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「此时相望不相闻，愿逐月华流照君。」
“I am not together with you, but now, we are looking up at the same moon. I wish that I could chase the moonlight, so I may shine upon you.”
Xiao was never one to dream.
Emerging from a millenia of torture under his former master’s service, devouring the dreams of the very lives he had sworn to protect at the cost of his own — the sole purpose of his existence as an adeptus — he could never allow himself to indulge in the act without guilt consuming his entirety. Even after he was saved by Rex Lapis, who had been gracious enough to spare him from the divine retribution he had been anticipating, how could he be deserving of such a privilege with all the carnage and destruction he’d brought upon the Geo Archon’s domain?
Alatus, a name the Conqueror of Demons now shuns with disdain, took the evanescent sensation of dreaming for granted; any ambitions or aspirations he had have long since disintegrated into ashes along with those innocent souls he purged from the face of the earth at the soulless Mountain Lord’s mercy.
A shame it was, being laid to waste as a bloodhound with all the potential the Garuda adeptus once evinced. He was meant to protect, vanquish evil from the land, scatter the lanterns carrying the hopes of Liyue’s people out to sea, form a raging storm only with the sheer force of his golden wings and guide the lost back home to the safety of the Harbour. As pure, untainted Alatus succumbed to the anguishing perturbation he was subjected to over the course of his service and became helplessly chained down by karmic debt alongside his four brothers and sisters, that future escaped his desperate grasp.
How he longed to revert to his former self, repent for the sins he never should have committed at her behest only to stain his own hands as pitch black as the cold and unforgiving Abyss.
He truly was pitiful.
However, despite all of the hardship he’d faced in the past, Xiao found somewhat of a blessing in the form of an otherworldly traveller from the stars beyond Teyvat’s false skies — bearing a name perfectly suited for her bright yet gentle radiance akin to the moon, the celestial body the Yaksha has grown accustomed to marvelling at when dispersing demons late in the darkness of the night: Lumine. Her arrival in Liyue, one uneventful evening on the rooftop of Wangshu Inn with a plate of the sweetest, most fulfilling almond tofu Xiao had ever partaken as an offering, he considered a silent prayer he dared not utter answered by Celestia.
Moreover, Xiao did not foresee the countless blessings he would receive thereafter.
To say the renowned Traveller was stubborn would be an understatement.
No matter how emphatically he persuaded her to keep her distance in order to preserve her light which his presence would no doubt dim, she’d disregard his wishes, as if his ardent warnings only increased her efforts to maintain close proximity tenfold every time they met; ranging from subtle, feather-light touches ghosting over his gloved hands to all-engulfing embraces that filled him with warmth upon her departure (a gesture he willed himself not to return as his tattooed arms traitorously wrapped around her lithe figure, almost like muscle memory). A gradual process of breaking down wall after wall that Xiao had established to protect his brittle self, the final remnants of Alatus, centuries ago.
While Lumine took tentative steps forward, Xiao would always take a firm step back.
It’s in a moment of weakness that his resolve falters; Lumine (as reckless as she is) injures herself during a routine commission with Xiao accompanying her, battered and bruised by a Geo-enhanced Stonehide Lawachurl that caught them off guard disposing of a Hilichurl camp near the outskirts of Liyue Harbour.
After ridding the area of any other possible threats, he lifted her small frame with ease towards a ginkgo tree to avoid her pained limping, the soothing shade cast by the exuberant golden foliage providing respite from the harsh afternoon sun.
“Careless,” Xiao scoffed, omitting the usual characteristic bite to his words.
Lumine insouciantly shrugs in lieu of reply, wounded shoulders flexing before letting a wince slip at the strain. Like a wave crashing onto the weathered shore amidst a typhoon, the reaction elicits a sense of regret to wash over him, a novelty since his liberation. He should have been on the defensive rather than blindly attack, he should have kept a watchful eye on Lumine and came to her aid sooner, he should have--
“Aether used to defend… when we fought side by side on our travels together,” she then spoke up, interrupting his pondering before he could spiral.
Xiao blanked out, the name sounding vaguely familiar. “Your twin brother?” he prompted.
The girl nodded, a crestfallen expression adorning her unblemished face. He was suddenly overcome with the urge to comfort her, whisper meaningless reassurances for the wind to convey — but before he could give in to impulse, she abruptly continued, “Our bladework is complementary; mine is offensive while Aether’s technique is more defensive. Hence why I’m not exactly the most viable when it comes to parrying.” A humourless laugh escapes her lips, leaving a sour taste in his own mouth in its wake.
