Archive of Our Own

She stares at a blank piece of paper, at yellowed parchment cut up into threes, into curls, into ribbons, as she idly twirls a colorful quill pen in her hands; she sits there, fiddling with her fingers, pressing at her thumbs, pushing down at nervous thoughts that keep bubbling up in the back of her mind, rising like sea foam over the waves, crashing into the corner of her eyes, like the rocky, jagged shore.

If she’s honest with herself, this will be the very first time she’s ever sat down to write a letter! The very first time she’s ever sat herself down at a quaint and lovely and a small little wooden desk – courtesy of Mister Alhaitham – ink bottle in hand as she wets the nib, nibbles on the quills, thinks of what she’d like to write and what she’d like to do an what she’d like to say, as she spins a peacock pattern between her fingertips.

If she’s honest, this is the first time she’s sat down to do… anything, actually.

(Her body hangs there, suspended in the air – she’s floating inside an endless void, dark and cavernous and quiet and empty; a marionette with impossibly thick strings that have been tangled between her fingertips, cutting at her flesh and at her fingers and at her skin and at her bones, yet so invisible to the naked eye and yet so still perpetually felt - still so perpetually there, still so perpetually static and stagnant and dead.

Perpetual voices and perpetual nightmares and perpetual fears played out on end in a loop; the world is on fire and the ground is hot and the air is scorching and she cannot breathe and strange men are grabbing at her throat and she wants to scream, she wants to scream, she wants to scream - )

But, she’s decided to give letter writing a go anyways! Because now that she thinks on it, she’d really love to meet some of the other archons after centuries of silence. But, she also knows Sumeru is in a very much touch-and-go state at the moment – she really can’t afford to go running off now that she finally has The Akademiya back under her reins. So, she’s decided she’s going to write them letters, asking them to come visit her. And then, they’ll all finally meet, and they’ll all have a good time, right?

Just like the good ol’ days! Just as Lumine described it.

(But then, a thought pervades her mind; it is fear as thick as tar, climbing up her throat, threatening to consume her whole.)

But –

What if –

What if they don’t want to come?

What if they won’t want to meet her?

What if they think she’s not good enough? What if they think she’ll never be good enough, that she’s just some worthless, useless, stupid, pathetic little girl who should have been left to rot where she sprouted, an absolute failure of a god, a sham, a disgrace, a mistake, a good-for-nothing, we should have left you where we first found if we knew how much of a disappointment to our nation you’d be. How dare you call yourself our god? You’re nothing more than a child who should have –

Fingers grip at her wrist.

A sob catches in her throat.

They won’t want to meet her just because she’d like them to visit, would they? That’s – that’s not a good enough reason, is it…?

She sighs.

What is she saying – of course it’s not a good enough reason.

After all, her fellow archons are much, much older than she is; they’re so much older than her and they’ve done so many things and seen so many places.

Beelzebul and Morax have cut down entire armadas of gods and demons and monsters and beasts. They’ve led armies, they’ve laid siege; they’ve laid waste to both land and sea, scorched the very ground they’ve walked on, capable of destroying entire nations at no one’s behest, Barbatos even once tore an entire mountain in half with his wind and then just sort of…. left… but still!

All the stories Lumine has told her make them out to be much more grander than they must seem…

Much more grander than she’s ever been…

And just what will they meet?

A pathetic little girl who still needs their help; a pathetic little god who let her nation and her people be swept up from under her feet, let herself be locked up in a cage for everyone to see.

There’s no way any one of them would come, not unless she makes something up…

She suckers in a breath.

Well –

What’s the worst that can happen? 

“Dear Barbatos,

… The aranara have been missing you terribly, as of late, and wish to hear your songs on the wind again. There’s been a strange sadness drifting over Vanarana recently, and with everything that just occurred, I’m not sure if I’ll be enough to help out. Do you think you could possibly stop by Sumeru anytime soon..?”

“Dear Morax,

There is something very important I’d like you to find.

But it cannot be found among the highest of mountains or amidst the deepest of seas. It cannot be found flying in the sky, or walking on the earth, or sparkling near the sun, hiding itself within the treetops. This secret is expertly hidden, and yet, is plain as day to see. They say it had fallen down from the heavens, and longed to return. Can you guess what it is?

Please come to Sumeru City to find your answer.”

And in a letter tightly sealed shut, hidden away between scraps of clothes and useless notes of well-wishes –

“Dear Beelzebul,

… A divinely created puppet who goes by the names of Balladeer, Scaramouche, and Kunikuzushi is asking for you. He says you are his creator.

He has been under my care for the past several weeks following an incident in Sumeru where the Fauti and The Akademiya had been attempting to create him into a false god. Though their plans have been foiled, it does not seem as though the Fauti will return to reclaim him, and I personally do not trust him outside my care for the time being. But since he has been asking over you, do you think you could find the time to visit? I’m sure he’d appreciate it very much.

Safe travels,

Buer.” 

As soon as Venti receives the letter in his hands from a disgruntled Diluc – who oddly smelt of ash and pinecone and wild and red bunny girls (also apparently put in charge of collecting his mail since he hung out at his bar so much) – he had already known it was coming; he had already known it was coming, because it was coming from another archon, an archon he hadn’t heard a peep from in such a long time! And of course, you knew he had to have heard that latest juicy bit of gossip on the wind! How could he not?

Diluc merely grumbles, asking him what it’s all about – he claims the only time he’s ever seen Venti so excited is when the Dawn Winery produces new liqueur. Venti places a finger over his mouth and tells him to hush; he tells him that it’s “godly” matters – not fit for a mortal, so a mortal best butt out. Diluc grumbles some more as he shrugs and sighs and tells him that he’d leave him be for now, but that he’d better not help himself to some free drinks while he was gone, as Venti tears open the envelope.

And though he knew it was coming, it does nothing less but to make him smile wide and grin happily as he reads the contents of the letter, fingers idly tracing over familiar green ink.

…

Oh, she wants him to help with the aranara? She’s telling him that they’re sad and sick and lonely? Well, of course, he thinks! He doesn’t mind at all!

Ah, but what a curious thing – the sadness he feels on the wind just isn’t their own.

Hmm.

He laughs.

Well, he better go check it out regardless, shouldn’t he?

Zhongli had found a most curious thing in the funeral parlor’s mailbox, just this morning.

It was a letter – but it was not a letter addressed to Director Hu Tao, or even Ferrylady.

It was addressed to him.

And, as he sits to open it up in his office on his lunch break, he finds yet another most curious thing – a riddle, left by none other than Buer herself, asking him to find something Sumeru City – her way of conveying information she wanted him to know. He smiles, as his fingers trace over the familiar green ink. It’s been a very, very long time since she’s sent him a letter, and it truly overjoys him to see she’s “still got it”, because the riddle is just as confusing as he remembers them being, but…

Something about the color of the ink, the little swirls of her ts, the scent of Sumerian Roses freshly in bloom that wafts off the page that...

He begins to cry.

He begins to cry, and he doesn’t know why.

Director Hu Tao ends up opening his office door at that very moment, most likely about to blurt something nonsensical and ridiculously silly, he had no doubt – only to be surprised by the sight of him grabbing a small box of tissues from underneath his desk, to quietly wipe away nonsensical tears from his eyelids. She gasps before she clamps her hands over her mouth and then softly, she leans in, approaching him, asking him if he was alright, if something bad had happened, if he had an upset stomach, and he –

He shakes his head, and he quietly mutters that he does not know.

He does not know.

All that he knows is that he’s received a letter from an old friend, and it’s made him begin to weep.

Hu Tao cautiously asks if the letter is from a late friend – if it was a last communication from someone who no longer walked on this earth.

“No,” he murmurs. “No, they’re still… here.”

But somehow, he gets the strangest feeling that saying that…. is wrong.

It only takes Yae Miko one glance at the letter to scoff, and to know that whatever Lord Kusanali was suggesting was a very bad idea, and that Ei should absolutely not go.

“But, Miko... shouldn’t I?” Ei asks, in a sad and soft and distant tone, muttering underneath pale pink lips and wrinkles of regret. “Should I not go see him if he is asking for me? Don’t I… owe him that much, at least?”

“He should have never been made at all, that’s the first problem,” she scoffs again. “And did you not just finish reading what the Fauti and The Akademiya attempted to do with your precious little puppet? And I’m sure he went along with it too, because instead of just getting rid of him when we had the chance, you let him go and sealed his body in a domain, hopefully never to be seen again! Isn’t that right?”

Ei remains silent, as she swallows.

