting Zhongli for the first time, uncomfortable and unused to walking around in his new guise, unused to the air and the solid ground.

“I’m not used to being on land, you know. There’s a lot here I don’t understand.”

Morax smiled at him. “If you’d like, I can teach you the customs.”

“Hm. And what do you get in return?”

Morax hummed. “If you agree to it, we can make a contract. Your friendship in return for my help. Is this acceptable?”

Osial grinned. “I think it is. It’s a deal.”

Childe grinned. It was weaker than Osial’s in his memory, but it was there. “I think it is. It’s a deal.”