He had an inkling, from his scrutinising observations during their casual sparring sessions. Her precise, calculated strikes embodied power and control that only her lifetime of experience wielding a sword could muster. Raw, uninhibited strength compensating for a lack of shielding that left her prone to counterattacks, a struggle to effectively deflect the skilful, unrelenting assault of his jade spear. Swift, graceful manoeuvres akin to a partnerless dance intended for another half of a whole to complete, hauntingly palpable in its unhindered loneliness.
“Then, in that case, who will protect you in his stead?” Xiao settled on divulging weakly, barely managing to conceal the apprehensive uncertainty in his faint timbre, almost left unheard due to his vocal cords involuntarily constricting. It doesn't go unnoticed by Lumine as her piercing, attentive gaze meets his.
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, sullen mood replaced with smug remarks in the blink of an eye. “Is the almighty Adeptus Xiao fretting over a mere mortal like me?” she teased. He could already hear the unmistakable overweening smirk in her melodious lilt without even catching a glimpse.
“I am the Guardian Yaksha, after all,” he quipped, “it’s essentially my duty, more or less.”
The lighthearted banter evokes a titter on the blonde’s part — genuine, this time — the sound of chimes rippling through a serene breeze. A dull ache blooms deep within his chest, roots reaching the fathomless chasmic recesses of his being untouched by corruption, the throbbing inexplicably not caused by the ever-present tethers of his karmic debt. For a fleeting moment he forgets how to breathe, waits a beat too long before exhaling again, resurfacing from the hazy depths to be graced by lethargic lustre seeping into his bones — to the marrow.
Best he doesn’t dwell on it; lest he risk complexities be aroused.
Forcibly snapping out of his trance, Xiao unceremoniously gathers a pliant Lumine into his arms, ensuring to cradle her injured form with care, channelling his adeptal energy and hastily teleporting them both to his vantage point at Wangshu Inn enveloped in a cloudy squall of lucent azure butterflies.
Verr Goldet perked up from the reception desk, assessing the pair with a knowing grin, devilish in manner. She shares a glance with Huai’an, engaging in an implicit wordless conversation with her husband mirroring the same expression, the innkeeper nonchalantly nods in affirmation and resumes his patrol of the premises.
Clearing her throat, the Mondstadt native began, “Unfortunately, all of our available rooms are fully booked tonight…” She eyed Xiao with an impish glint, unbothered in the slightest by the conspicuous scowl levelled at her, blatantly warning ‘choose your next words wisely’ . “I’d suggest the young gentleman allow you to lodge in his room. It’s relatively unused as he doesn’t often return until dawn.”
He feels more than hears the acquiescent hum reverberating through the star’s thorax, pulsating surge of electric sparks running up the nerves of his fingers from where they hover grazing over the small of her back, barely retaining physical contact, subsequently sending a shiver down the sinewed column of his spine.
“Only if that’s fine with you?” He already decided on the answer.
Rather than acknowledging her query, Xiao hurriedly ushers her in the direction to his chambers in order to save the last of his dignity, Verr Goldet frantically calling after them before they were out of earshot, “There’s a medical kit in there! I’ll have Yanxiao bring dinner for the Traveller and almond tofu!”
Effacing the adeptal seal diligently keeping his private quarters under lock and key, he reluctantly invites Lumine inside, pausing to regard her hesitancy.
“You really don’t mind me intruding?” She lets the question linger in the air between them, an offer to repudiate if he so wanted.
He marginally registers the corners of his lips quirking into the foreign, imperceptible hint of a smile, qualms burning his throat dissipating instantly. Considerate as ever, in spite of her current condition. “No need to stress.”
Without further ado, she takes a wavering step into his vacant space, contemplating the otherwise mundane abode, void of any personal belongings redolent of the individual residing within the confines of these monotonous plain walls.
“Lie down,” he concisely instructs, motioning towards the equally austere bed hidden away in a corner. The illuminated beast momentarily retreats to retrieve the first aid kit Verr Goldet had mentioned prior.
Lumine opts to lay on her abdomen, granting Xiao easier access to the lacerations marring the milky complexion of her back, intently studying the method in which he meticulously organises the assorted supplies, eventually procuring a gauze from beneath a cluster of bandages. She huffs out a satisfied sigh, inhaling the obscure scent of qingxin wafting off the silken linen as he massages the worn tissue once he deems her injuries sufficiently treated, coaxing the taut muscle into relaxing.