“… Listen,” Yae sighs softly. “I’m not trying to admonish you for decisions you can’t take back. But what I am trying to tell you is that he’s likely too far gone, considering he ran off with the gnosis and then agreed to whatever… this was,” she says, as she waves the letter around. “You just suddenly showing up will stir up the hornet’s nest. Who even knows if Lord Kusanali is telling the truth?”

Ei gasps, taken aback. “Miko! You’re not going to accuse Buer of lying, are you? That’s low, even for you!”

The kitsune rolls her eyes. “I’m just saying that it’s awfully convenient that he just so happened to end up in Sumeru and is now under the custody of the Dendro Archon… And Ei, for however badly you may feel about this, and I know it is a lot…”

“If he had truly changed his mind,” she says faintly, “then he would have done it ages ago. Not now.”

But even still, Yae knows they’re at a stand-off; Ei is as stubborn as ever, willing to persist even through the worst of nonsense. She supposes this is all her fault; she supposes this is why she had fallen in love with her, but she really didn’t need the attitude right now, especially with something so delicate and large of a scope…

… There was no good way to get out of this.

“… But let me guess,” Yae groans, “you’re going to go anyways, despite me clearly outlining why you should not?”

Her wife doesn’t give her an answer, but merely looks to the ground, her gaze overcast with guilt. She’s going, and she knows Yae doesn’t want her to go, but is going anyway. And so, Yae sighs, exasperated, as she rubs her temples.

No good way to get out of this, indeed.

“… Fine, I suppose I’d feel better knowing exactly where you’re going and when you’ve gone instead of you deciding to just run away in the middle of the night and scaring everyone out of their wits in the process,” she huffs. “But you will promise me this – you will not be operating under the assumption that you are the Raiden Shogun. You will need to assume the identity of a normal human woman.”

“… I can’t be the Shogun?” Ei asks, with a pout.

“I’ll remind you, dear, that you are seriously testing my patience,” she grumbles. “Of course not! This is an extremely delicate and sensitive matter! You storming the city as an archon will draw unnecessary attention and a crowd. Not to mention what Lord Kusanali will think with you beating down her door. It’s just too much fuss, we need to aim towards keeping this as discreetly as possible so it can be done and over with.”

Ei hums for a moment, nodding. “Can I pick my own name?”

“This had better be good,” Yae states, deadpan, as she crosses her arms.

Ei sweats, nervously. “Um, I’d like to call myself Mei because - “

“Seriously?!” Yae cries out, about to admonish her wife for her present stupidity, but thought better on it. “… You know what? Fine. We don’t have time for this. So long as ‘Mei’ continues to be a normal person, we can stick with that. We’ll need to find you a less… eye-catching outfit. Let me see if any of my shrine maidens has a spare kimono you can borrow…”

As she seals off the very last letter – tying it to the foot of a gentle dove - she thinks about what she’s just done.

She thinks about the fact she’s just lied – she thinks about the fact that they’re all pretty bold-faced lies. She thinks about the fact that she’s likely going to have to come up with even more lies to keep the starting lies going. She thinks about the fact that she hasn’t felt anything at all during these last few moments – that her heart has been empty, her head has been quiet, and her feet haven’t touched the ground. She thinks and she thinks and she ponders and she asks and she muses – why had she done all of this? Why had she lied so blatantly to the people she supposedly desired to trust above all else? Why was it so hard to be truthful, instead of spinning another yarn? Was this what she truly wanted?

The truth is that she just doesn’t know – if she still can’t even identify other people’s emotions correctly and properly, how can she trust herself to easily define her own? And she tells herself it’s because other archons wouldn’t want to meet her otherwise, convinced herself they’d find faults in her character, just her to be “not good enough” – but was that even true to begin with?

Or was it just another lie?

…

Well, she supposes she’d lied far enough already; there’s no real recourse or reconciliation for her actions at this point than to stick with them, and to keep going. The riddle she has sent to Morax should be sufficiently confusing enough to keep him occupied for a while – she thinks he’d like an excuse to go about a trip around the city. Lumine had mentioned he had been wanting to travel more. And while it was true that the aranara did want to see Barbatos again, it was more of a “want” and not a “need”. And for whatever it was worth, she did think that Beelzebul and her creation needed to see each other again – that they needed to speak to one another, openly and candidly. That this thirst for a curse had been borne from her actions within her, and maybe now, they’d finally be able to bury the hatchet.

She just needed to make those reasons into a reality.

That’s all…

She didn’t have to come.

She didn’t have to come, as Barbatos is the first to arrive in Sumeru, appearing so deeply within the heart of the forest of the aranara; he perches himself up so sweetly atop an old, overturned log, as he balances himself on the toughest of roots and entangles himself in the most fetid, and decayed of branches. He strums at his lyre and he sings at his songs and he grasps at his wings as they catch the wind from underneath him, the most angelic sight she’s ever seen, the softest notes she’s ever heard, basking in the glory in this picture-perfect vision of a god, as all the tiny little aranara surround him, sitting in awe of this mysterious stranger who hails from a faraway land. And she didn’t have to come – but she came anyway, as she watches him closely from behind an old, rotted tree trunk, thinking that – just maybe – she’s a little bit in awe, too.

(Oh, she remembers how Lumine’s eyes sparkled like the stars that dance across the night sky, whenever she spoke of him; she remembers how soft her voice sounded then – like the clouds up above – whenever she recalled his gentle words and his gentle love and his gentle spirit. She looked at her memory of him so tenderly, as if he had hung the moon in the sky for her – as if it had been a canvas solely dedicated to showcase how deep his devotion for her flowed out from within him. As if it was a promise between just the two of them, spoken in hush whispers, in the darkest corner of the night.

And she remembers just how struck Lumine seemed, in general; how her lashes would flutter at the thought of him, how she’d laugh when she described his antics, how tightly she would hold her hands when she reminisced on the last time they had spoken to each other…

And Nahida remembers thinking – this is what being in love must look like.)

She can see why, honestly – she’s a little star struck, too. He has a way of comforting her; he has a way of making her feel at home, at ease, at peace, even if she’s not the direct, intended audience. Even if she’s… technically spying on him.

And of course, she didn’t have to come.

Even if she had no idea on how she knew that, somehow, he’d be the first to arrive (this sensation that sinks so deeply into her bones, awakening her to a world she’s never known) – despite being described as chronically late by Lumine, if her tales are to be believed – she didn’t have to come. She didn’t have to come, because she was so sure she would know when he would have arrived regardless – she knew all that happened in Sumeru, after all. All of her people’s fears and worries and hopes and thoughts and dreams, wrapped in the gentle petals of Sumerian roses, rocked to sleep by the ever-blowing sea-breeze.

But she came anyway, wanting to be in his presence for the very first time.

And she came anyways, and he smiles as he notices her, jumping off the old log with the last, tiniest bit of grace that he had, as he goes to pat her on the head, all the aranara silently watching them as they surround the odd pair.

“Well, look who it is!” He greets cheerfully. “And here I thought I wouldn’t be getting such a warm welcome so quickly! Making an entire village happy isn’t an easy job for just any bard, you know!”

“Oh, I know,” she mumbles faintly. “Thank you so much for coming…”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all!” He chuckles. “It’s nice to be out here again. It’s been such a long time.”

But then, he hums, tucking his fingers underneath his thumb, as he presses his hand against his chin.

“But, if I had to guess....” he says, trailing off slightly. “It seems like this strange aranara sickness has caught you, too! Is something wrong?”

She shakes her head, a little bit confused. “No, Sumeru is doing well – “

“With you,” he cuts her off.

“… Huh?” Nahida tilts her head, not understanding. 

“I’m asking if there’s something wrong with you, Buer!” Barbatos laughs at her. “Your nation can be all well and dandy but you can still be sad at the same time, you know. So, what’s up? Is something wrong?”

She swirls at her thumbs and bites at her lips, so hesitant to say merely anything; she can’t let the lie unravel now, she can’t let things so quickly –

“You can tell me. I won’t judge, I promise,” he reassures her, softly chuckling. “And I don’t mind. I’m here to help everyone else, anyways. I might as well help you too.”

But even with his soft voice and his kind words and his gentle demeanor, she swallows hard, trembling in place; fearful of him, fearful of his reaction, fearful about everything about him. She can’t let him know, she can’t let him know, she can’t let him know –

“… You can’t!” She hurriedly blurts out, trying to fill a silence as deep and as wide as the distant seas. “I – I can’t talk about it right now. It’s… it’s far too big and I’m far too small and it hangs itself so high and I’m so little and I – I just can’t,” she whimpers.

“I can’t even begin to touch it,” she whispers. “It stares at me like it’s death. Like it’ll swallow me whole if I try. I’m sorry, I know you want to help, but I just – I can’t.”

Barbatos frowns for just a moment, a distant and unreadable expression flashing across the depths of verdure eyes.

She trembles and shakes at thought of what he’s going to say, her limbs so weak and so useless, as she grasps at her arms so tightly at her sides; her knees are as soft and as unsteady as a cup of Padisarah Pudding, her brow is drenched like a rainstorm, her tongue wriggles so helplessly at the back of her throat like a bird cast adrift into the sea, with no land and no lifeline and no raft in sight.

She trembles, she shakes, she worries, she plays out the worst version of himself in her mind and then he opens his mouth to speak and –

“So, you’re really overwhelmed right now, huh?” He speaks tenderly, his brow scrunching in caring worry. “Well, I suppose I can’t help you if you can’t open up, but maybe – “

“I want to say something!” A tiny little aranara comes to stand beside them, waving a tiny little hand.

“Nara sometimes play games with other nara to make them not sad anymore,” they comment. “If you’re sad, then maybe we can play games in the village to make you happy again!” 

“Oh, a game…?” She mutters. “I’m not sure he has the time – “

“Of course I have the time!” He laughs. “Plus, it’ll be fun to play with you again! You were such a big prankster, do you know that? And you sure loved your riddles and tongue-twisters. Especially when I was drunk! You were awful!”

Nahida balks. “I’m – I’m so sorry about that – “

He laughs again. “Oh, don’t be! I know you might not… remember those times anymore, but I didn’t mean it in a bad way! I miss them, actually. You came up with some really clever ones, and you always made them so funny! Do you think you could try your hand at another sometime?”

Nahida nods, giving a small smile. “I think I can try!”

“Great!” Barbatos smiles. “Then let’s go play!”

That tiny aranara – the littlest one of them all – then leads them to a small and a tucked and a hidden away corner, deep in the village, where the mushrooms grow plentiful and the tall, green leaves provide a bountiful amount of shade, shielding them from the hot morning sun; they arrive at a small and a wooden and a clay little house, full of pots and pans and treasure boxes. The tiny aranara smiles then, and tells them that this is their home – this is where they had spent their time during the festival, attempting to hone their cuisine.

And speaking of – they murmur to themselves, repeating the fact that her and Barbatos were guests, so they should offer them something, and so, they do – the little aranara feeds them fresh fruit that grows from around the pond and water from the gentle stream as a little snack, though Barbatos sadly sighs as he bites into the peach, wishing that it were a fine wine, instead.

Nahida rejects the peach – she takes a sip of water, instead.

“Hmm, what nara game should we play…?” The little aranara ponders, cutely cleaning her cup.

“Well, we don’t have to do this – “Nahida tries to say, before Barbatos cuts her off again.

“Of course we have to, silly!” He laughs, as he wipes his mouth with his sleeves. “We have to turn that frown upside down! And you know what? I think I know! Why don’t we play hide and seek? This place is big enough to have lots of good hiding spots, you know!”

So, nervously, Nahida agrees. And then, she hides amongst the flowers and the dirt and the tall grass. Venti hides high amidst the tree tops, using his green cape as a shield. The aranara… attempts to hide, about a tiny little mound of white pebbles, before an older, elder aranara explains the game to them fully, clarifying that since the others had hidden first, that they need to be the one looking for the other players hiding – and that, the next time they hide, it should not be in a place that’s so obvious. The tiny aranara takes it in stride, smiling happily as he begins to call out for them.

And so, they all get their turns hiding and seeking, running and playing like the wind and the air and the birds; they throw small white pebbles into the ponds and the lakes and the rivers, they sit about a table in the house and play guessing games and short, little riddles; she tongue-ties the both of them, as Barbatos laughs like he’s never laughed before. She tries to throw sticks at a stray dog that had wandered near the border of the forest, frowning as it runs off. And eventually, the entire village gets wrapped up in their games and their antics, not wanting to miss out on all the fun.

And finally, everyone seems happy, at last.

“… Well, that only took about the whole morning!” Barbatos sighs, nodding. “But I do believe my job is done here! Everyone in Vanarana is happy! Even you!”

“Yeah,” she giggles.

“But man, I’m so hungry…!” Barbatos whines. “I skipped breakfast today to get here faster, and just in case the winds were bad, and that single peach did nothing for me at all… Say, why don’t we go back to the city to grab something else to eat?”

“Oh, you want to go to Sumeru City?” Nahida asks.

“Of course!” He nods. “I mean, no offense to all the aranara here, they have wonderful cuisine, but I… have a hankering for something closer to human food. And what better place to go eat than in a big city?” 

“Well, it’s just….” She trails off, nervous again. “You came here and you did what I asked you to do. I thought you would leave by now…”

“Aww,” he chuckles. “Do you want me to go that badly?” 

“No!”

 She shouts hurriedly, the words forcing them out of her lungs before her lips and her hands could stop them, the fear pouring out of her throat like the thickest of tear, threatening to constrict her throat, he had just came here, please don’t go, please don’t go, please don’t leave me , I don’t want to be alone anymore –

She clamps her hands over her mouth, hard, as she looks toward the ground, terrified.

She hadn’t meant to yell. She hadn’t meant to scream. She hadn’t meant to make such a horrid noise from the back of her mouth, so desperate and so pathetic and so pleading, the very worst of her nature rotting out of her veins. It had just – it had just come out, so harsh and so sudden and so violent and unexpected, like an ocean of guilt had drowned her breath from underneath her lungs.

And she stands there, terrified and shaking, expecting the absolute worst to happen – expecting hands to pull at her arms, mouths to tell her to be quiet, for the air to be scorching, for a cacophonous noise to scream at her, to tell her she’s useless she’s hopeless, she’s worthless, she should –

But…

Barbatos just laughs.

He just laughs, as he bends down slightly, and brushes a loose strand of silver hair from her eyes.

“See?” He says quietly. “That’s the sound of someone still sad and hungry. I can’t leave now, you gotta get something to eat! And the food’s only going to get colder, right? So, let’s go.”

“… Right,” she murmurs.

Of course.

See?

Barbatos wasn’t hard to talk to; he was nice and he was sweet and he was kind and he was caring, as he carefully lifted her up on his shoulder, spreading out his wings. She didn’t have anything to worry about, she didn’t have anything to worry about –

“We’re going to fly to the city – is that okay?” He asks her gently.

She nods, grabbing his cape. “Please don’t drop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he laughs, and off they go.

They land in a hidden corner of the city, about the outskirts still tucked away underneath the tall, great canopy of Sumeru’s tall, great tree, surrounded by The Akademiya’s elegant flower gardens and reservoirs for nature studies. Ever so gently, Barbatos pries her off his back, settling her down carefully onto the warm ground on her own two feet, brushing away dirt and smoke and ash from her face, as sunlight scatters between bright green eyes; and then, ever so slowly, he takes her hand in his, as they walk out together onto the main street, as Nahida smiles and waves to all her citizens and all her people, who seem so surprised that a strange, green little bard is leading their god around like she’s a child – and she merely remarks, to anyone who asks, that Barbatos is simply a new friend.

He’s a new friend, who had gotten lost on his way back to his homeland; a new friend who hadn’t eaten or drank in days, starving in the desert – so, she’s just helping him get back on his feet, until he can travel back home.

And then, of course, there comes the murmurs and the whispers; the talk of how gentle and how loving and how sweet she can be, even to complete and total strangers.

“Of course Lord Kusanali would be so generous,” an older woman sighs, before she turns to her son. “And you could learn to be the same way, too – I know what you said to that girl last night!”

“Mom – “ The son whines, before his mother begins to pull at his ear.

“I won’t hear it, young man!” She scolds him. “You had no right to call her ugly – “

…

Right.

Gentle.

Kind.

Loving.

(It feels like a lie.)

(She feels like a lie.)

(It’s all a -)

Eventually, they happen to pass by the main entrance to the Akademiya by chance (and even further up, the doors to her sanctuary and her prison and her birth alike), discussing the very best teas to drink – as Barbatos argues for something sweeter, while she defends bittersweet – only to come across a very strange sight.

It’s the sight of… Beelzebul, arguing with a city guard and demanding to be let in to see the Dendro Archon.

“Ma’am, I’ve already told you – just because our Lesser Lord Kusanali is a gentle and a kind and loving god does not mean we can let you prance all over her sanctuary as you like! Most especially – as I’ve already told you several times – she’s been out all morning,” the man explains, clearly exasperated. “Besides, do you have any proof you were called upon by her? You’re from Inazuma, by the looks of it – it’s a long way out from home.”