“I’ve forgotten just how fragile humans are…” he confesses, progressing to the rips and tears sullying her forearms. It’s the first dreadful reminder he’s encountered in an eternity, one to rarely interact with mortals aside from the inn’s staff unlike other adepti such as Ganyu, given the Qilin’s role as a secretary to the Liyue Qixing.
Mirth crept onto her comely features. “I think you’ve also forgotten that I’m not quite human, either. I’m… earthbound — for now, at least. Once I reunite with my brother and defeat that unknown god, we’ll restore our power and go home.”
Home, the bizarre word weighs heavy on his tongue. He’d failed to recall the singular purpose of her journey across the seven nations, constantly involving herself in unrelated affairs wherever the next destination in her fraught search for her missing twin would be; the sun to her fragmented moon, yearning to be complete. Winter awaiting for spring to come as thawing blossoms burgeon amidst the impenetrable snow. One day, her sojourn will come to an end. One day, she’ll leave both him and this world behind — a distant, ephemeral memory fading throughout the course of the everlasting lifespan of a star.
For now, he’ll savour each and every moment they have left, fully aware that he can’t rely on the Keeper of Time to slow the sand’s descent within the hourglass counting down the days until their final goodbyes upon her inevitable departure undeterred; albeit the Shade Istaroth from aeons of yore may still be present — whether it be as Kairos, the undying Thousand Winds, or an alternative manifestation.
“Is it selfish to wish you’d stay?” Paradoxically, Xiao himself can admit that he’d value constancy, even if that meant the same day repeated in a continuous loop, a mind-numbing samsara as cyclical as the unchanging fate of Teyvat.
“Perhaps,” she jests, “Truth be told, I’ve entertained the idea on occasion… I’ll discuss the prospect with Aether. You’ll miss me, hm?”
Yes, he desires to say, the single word on the tip of his tongue, though he doesn’t voice the thought.
As if on cue, Paimon materialises into the room trailed by the chef placing the promised servings of his beloved dessert topped with osmanthus syrup by the nightstand. The sprite immediately fusses over Lumine, overwhelming her with bear hugs and prying about the various dressings littering the expanse of skin scarcely shrouded with her pristine white attire that piqued her interest.
He’s definite she already perceived his sincere response, judging from the tender fondness in her eloquent aureate stare.
Henceforth, he may conceivably have forsaken that quondam tenacity.
“My polearm has already slaughtered an endless amount of restless souls. Even I myself have inevitably been engulfed by darkness. Yet you dare urge on even this form of me, treating me as… a ‘companion’. …Do you wish to save me? You… really are an incomprehensible being.”
“The date of your birth… These types of human commemorations are redundant. Ahem… wait. I have a butterfly folded from sycamore leaves for you. Alright, take it. This is an adeptal amulet, it can ward off evil spirits.” (Unbeknownst to an unsuspecting Lumine, who gratefully accepted the gift, the cherished trinket was rigorously crafted from the leaves of a wutong parasol tree — symbolic of secret love and devotion according to the Inazuman language of flowers, Hanakotoba. Perhaps the Yaksha was also blissfully unaware.)
“There was nothing for me to do today. So, I decided I would find a crystalfly for you — to put in your hair. I thought that… it would look nice. The next thing I knew, I had caught several more than I intended. I hope you do not mind. If you wish to meet me, speak my name. …I do not care much for birthdays and celebrations, and I do not wish to be around large groups of people. To be able to spend time with you is enough.”
“Today, I walked alone on the beaches of Guyun Stone Forest and picked up several starconches along the way. I heard that they contain secrets and can be used to send messages. But when I put them to my ear, I heard no voice, just the hollow sound of the wind. No matter. The wrath of evil spirits, omens of calamity… and your voice. That’s all I need to hear. When you’re free, come talk to me about what you’ve heard from the starconches.” (He doesn’t impart the initial shell he’d chanced upon rested adjacent to the neighbouring archipelago of thunder, where the traveller had sailed aboard the Crux’s Alcor earlier that month.)
With stirring preparations for the imminent Lantern Rite afoot, the Traveller was destined for the lithic port of commerce once more, fresh scars flawing alabaster skin from the near-death escapade that was challenging the Raiden Shogun’s unyielding ideals within an inch of her life.