“But I do have business with the Dendro Archon,” Beel pouts.

“But can you provide me with proof?” The guard asks again. “Like a letter, perhaps?”

She sighs, crossing her arms. “No. No, I’m afraid I cannot.”

The man sighs too, shaking his head. “Then I’m afraid I just cannot help you, ma’am.”

Beel scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Utterly useless. You should be lucky I cannot cut you where you stand. It’d be a trivial task, after all.”

“Threats will not work on me, nor will they get you what you want, ma’am,” the guard frowns, readying his spear. “Either you accept that you need to give me proof that you seemingly cannot provide or you can get lost – “ 

“Wait! Wait! No!” Nahida shouts, as she runs up to them. “Please don’t fight! I really was waiting for her!”

“B – The Archon! Yes. I am ready to meet with you… Lord Kusanali,” Beel states, with an awkward smile, and a curt bow.

“Oh, Lesser Lord Kusanali! Please forgive my ignorance!” The man yells, ashamed. “I was unaware of your guest’s arrival!”

Nahida laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s okay, it’s okay. She… probably just lost the letter I gave her. Right…?”

“Yes, indeed,” Beel hurriedly nods. “I lost it in the sea. A fish ate it.” 

“Really? A fish ate it?” Barbatos parrots from behind them, bewildered and confused.

Beel nods again. “Yes. As I was re-reading the letter to refresh my mind for the… instructions upon my arrival to contact Lesser Lord Kusanali, a fish leaped from the depths of the sea and caught the letter between its teeth and whisked it away! It was a rather… odd sight, but…. I suppose this is why they say the sea is dangerous…?”

“Ugh, this has to be the worst lie I’ve heard all week,” Barbatos groans, covering his head with his hands. 

“Anyways, we should be going now!” Nahida interjects. “We won’t trouble you any further! I’m sorry!” 

“Of course, Lord Kusanali!” The guard states, smiling wide. “Please, have a wonderful day!”

After they escape from the most awkward scene she’s ever been involved with, she runs; she runs.

She runs far and she runs wide and she runs long, attempting to alleviate all of her fears and her worries and her nightmares and her dread that stick to her skin like parasites, eating away at her flesh and at her bones and at her mind; she runs, as fast as her tiny little legs can take her, because she feels it’s the only option left, as Barbatos and Beelzebul sprint after her, trying to catch up. In the back of her mind, she’s being chased by the weight of her lies and expectations and false promises she can’t live up to; the sages are so big and she’s just so small and all they do is just swallow her up, they’re swallowing up, they’re swallowing her up –

And then, she trips on a rock.

She trips on a rock – a pebble, maybe – and falls down onto the ground, hurting herself.

Barbatos is quick to take her within his arms, wrapping her gently into his cape and into his winds and into his songs, as he tries to soothe her pain; Beel immediately takes up the rear guard, and glares at anyone who gets much too close, as they whisk her away to a quiet place – a quiet place, a little alcove in the middle of the smallest alleyway she’s ever seen, hidden underneath a glass archway decorated with plants and flowers and roses, as Barbatos sets her down gently onto the small, wooden bench and wipes away the budding tears from her eyes, as Beel rips a long part of her sleeve to firmly wrap around Nahida’s knee, wiping away the blood with the yukata underneath.

“Now, why did you go and do that, silly?” Barbatos softly laughs, brushing her hair out of her eyes, lightly scolding her like an older brother might to his much younger baby sister.

And as she’s given a moment to catch her breath –

She doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know, as she looks up to see Beel standing near the entrance of the alcove, blocking anyone’s view of her and Barbatos with her back and her lone sword, her arms crossed. And as she looks down, Nahida… isn’t sure what she expected.

Lumine’s outrageous tales had made Beelzebul seem like a statue, like a sword, like a weapon – strong and unyielding and fearsome and ferocious, with the vitality of a tempest, like an unstoppable force composed of thunder and lightning and wind and chaos. Cold and distant and frightening.

But –

The woman before her now is none of these things; she’s awkward, and socially inept, a terrible liar, and she keeps fidgeting nervously, almost like she feels she’s out of place.

And Nahida certainly thinks she’s dressed fairly out of place, too – an old, plain kimono dyed simply in blues and pinks and yellows, a faded and sun-worn obi clumsily tied about her waist with a child’s handwork. A once-mighty sword, perhaps, does hang from her hips, but it can’t possibly be the legendary Musou Isshin she’s heard so much about – the sheath is ratty and torn apart, and the metal is rusted and the handle looks like it’s about to break. And her hair is loose and slightly disheveled, brushed in a hurry; and though she has lovely pink lips and flushed red cheeks, it seems rather odd for a woman who was described so practically – for a woman who sounded like she never had the time or the choice or even much care to put into something as frilly as make-up.

And she can tell it bothers her too, as Barbatos laughs and lets her know how strange it seems to see her in “everyday clothing” and “makeup” (which confirms this isn’t what she typically wears). 

This isn’t the impression Nahida had of Beel at all – quite the opposite, actually.

She looks… sad and lost and lonely; like a little girl who had found herself completely and utterly alone in the middle of a deep and a darkening forest, and didn’t know how to come back home.

(Like… her).

But even underneath the layers of awkward chatter and social ineptness, she doesn’t think she’s right to just toss the tales away, throw precaution onto the wind – whenever their eyes meet, there is a sharp hunger that she easily notices, that hangs about the surface, underneath the storm of violet eyes. There is a wolf within the body of this awkward, clumsy shape of a woman, and that wolf has not forgotten the delectable meat Nahida has promised her.

(Nahida doubts she could ever forget.)

“So…. what’s with the disguise, exactly?” Barbatos asks, curious.

“… Because the matter at hand is a sensitive issue, Miko suggested that I should dress up and pretend to be an ordinary woman who was called upon by the Dendro Archon for… personal reasons,” Beel states, a little awkwardly. “… She felt very strong that my “storming of the capital” – as she put it – would be a very bad idea. So, just for today, I am simply a swordswoman named Mei! From Inazuma, of course.”

Barbatos squints. “… Really, Mei? Isn’t that like… dangerously close to your actual name? Couldn’t you have picked… literally anything else?”

Beel frowns. “…. I couldn’t possibly bear to name myself Makoto, I – I can’t live up to that name – “

“Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute!” Barbatos exclaims. “That’s – that’s not what I meant at all! And I definitely didn’t say you had to name yourself after her, just… something that’s not so obvious! Like… what about Yuki? Yuki’s a short, cute name that’s different from your own! And it’s easy to remember!”

Beel sighs, shrugging. “Yes, I suppose that would have been a better option, but I’ll have you know this was all on short notice.”

“And what’s this business of yours, anyways?” He asks. “You know, since we’re all gods here – “

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no –

Beel scoffs. “This is a private matter, drunkard. I will not speak of it with you.”

“Sheesh, coming out with drunkard already, huh?” Barbatos sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I came out here to eat, so why don’t we go out to eat together? Maybe some Sumerian sweets? You’re always up for dessert, right?”

“Oh, desserts!” Beel happily coos. “Now you’ve begun talking sense! Yes, I’d love to have some, but I can’t remember the last time I was in Sumeru. I wouldn’t know where to begin…”

He grins. “Well, it’s a good thing we have Buer here to help us, don’t we?”

Oh, thank everything under the heavens.

“Oh, sure! Why don’t we talk about it on our way to the food vendors?” Nahida suggests.

Everyone nods.

And that is how she found herself walking through the streets of Sumeru City, Beel holding onto to one hand as Barbatos held onto the other, as he talked and talked and chittered and chattered; Baal mainly chose to ignore him and his “nonsense” as she called it, rolling her eyes as Nahida looked up at the both of them, absolutely feeling like a little child being guided by their mother and father into a world she had yet to fully understand. It was nice, she supposes – it was nice, to feel like she had a family, for once…

But after their awkward meeting, Nahida would be absolutely sure to tell Lumine this – Beelzebul is not exactly as stoic or as standoffish as Lumine had first described her. Far from it, actually.

She’s awkward, she’s weird, she’s childish and playful; she’s easily excitable and adorable and she lives to eat all the sweets and she doesn’t really seem to understand how much people work quite yet – a belief likely rooted from the past, if Nahida had to put a name to it, much preferring to stay quietly hidden in the sidelines, as Barbatos does all the charming for them. Nahida thinks she can understand how that feels – how it feels to be saddened by the fact that she doesn’t really understand the beings she was supposed to protect, confused and bewildered and stunned by all their ideas and nuances.

But with Beelzebul – it feels almost like… fear.

Like she was afraid.

Like she was afraid she would constantly be doing or saying the wrong.

(Nahida understands that, too.)

But even still –

Even underneath that pale thin veneer of sweetness and kindness and awkwardness and good, there still lay a wolf in hunger, shimmering from just beneath the surface, eager to snap its jaws at her throat. Whether she knows it or not – and she has the deep feeling that Beel does know it – the lightning elemental is good at staring; she’s good at staring at her prey like a predatory animal, good at staring directly into Nahida’s soul, quietly demanding what was promised to her, as Barbatos talks and talks and chitters and chatters away. She even thinks Beel is trying her best not to crush her hand, but –

But the temptation only arises, just for a moment. The next one, it’s gone, and they tolerate each other. For now.

“… So, what do you want?” Barbatos asks her with a grin, snapping her away from her thoughts.

“Huh?” Nahida looks up at him, a bit confused.

“He’s asking what you want to eat,” Beel clarifies for her.

“Oh, but I’m not really hungry…” Nahida murmurs.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he raises an eyebrow. “I don’t mind paying for you, you know! And besides, all you had this morning was some water, you have to be starving by now!”

“… I don’t know what hunger feels like,” Nahida softly confesses. “I wasn’t hungry or thirsty when I accepted the water; I just did it to be kind. I – I haven’t had the chance to feel hungry, since I was placed into the sanctuary so close after my birth. So… I’m not sure when I’m supposed to feel it. Or if I’ll ever feel it.”

“Geez, how long did they keep you locked up for?!” He asks, a little shocked. “I mean – I knew it was a while, but – “

“Um, I’m not really sure we should discuss this – “

“Barbatos, do not accost her,” Beel barks.

“I’m just asking – “

“Why can’t you behave your age?” She frowns heavily at him. “Why must you act like a child about everything?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk!” He groans. “Weren’t you the one who decided to keep herself locked away for literal ages – “

“You know nothing of what I went through – “

“We all went through something terrible, I’ll happily remind you!” he yells back. “That doesn’t give you the right to act all – “

“A pita pocket!”

She just… blurts it out loud, as high and as big as her little lungs would give her – as big and as loud and as high and as dramatic as a toddler throwing a tantrum, demanding the very last bit of candy from a sibling’s box. While her shouting has accomplished her goal – as the two archons before her stand speechless at her unexpected yelling – it… also has the unintended side effect of catching the attention of passerby, who all seem to stare her, deeply confused, for they had never heard their archon be so… loud. Ever.

(She doubts she’s living this down.)

“… I’ll take a pita pocket,” she says quietly. “No cheese, extra onion. You couldn’t hear me over your arguing, so I decided to scream.”

“… Okay, pita pocket, no cheese and extra onion,” Barbatos coughs, a bit embarrassed by the whole thing. “And… you?”

Beel doesn’t answer, simply raising an eyebrow at him and shrugging.

“… Listen, I know you like sweets, but there’s like, five different options on the menu!” Barbatos whines. “I don’t like you enough to pay for all five, I’ll have you know!”

Beel scoffs, rolling her eyes. “And with what mora? Your tab from the bar?”

Barbatos elects to ignore her, but not before sticking his tongue out at her. “Buer! Any recommendations?”

“From me?” She asks, pointing at herself.

“Well, she hasn’t been outside of Inazuma for a really, really long time,” he sighs. “I can’t remember the last time we would have gotten food here together. She even said it herself earlier!”

Beel nods. “It is true. It’s been… quite a long time. I’m afraid I don’t remember what might be sold around here.”

“Well, what sweet do you usually like?” Nahida asks her.

Beel closes her eyes, and hums. “… Soft,” she mutters. “Something with milk.”

“Then, you should get the Padisarah Pudding!” Nahida giggles. “I think you’ll really like it!”

Beel nods. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

“… And I’ll just get some panipuri for myself,” he sighs, as he opens up his mostly empty wallet, as Beel tsks away.

And after waiting a little while for all their food to be made, they sit down on a bench to eat together. 

Like she had mentioned earlier – she wasn’t really hungry.

She hasn’t ever really felt hungry, as the stasis had kept her body constantly leveled to one state. She’s always wondered what it would feel like to be hungry, though – to smell all the delicious dishes around Sumeru and to want to eat them, instead of simply being content with a mere whiff and going about her day. But, like she said, she’s never been hungry, she’s never felt hungry. At least, not yet.

Maybe now that she’s been freed from her prison, she’ll start feeling more and more things!

… She just hopes it doesn’t turn out too bad.

And at least, everyone else seems to be happy!

Beelzebul has taken quite a liking to the pudding – she keeps giggling to herself, whispering that it’s like a floral cloud of deliciousness – and then, she becomes a little sad, frowning and sighing, muttering on how Makoto would have probably liked it, if she were still here. Barbatos is definitely enjoying his panipuri, praising the crunchy potato and the fragrant sauce and the convenience of it all – his only lament is that he wishes he could have paired some wine with this, but then he thinks better of it, grumbling on how Nahida probably wouldn’t have let him order alcohol to begin with.

And well –

Her pita pocket is okay.

It’s warm and it’s toasty and it’s sweet due to all the extra onions, crunchy and herby and punchy! She doesn’t think she’ll want to eat again in quite a while, if she does get hungry – this has made her really full.

Briefly, she turns her mind towards Morax and where he might be; if he’s made it to the city already, if he’s having a fun time looking around.

Who knows – he might be having the time of his life right now…

  But it cannot be found among the highest of mountains or amidst the deepest of seas. It cannot be found flying in the sky, or walking on the earth, or sparkling near the sun, hiding itself within the treetops. This secret is expertly hidden, and yet, is plain as day to see. They say it had fallen down from the heavens, and longed to return. Can you guess what it is?

Please come to Sumeru City to find your answer.”

Hmm.

Yes, he does think this is one of the most difficult riddles he’s had to undertake from yet, but –

It does seem as though the solution should be rather obvious, should it not?

He almost thinks that it’s referring to the nature of one’s heart, or perhaps the notion of feelings themselves – but, then again, if it was truly about emotions and hearts and feelings and people, would she have not ended it with something along the lines of ‘you’ll find it within yourself’? Buer had clearly stated it was something physical – something to be found within the city itself. And assuming that this assumption of his was correct, perhaps she had meant a place that represented a heart instead…?

Ah, he’s sure he’ll get it eventually.

And at least this excursion gave Director Hu Tao a grand opportunity to kick him out of the office.

Though he had believed her to be happy, at first – because she had always commented that she had just been longing and leaping for an excuse to kick him out, as the hours he had insisted working on were very slowly creeping them against one of many Liyue’s countless unfair labor acts – she had also admitted to him that she felt very conflicted, about the whole thing. She had seen him cry for the very first time, in all the days and the months and the scant years she had known him, and she said she felt as though leaving him alone to travel to Sumeru City without any accompaniment was akin to “throwing him out to the wolves”.

She was worried. She was anxious. She was afraid. She didn’t want to feel as though something bad would happen if she left him all to his lonesome, but she kept feeling that anyway.

“I mean, sure! You’re an old, dusty piece of wood,” she had remarked, “but you’re my old dusty piece of wood! Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Ah.

Ever a brat, to the end.

But he did his best to assure her he’d be fine – he wasn’t planning on doing anything drastic, and he certainly didn’t feel completely and utterly awful about the whole thing, he was simply caught off-guard. A momentary lapse. And besides – this would be a great opportunity for a short, little vacation and it wasn’t too far, regardless, just a skip across the pond, as they say. Sumeru was their other neighbor, after all.

So, he goes to Sumeru City, only to find that he’s still having trouble with the riddle, before he bumps into someone, on accident.

He looks down.

Ah.

Alhaitham!

A scholarly contact he’s had several runnings with, usually met while on business trips on behalf of the funeral director; a sharp man with a sharp mind, and one he delighted to engage in debates with. He seems to be doing well.

“I’m surprised to see you here this time of year. It feels a little early,” Alhaitham remarks, raising an eyebrow. “Might you have any business today within The Akademiya? Anything I could help you with? I just had a meeting with the General Mahamantra and I am in dire need of someone who can actively participate in engaging conversation.”

Zhongli chuckles. “My, was it that miserable? I had heard he was a good man.”

“He’s an insufferable man, you mean,” Alhaitham sighs. “At least Kaveh gives you good reactions when you argue with him. Cyno just stares at you until you do what he wants.”

“I see,” he nods.

“So, did you need anything?” Alhaitham asks him.

“Oh, nothing too important,” Zhongli explains. “I’m just here on a little sight-seeing trip, but an old friend did send me a riddle I’d like to solve. However, I seem to be having difficulty with it. Would you like to accompany me for a short while? We could try to solve it together.”