Xiao could sense her advent forthwith the nanosecond she tread into Liyue’s territory, a perennial bond unable to be severed. The northern winds carrying a distinct fragrance of ripened apples and opulent dandelion wine erupted into a sonorous howl reminiscent of the Dihua flute, the God of Freedom Barbatos himself revelling in her return.
Exercising a great deal of self-restraint from appearing post-haste by her side unbidden, he finds a transient distraction in the whirl of the hostelry, merchants and wandering vagrants alike enlivening the normally placid atmosphere. The infectious merriment of the Harbour gripping even the Amur silvergrass of the marsh idly swaying in the draught.
He’d hitherto made it clear at the recent Moonchase Festival that he expected a simple call of his name when needed, should she require his company. “When I make you a promise, I will honour it.”
Quintessentially, the star busied herself in assisting with the arrangements, visiting the inn briskly to deliver him presents and seasonal delicacies tailored to his sui generis tastes courtesy of the Yuheng. (He doesn’t concede that he only stomachs dishes concocted by the Traveller out of benevolence, as Yanxiao apprised.) Thus, he resigns himself to solitude.
It’s not until the evening that she scouts him overlooking Pervases’ temple, the sparrow’s vaunted relics freshly gilded and a muted tang of incense exuding from the shrine. “…Lumine,” he articulates, pharynx dry from disuse. “You’re here.”
“Sorry. I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” she says in a whisper, sincerely apologetic for her perpetuated absence. He denies without a second thought.
“I’m guessing this Lantern Rite is the same as every year. The demons have retreated and the humans are safe and well. If Pervases knew… it would be a lifelong wish come true for him,” he finishes ruefully, beholding his lamented confrère’s sanctuary.
“Xiao…”
“I trust you’re not here to invite me to watch the fireworks in the city?” He blinks away the tears glazing his eyes in a watery sheen, dew from the summit condensing.
Her wind chime laugh permeates the deafening hush of Mt. Tianheng, briefly tranquilising his affliction. “Guilty as charged.”
“I think I’ll be fine right here. As long as the fireworks fly high enough, you can see them from wherever you are. Besides, if anyone wishes to see me, I know they’ll come and find me,” he reciprocates her effervescent beam with a timorous smile of his own. “So, whether I’m here or in the city… it makes no difference.”
Impromptu, Xiao returns to Wangshu Inn to bask in the festive residue, watching on in awe as the resplendent bursts of light smeared the inky canvas of dusk and committing the scene to memory in a permanent engraving.
An alleviating presence occupies the aperture beside him, quelling the wraiths’ torment by means of skinship alone, blanketed in emanating languid abatement. He knew of her capability to cleanse, gleaned the purification of Dvalin conducted by her very own palms; though he feared his case would be an exception, too far gone to salvage from the baleful shackles fettering him in agonising tribulation, unwilling to embolden a forlorn hope.
“You seem to be enjoying this. What happened to, and I quote, ‘Hmph, so it is once again the time where mortals bestrew Liyue Harbour with their glowing trash. Ugh, why so childish’?” she muses jovially.
Xiao sneers, retorting, “That was in reference to the lanterns. You’ve already contested my perspective last year, this dispute is unnecessary.”
She aims for a roguish jab at his periphery. “Touché.”
He begins melting into her side, contented quietude falling upon them. It’s then that the chronic drowsiness he’d been eagerly resisting finds an opportune moment to take hold as he suppresses a yawn.
“And you were insistent about never resting,” she chuckles, tapping her knee in bidding. “Lie down. ‘Since it’s you, I will do it’ ,” she adds wittingly, equipped for his rebuff.
Pessimistic about the nightmares persistently plaguing his sleepless nights, he’s inclined to refuse — nonetheless, the tantalising offer proves too tempting for his weary, slumber-craving soul to reject. Curse the star for playing her trump cards strategically.
“As you wish.” He’ll permit himself a display of vulnerability just this once.
It’s here, comfortably nestled on the balcony sprawled across Lumine’s lap, relishing in the sensation of her delicate yet calloused fingers gently carding through the tousled stands of his hair and shared warmth staving off the bitter zephyr, lulled by the tune of a nameless song from times bygone hummed by the star above him, that he drifts off into a pleasant state in between wakefulness and not, consciousness ebbing like the flow of waves purling the sands of Yaoguang Shoal.
“Sweet dreams,” he discerns Lumine speaking, before pressing a kiss into the crown of his head, brushing his Stygian-teal fringe back. 「我喜欢你。」 (“I love you.”)
For the first time in his vivid recollection, Xiao dreams.