And so, he ropes Alhaitham into trying to help him solve this strange riddle as they walk all over Sumeru City, simultaneously catching up and being stumped at such a confusing piece of wording that even his most intelligent, scholarly contact couldn’t think two ways around it, besides the obvious – which was a surprise, because this was Alhaitham! The man considered himself so precise and so logical and so factual, he might as well be comprised of a mechanical library. Zhongli would have assumed he, out of all people, would be able to figure out what he could not…

“Perhaps we need to ask this Cyno,” Zhongli jokes.

“Please don’t,” Alhaitham sighs.

“… You know, you seem quite happy today,” Alhaitham comments. “And yet, quite sad as well.”

“Sad?” Zhongli perks up, a little curious.

“Your eyelids are slightly puffy,” he responds. “And the corner around your eyes is red. And no, I’m not talking about your make-up,” he chuckles.

Zhongli chuckles, too. “Ah, well – yes, I suppose I did have a rather strong reaction this morning when I opened her letter. It was… surprising, to say the least. It seemed so innocent to have caused something so strong to just well up from inside me. Rather odd, wouldn’t you say?”

“Is she a rather old friend?” Alhaitham inquires.

“Yes… very old, indeed,” Zhongli nods, musing softly. “It has been many years since we last spoke, nevermind sending letters…”

“So, is it possible that you simply missed her more than you had previously thought?” Alhaitham ponders.

“She is still here,” Zhongli states. “And Sumeru is not far from Liyue.”

“But it’s still entirely possible to miss the way a person used to be,” Alhaitham states. “It is entirely possible to miss the time you two had spent together, just as it is possible to be fondly nostalgic over a city you still reside in. If it has been many years – as you claim – since you had last spoken with her, it’s entirely possible that many things between the two of you have changed. In fact, I think it’s highly likely that they did. You’re most likely not the same man that you were when you were younger, after all. And she is likely not the same person she was when she was younger, too.”

“And you have not changed?” Zhongli teases.

Alhaitham chuckles. “I like to believe that I have. Nothing stays the same way forever, but nothing can change the past. And I think you missed that past with her, friend. From the few discussions we’ve had over the subject, I’ve noticed you are quite fond of reminiscing over ‘what used to be’.”

Zhongli laughs. “Ah, I suppose you’re right. When I had opened her letter in my office, it felt like a true return to form – even if I can’t quite seem to be able to solve this riddle yet.”

“I think that you will,” Alhaitham smiles. “You’ve always been able to figure it out. And who knows? Perhaps you really will find it within yourself, what she has been longing to tell you all this time. I should get back to The Akademiya – I have another meeting in an hour.”

“Be well,” Zhongli nods, as he sees Alhaitham off.

As they part ways, he is left all alone, as he takes a seat on an old bench, and looks up at the sacred, large tree that encompasses the whole of Sumeru City.

Perhaps you really will find it within yourself, what she has been longing to tell you all this time.

Zhongli laughs to himself.

Ah, yes.

How the time seems to pass him by…

Finally, he’s returned to the city she had loved so much, she had destroyed her entire being to save it, sitting underneath that very same tree that they would all gather around to chat, so, so many years ago; surrounded by all the same sights and all the same smells and all the same sounds of the nation she’d swore she’d protect, with all the same people with all the same clothes and dreams and aspirations – he’s finally returned to the place she had so greatly loved above all and yet, he’s never felt more alone and more distant from her than he does at this very moment.

He doesn’t blame her, of course – he’d never blame her, for they had all to resort to heinous, drastic acts during that time (himself included) and he could never fault for her decision, it’s just – 

She should be here right now.

She should be here right now, laughing about a new riddle she had just thought up of, dancing along the city streets; she should be here right now, next to him, teasing him over what he could not figure out. She should be here right now, as they go to drink coffee in that new café they had opened, just around the corner. She should be here right now, fighting over who gets the last spoonful of Padisarah tea. She should be here right now, laughing at him. She should be here right now, smiling at him. She should be here right now, but –

But instead, he’s sat in a city, all alone, with a riddle he cannot solve. But instead, he is merely facing with the silence of the late morning breeze rustling through the canopy, and the emptiness that came with memory. Chasing phantoms of people who were no longer here.

…

You let a woman make you weak.

He laughs.

That’s what he used to say to himself a long, long time ago, wasn’t it? Back before Guizhong had entered his life, and shortly after.

You let a woman make you weak.

Ah, well – youthful ignorance will remain as it always will be: youthful, and ignorant.

Perhaps if he waits a little bit longer, she’ll show up suddenly, and she’ll explain the riddle to him and they can giggle and laugh over what he had so crucially missed. Perhaps if he waits a little bit longer, they’ll drink tea again and bicker over the last crumbs of panipuri.

Perhaps if he waits just a bit longer… 

But, ah – 

Hasn’t all he ever done so far

Was wait?

And as he sits there and reminisces over the past he’ll never have again, he hears a commotion up in the distance.

As he looks upwards, he sees the vague figures of about three people, all of varying heights – a tall one, a medium one, and a very short one – all distantly chittering and chattering about… food, it sounds like, and the general conversations that come with knowing many different things about someone else.

He smiles. He thinks it sounds nice; he thinks it sounds lovely. He thinks they could easily be a close friend group, or even a family – brothers and sisters, cousins and aunts and uncles. A pair of lovers, even, with their little one in-tow. But as they grow closer and closer, he slowly realizes that…

They are most certainly friends, but they were –

… They were his friends.

They were his friends, his fellow archons, in the flesh.

There was Venti, whom he had not seen in many ages, smiling happily and eagerly chatting away, so strangely bereft of the faint, cloying scent of wine and instead bequeathed with the scent of pine and wood and the forest; And there was Buer, right beside him, so tiny and so small and so different, with such a distant look to her eyes, fiddling with her fingers. And then, there was… Beelzebub, who was leading little Buer by the hand and dressed - very oddly, he had to admit. A pastel kimono? Makeup? Hair disheveled and slightly loose?

(The few times they had met, she seemed like such a practical woman – this is not how she would normally dress, he thinks.)

Eventually, the small party comes to stand before him, just as surprised to see him there as he was to see him – all except for Buer, he suspected – and he swallows, as he stands up, too.

… It had been more than a thousand years since so many archons had stood together in each other’s presence; it feels odd and sad and miraculous and joyous and tragic, all at the same time. He feels as though he should be inviting them for tea at an old restaurant in Liyue, he should be hearing Venti laugh at his own stupid jokes and Buer laughing along with him, and though Beelzebul would claim she did find his antics “funny”, Zhongli had known more than once how she could smile at him. They should all be sat under the tree and drinking an aged wine, but they’re standing here instead. They’re standing here instead, and…

It seems like Venti is the only other one capable of fully taking in this historic moment, as he smiles sheepishly and gives him a tiny little wave, swallowing his fears and his worries and anxieties. It had been long since they last met, after all – but if he had it his way, he would say it’s been barely any time at all.

“… Hi,” he squeaks out.

“Hello,” Zhongli replies warmly. “It is good to see you again… old friend. Though, I am surprised to see you here in Sumeru. The scent of wine surely couldn’t have led you here.”

And Venti hesitates for a moment; he holds onto his breath, as vibrant verdure eyes begin to water, as he stands there, not knowing what to do or what to say for once – truly speechless, unlike his typical antics. But it only takes a moment for his face to break out in a large grin, to give him a wide smile and to laugh the loudest he’s ever heard him, as he runs up to him and holds him tightly.

“You – you blockhead!” He shouts happily, hugging him tighter. “The first thing you say to me and it’s just another rude comment! Are you going to call me a disgrace to the arts too, old man?”

“It’s because you are a disgrace to the arts, bard,” Zhongli smiles, hugging back just as tightly. “Though, I am thankful you aren’t drunk yet – it means I won’t have to clean up your messes anytime soon.”

“You’re so mean to me! We might as well be enemies,” Venti chuckles, not wanting to let him go.

And if Zhongli is honest…

He doesn’t want to let go, too.

He had thought that the wind was never to return to his side again; he had thought that he’d never get to see his old friend in the flesh again, so determined, Venti seemed, to avoid him. And he had stopped himself from wanting to chase after him, because what would chasing the wind accomplish? He could run and run until he reached the ends of the earth and the depths of the sea and the last of the sky and he’d still have no chance of catching him, no matter how badly he wished to see him again. So, he had stopped hoping, because hoping made him sad and bitter but –

But here he was.

They met again.

They met again, and there is nary a dry eye between the two of them.

Beelzebul smiles softly, as Buer gives them a little wave.

And after a few more moments, they break away, with Venti laughing still and scratching the back of his neck.

“… So, what are you doing here in Sumeru, anyways?” He asks. “Did your boss need you to fetch something?”

Zhongli chuckles. “I could ask you the very same thing – last I checked, you were not fond of Buer’s abstinence from alcohol.”

“Ah, well – she asked me to help with the aranara,” he explains. “So, I came here to help! What’s your excuse?”

“I received a riddle in the mail, and I took it as an excuse to take a break from my duties at the parlor. The Director was very happy with me leaving for a day trip for once,” Zhongli chuckles. “Something about labor laws and disputes – I wouldn’t have the faintest idea.”

Venti laughs. “Oh, shut up! Like you, of all people, wouldn’t know the laws of Liyue! You made them! But hey – since you mentioned a riddle, have you solved it yet?”

“No, I’m afraid that’s the issue,” Zhongli sighs. “I haven’t been able to make heads or tails of it all day.”

“Let me see it,” Venti asks, as Zhongli scrounges up the letter from his pocket. “… Oh, this is a tough one! Are you sure it’s not talking about a heart?”

“But the last line suggests it’s something physical, and I had gone with Alhaitham to every physical place that could represent a heart that we could think of, but we found nothing…” Zhongli explains. 

And after a small bit more of some quaint, faint chatter amongst themselves, Beelzebul summons up to the courage to approach him slowly, appearing before him with a tiny and a short and a small and a quaint little bow. He bows back to her, of course, and she briefly mutters that she would very much prefer they all “catch up” in a much more private area, feeling anxious and worried and exposed. Zhongli agrees, as Venti takes Buer by the hand, and leads them to a little alcove in the middle of one of the more smaller alleyways he’s ever been in, hidden away underneath a glass archway decorated with several kinds of plants and flowers and roses, as Venti sets Buer down on the small, wooden bench and as Beelzebul stands at the entrance, her back toward the wall.

With a breath, she relaxes.

And she smiles softly, as she looks toward him. “… Mr. Zhongli. That is what you go by now, correct?”

“Correct,” he nods. “And you?”

“I am Mei,” she says. “For now.”

“… And you could have not imagined a more… distinctive name?” Zhongli sighs, trying not to judge.

“That’s what I said this morning!” Venti sighs, exasperated. “Seriously, it doesn’t even have to be something that long! Something like ‘Yuki’ would have been perfect!”

She glares at Venti, swallowing down harsher words. “No, I couldn’t. I had only just received the letter from Buer yesterday morning, and I wanted to stick with someone I could more easily remember…”

“Ah, yes. Simple does work best for you,” Zhongli hums. “And the outfit…?”

“It was Miko’s suggestion,” Beel explains. “She had said that storming into the capital as the Raiden Shogun would cause unnecessary hassle. This is a spare from one of her shrine maiden’s older sisters. It was the only one that would fit me on such short notice.”

“You do look nice,” he says.

“Thank you,” she smiles. “You look nice today as well.”

“And me?” Venti butts in, with a mischievous grin.

“… You do not reek of alcohol,” she hums. “Good.”

“… Is that really all you have to say?” Venti frowns, mock offended. “What did I ever do to you guys to make you so mean to me?!”

“Exist,” Beelzebul retorts, and they all laugh together.

(All except… Buer.) 

“… Enough of the pleasantries,” Beel states as she steps forward, after a little while of casual conversation and catching up. “While I had wished for this matter to remain private, I see I have no choice but to announce it directly at this point.”

“Buer,” Beel says as she looks toward her, with a determined expression. “When can I see Kunikuzushi?”

“… See who?” Morax inquires, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah, who’s that?” Barbatos parrots. “This wasn’t mentioned in my letter.”

“It was not written in mine, either,” Morax comments.

Beel sighs, crossing her arms. “It was not written because it was none of your business to begin with.”

“… But, he was a byproduct in the creation of the Raiden Shogun,” she softly explains. “I had wanted to see if I could create a body that would be resistant to the erosion of this world, and that could also house my consciousness. I had thought of it holding the gnosis as well, but I wanted nothing to do with Celestia after The Cataclysm. I eventually succeeded in my goal, but he had… come first.”

“… He would cry in his sleep,” Beel whispers. “Every night, I would hear him slowly weep into his pillow. Like… she did. I knew then that this prototype of mine that I had created could neither withstand the threat of erosion or the weight of the gnosis I held. I decided to seal him away to keep him safe. Due to... recent events in Sumeru, I can…. I can see now that I have failed.”

Nahida suckers in a breath.

“Ei, I’m – I’m not sure if keeping him locked up was the… best of decisions?” Barbatos sighs, awkwardly. “You really couldn’t have done anything else? You couldn’t have… sent him to live with someone or…?”

Beel shakes her head. “No. Miko wanted to be rid of him as soon as possible. She had insisted he was a terrible idea and that we should simply ‘do away with him’ and sweep it under the rug. And I – I couldn’t bring myself to harm him…”

“Geez,” Barbatos sighs again. “I mean, I knew she was cold, but… wow, you know?”

“She is a kitsune,” Morax offers up simply. “Human morality often bears little weight on her outlook.”

“Regardless of the circumstances, I feel like I owe him,” Beel states. “And if he has truly been asking for me while under Buer’s care, then… then I felt like I was obligated to come. I do not know if I cannot comfort him, truly – I don’t know what words I should say. But at the very least, I can see him, can’t it?”

“Can’t I?” She asks her again, pleading. “Is he alive? Is he awake? Is he safe?”

“… Safe, yes,” Nahida nervously mentions, biting her lips. “Awake – yes and no. He’s been in and out of it after he was taken out of his shell.”

“Did they do anything else to him?” She asks, worried.

“… I really don’t know,” Nahida says quietly. “I only know of what I told you about in the letter. If something else happened, he hasn’t told me, and I have no knowledge of it.”

Beel sighs, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “… But it’s likely he was further hurt, wasn’t he?”

“Judging by how badly he wanted the gnosis after I took it away, I’d say… yes,” Nahida mutters. “He was most likely very hurt by the Fauti. And by you.”

She takes a breath. “Then, that is all the more reason why I should go see him. While it was very nice to catch up with the two of you, I need to see him.”

Barbatos nods. “No problem! We don’t mind waiting… or going!”

“If we leave together, we are not going out to drink,” Morax reminds him.

“Aww, but why not!? I mean, if it’s just going to be the two of us, it’s not like we’ll be bothering Ei and Buer! It’ll be just like old times!”

“I said no – “ 

Slowly, the constant bickering between the two old archons begins to fade away; the distant noises of the city, the swaying of the trees, the late afternoon sun that shines warmly down on her face – all it seems to be stretching further and further away as Beel stands before her and the exit to this nightmare, waiting on her word to be taken up to the sanctuary. To see Kuni, as she affectionately calls him, for he has no doubt forgotten his original name. To her beloved creation, who has hurt so, so many other people.

Who, in the end, only desires to hurt her –

“Please tell me I have a chance to make things right,” she pleads before her, lowering herself to her knees. “Please, Buer – you’ve hardly said a word all this time….”

“… He does want to see him, doesn’t he…?”

The pressure had been surmounting all day.

The pain had been evolving; her nerves had been fraying at split ends. She had been running from this confrontation all morning long, as her knees – weak and trembling – shake under the hawk-like gaze of Beelzebul, who had kept staring at her like an animal whilst she held onto her arms, trying so desperately not to crush her bones in two. And she doesn’t really think Beelzebul wanted to hurt her – she doesn’t think Beelzebul wanted to make a scene. Nahida just thinks she couldn’t control herself; just as Nahida had been unable to stop her lies.

And now, here comes the truth.

And now, here comes the truth; Beelzebul wants answers Nahida can’t give.

And now, here comes the weight of all those tiny and little and small and gigantic and huge and humongous likes that come down to bear hard on her tiny and small and fragile shoulders, like starving animals just before a hunt, claying at her skin and bones for their meal. And now, here comes the weight of all those lies in the wake of a sorrow so great, it could not have a name. And so, here comes the music, the time for Nahida to confess. And wasn’t it funny? She’d thought she’d feel the most dread at this very moment, she’d thought the tar would ooze from underneath her skin, she’d sob and she’s cry out but –

But she’s calm.

But she’s calm, she supposes. She doesn’t think she feels much. Maybe she’s just…. waiting. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Beelzebul to cry and scream and sob.

… She had told herself that lying was easy.

She had told herself that all she needed to do was to make the lies come true.

And maybe, she could have; maybe the riddle she had given to Morax could have been made with a clear answer in mind. Maybe she could have waited until the Aranara were truly saddened by the depths of this world, maybe she could have come up with someone else, maybe she could have waited until she was actually threatened, but –

But this?

She –

She can’t.

She can’t lie to herself any longer. And she can’t lie to Beelzebul, either.

Nahida has to face the reality that Scaramouche does not, did not, and would never want to see Beelzebul ever again. He had made it clear who he was -a puppet abandoned by his creator, a creator who had deemed him “not good enough”. A mind that cannot be changed; a vase that cannot be unbroken; a pain that refuses to be mended. He only wanted to hurt her. He only wanted to hurt himself. If she decides to take Beelzebul up to her sanctuary to see him, he’d –

It’d be bad.

It’d be bad, and there would be no way to fix things.

She knows she can’t make him change his mind. Maybe if she had a little more time, maybe if she knew a little more about her past, maybe if she knew a little more of Beelzebul’s side, but even then –

The effort would be pointless, wouldn’t it?

He doesn’t want to see her again. Ever.

She can't change his mind.

“… No,” Nahida shamefully admits, shaking her head.

“… What?” Beel says faintly, blinking in disbelief.

“…. The answer is no,” she confesses, a little louder. “He doesn’t want to see you again. He – he never did.”

Beel takes a shuddering breath, her lips quivering, as she slowly rises to her feet and takes a step back.

“… You lied to me?” She asks incredulously, in the tiniest voice she’s ever heard. “Buer, you… lied?”

Nahida swallows.

“Yes,” she says quietly. “Yes, I did.”

“… I figured as much,” Barbatos sighs, closing one eye. “… You lied about the Aranara too, after all. They weren’t sad or unhappy or in desperate need of my help. There was no strange sadness on the wind. The village was fine.”

“So, I suppose it would be only correct to assume that this riddle was made confusing simply because there was no correct intended answer, yes?” Morax asks calmly.

Nahida nods. “Yes. I didn’t make it with an answer in mind. I’m sorry. I only told you to come here to Sumeru City so I could see you. I… don’t have anything important to say.”

“I see,” he sighs. “What a shame.”

And there, Beelzebul stands quietly, her hands tightly grasping at her chest as an anger from deep within her body shimmers on the surface of her skin. But it’d be wrong to say it was only anger – it was sorrow, too. It was sadness and grief and devastation, as teardrops being to fall from her eyes as she keeps her head down, not wishing for the others to see. Barbatos attempts to comfort her, attempts to reach out a loving hand, but she merely shoves him away, throwing him against the wall.

“Ei, wait! What are you – “

And there, she stands before her, with a stare full of vile and a snarl full of spite, biting at the bit to tear her flesh asunder.

“… I should cut you down where you stand,” Beelzebul threatens, her lips still trembling. “You had no right to do what you’ve done. When you took him into your care, did you look inside your little tree to find information on him? Did you pester anyone you could with your inane questions about matters that absolutely did not involve you? Did you figure all of this out, figure out how much he meant to me, in order for me to do just as you wanted?”

Nahida swallows, taking a step back.

“Answer me, Buer!” She cries out, a clap of thunder roaring in the distance. “Or will you deign it appropriate to keep lying to my face!?”

“I – I,” Nahida stammers, her eyes watering. “I asked Lumine where he was from and I thought – I thought you wouldn’t come here if he didn’t want to see you, so – “

“… So, you used him in order to get to me,” Beel says, eerily quiet and calm, as a storm rages in the distance. “You took every ounce of suffering we had and you used it up for your stupid, petty little games. And you thought this was okay. You had no issue with lying to me about a matter so great I would have cast down the heavens if I needed to.” 

“I thought I had a chance to repay him,” she cries softly, a sob caught in the back of her throat. “I know I cannot change the past, and I know there is nothing I can do to make things right, but if he was asking for me, I thought – I thought there was at least a way I could help him. And now, I find that’s all a lie. Just what were you expecting to happen, Buer!?”

“As the god of wisdom, I expected better from you,” she spits. “I can’t believe you would do something so heinous, I – I can’t look at you.”

“… Do not ever summon me again,” Beel snarls. “Do not call upon me, do not send me more letters, I will not answer them. You can do whatever you like, but I refuse to be toyed with.”

“Ei…” Barbatos mutters, trying to get up.

“Miko was right,” Beel whispers, broken. “This was a waste of time. Goodbye.”

And shortly after the confrontation, Beelzebul runs, disappearing into the city as the atmosphere turns heavy and the skies grow dark, lightning flashing between the cracks in the clouds. Fearing the worst, though in pain, Barbatos chases after her, leaving only her and Morax behind, standing awkwardly in the alcove, as the leaves above them shake as the winds begin to pick up.

Why did it all have to come down to this?

Why did she feel the need to lie?

Why did she have to ruin everything over such a stupid assumption?

And now, only the oldest of the gods remains, simply looking at her with silent disapproval, no sound uttered between two of them, except for the sounds of the scattered leaves and the roaring thunder.

And then, he sighs, as he looks up at the treetops.

“… I sincerely wish we could have met under happier times,” he starts out, softly and slow. “Earlier, I had sat on a bench not too far from here, and I had reminisced on our times together. I had remembered all the riddles you have given me. I had remembered how you would laugh at my stumped expressions. I had remembered how, afterwards, we would always go hunting for the latest, most exotic teas. And I had remembered how eagerly we had fought over the last scraps of food on the table, and how you had won, every time.”

He smiles at the memory, the corner of his eyes crinkling, before it fades away, and he sighs.

“Buer, why did you feel the need to lie to us? To all three of us?” Morax asks her. “Just what did you think you would accomplish?”

What if they think she’s not good enough? What if they think she’ll never be good enough, that she’s just some useless, worthless, stupid little girl who should have been left to rot where she sprouted, good for absolutely nothing, a sham, a disgrace, a mistake, we should have left you where we found you if we knew how much you would have failed our nation, how dare you call yourself our god, you’re nothing more than a child who should have –

“I – I thought you wouldn’t want to come see me,” Nahida stammers, as she confesses. “I thought you wouldn’t want to come see me, because you’d think I wasn’t good enough. That… unless there was a problem that needed to be solved or I had something you wanted, you wouldn’t want to come.”

“And was it worth it, in the end?” He asks. “Lying to us?

Nahida slowly shakes her head. “No. No, it wasn’t worth it.” 

“Buer, let me make this clear,” Morax scolds her. “If we were unable to come because we had other obligations to fulfill – most especially Beelzebul, as she is still actively ruling her nation – then that is something you would have had to accept. I will not fault for you for wanting to meet us, and for wishing that we could spend time together. But I will most certainly fault you for not only lying to us, but believing that we would think so little of you we would never come at all. What have we done to make you believe we would hate you, Buer?”

She doesn’t respond.

“… And as the god of wisdom,” he continues, “you should have foreseen the amount of damage you would have caused by lying to Beelzebul about the boy you have under your care. While she cares for him greatly, despite the missteps in their personal relationship, I doubt she would have come here had she known the full truth of the matter, and I don’t doubt you knew it, too. You used that relationship in order to get her to arrive in Sumeru, didn’t you? Judging by the expression on your face when Beelzebul began pleading.”

“… Yes,” Nahida shamefully admits.

“On the day I had first met Barbatos, he had come flying in, with a bottle of dandelion wine,” Morax briefly muses. “I had asked him if there was a problem that needed to be fixed or if there was a threat he was currently under, and he had simply laughed at me. He had come without calling and without warning and without messenger, simply to tell me that he wished to become friends. It was a stupid, foolish decision. But it had hurt no one but his pride – and I doubt he had cared – and he had not lied to me. He was sincere. Just childish. I suppose he hasn’t changed a bit.”

Nahida swallows.

“I do not know Beelzebul personally, but I do know the stories our fellow traveler friend tells of her,” Morax comments. “Beelzebul is volatile. She cannot handle her emotions well, and this was a matter very, very close to her heart. This could have ended very, very badly. The storm brewing on the horizon is the least of your worries, I imagine.”

He sighs, about to take off. “… I shall be taking my leave to go see her. I do not trust Barbatos to handle her on his own, and I fear the damages she might start causing. I will attempt to soothe over what I can, but know I will not apologize to her on your behalf. You need to face the consequences of what you have done, and you need to face her yourself, should she decide to stick around to hear it. Be well, Buer, God of Wisdom. Try not to catch cold. It can be awfully chilly this time of year."

And so, he walks off….

Leaving Nahida completely and utterly…

Alone.