Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Why had Kaeya been chosen for this mission- out of everyone Father could have picked, why did it have to be him? Kaeya was not particularly strong, or fast, or skilled with a blade, nor was he talented in Abyssal arts like he was expected to be. He was clumsy and froze too easily, he showed too much weakness, and he wasn’t good enough for something this important.

Besides, he was pretty sure he’d already failed.

Father had given him very clear instructions. Kaeya was to walk down this path until he came across a family living nearby, then integrate into the household and gather information. Simple. So he did as he was told, even when it began to drizzle and soak his clothes. Surely it couldn’t be that far of a walk. But then he saw some slimes and then they saw him, and by the time he lost them he was all turned around and he didn’t know where he was anymore. It… didn’t look the same though. Father had left him in a forest, with big trees that were real and little glowing flowers. This place had towering stalagmites- no, they were mountains, right?

He’d been told about them, and the grasslands, and the deserts, and of snow. But he barely learned a thing about the surface world from Father, who was more interested in pounding combat techniques into him. No, it was that older boy… what was his name? A… it started with an ‘A’, didn’t it? Kaeya didn’t remember, not very well. The boy from his memories was hazy and out of focus, the only things the Khaenri’ahn could remember about him were his smile, the freckles smattered across his cheeks, and the stories he told. Even if Kaeya only managed to sneak away a handful of times, he cherished those stories.

It was from that boy- his… friend, he supposed, that he learned that the surface world had a name; Teyvat. It was his friend who taught him the names of all seven nations, his friend had told him tales of his homeland. It was a place even colder than the caves he’d grown up in, where water froze like an Abyss mage had touched it and gathered on the ground in heaps of tiny crystals.

It was he who told him about the weather and sun– it was like a star, but bigger and brighter. How cool was that? And it was his friend who told him about the plants that grew there- plants just grew there! On their own!

Teyvat had sounded so pretty when he listened to his friend’s stories. Now he knew the other boy wasn’t lying just to entertain him. He liked it up here.

Kaeya wanted to see snow the most, but mountains were pretty cool too, he guessed. He didn’t think he was where he was supposed to be, though. Father said it was a short walk, but he’d been on this path for a while now and had yet to encounter a single person. He just hadn’t been able to get past those slimes and even if he was sure he could now, he didn’t remember which direction they were in. He refused to give up though, eventually he had to run into someone. Even if it wasn’t the people Father wanted him to find, something was better than nothing.

Kaeya looked up at the sky, squinting through freezing rain to study the clouds. Were they darker than before? Was night falling or– a strong gust of wind abruptly slammed against him, interrupting his thoughts and almost knocking him off his feet as he struggled against it. Why did the air suddenly feel so solid?! It didn’t make any sense. Letting out a sigh, he raised an arm in an attempt to keep the wind from hitting his face and forced himself to press forward. The wind, however, never quite abated. It seemed to push harder against him as the rain grew heavier; tripling its efforts to drown him. Okay... maybe Teyvat wasn’t that pretty. At least the caves back home never drenched him like this. But... they also came with mages that were a little too happy to zap him so… he’d take this instead.

Kaeya continued down the path, ignoring the chill creeping into his bones. It was fine, he’d lived through worse. A little bit of bad weather was preferable, honestly, to his endless training.

Father would be angry. Nothing good ever came when Father was angry, Kaeya knew that better than most. The last time he’d been disappointed… Kaeya could still feel the phantom tremors of Electro in his limbs when he thought too hard about it. It was his fault though. He should’ve been faster, stronger, better than he was. He should have been the son he was expected to be.

So then why had Father chosen to send him, of all people, on this mission? He wasn’t fit for it, not when Father kept raging about his failures. Was he just supposed to die– end up like the hilichurls that used to be his people? Was he really that useless? No, he had to try. Father entrusted this mission to him so he must be worth something, surely. Maybe once he completed it, Father would finally be proud of him. Kaeya was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed when the path split, following the sharp curve to the right onto a smaller less traveled path. It was only after he heard a distinctive “YAAH,” and the sound of approaching footsteps that he realized his mistake.

Kaeya’s head snapped in the direction of the sound, eyes wide with panic as the hilichurls approached. He must’ve wandered too close to a camp, but how? He’d been following the path, hilichurls were supposed to make camps further away– he wasn’t on the path, not the same one. It was too narrow and there was too much shrubbery. Had he really strayed that far away? His panic swelled and for a split second Kaeya froze. He didn’t have a weapon, he couldn’t defend himself without one. The Khaenri’ahn’s eyes scanned the ground, searching for something, anything he could use. He knew it was a bad idea to take his eyes off an opponent but he didn’t have a choice- there.

The blue-haired boy darted forward, snatching a sturdy-looking stick up off the ground. It wasn’t perfect, but it was about the same size as the sword he trained with and it was far better than nothing. The moment it was in his hands, Kaeya spun around and assessed his opponents. There were two, no, three of them. One with a club- already approaching, what looked like a mage, and another with a crossbow. As if on cue it shot at him and the Khaenri’ahn just barely leaned out of the way, the arrow flying so close a feather grazed his cheek. He wasn’t out of danger though, not yet. Using his momentum Kaeya jumped out of the way of the club, then raised his weapon to parry the following swing. While he achieved his goal of creating an opening, the stick shattered on impact.

Maybe it wasn’t as sturdy as he thought. The hilichurl recovered fast, swinging at his head again, and Kaeya was forced into a roll to avoid getting hit. As he came out of it, his hand found another stick and he picked it up. It was longer than the first, and heavier. There was no way he was swinging it around with any semblance of accuracy with only one hand. Unless… He needed a weapon if he was going to fight back. Kaeya adjusted his grip, sliding his hand towards the middle rather than the end. Even if he was weak and clumsy and failed at every task put in front of him, he could still win this fight.

Suddenly a blue-tinted glow surrounded him and Kaeya yelped, throwing himself into a teleport to avoid the unknown attack. He dropped out behind the clubbed hilichurl and thrust the end of his weapon into its back, knocking it a few feet away where it ate the mage-hilichurl’s attack.

Before he could think about a next move, Kaeya found himself leaning back and to the right as another arrow whizzed past his face, with another already flying through the air towards him. That one, too, was dodged with a smooth flip. He took one step, then whirled around at the sound of more yelling and footsteps as a new wave of panic slammed into him. Then he cried out in pain as a third arrow lodged itself in the back of his left shoulder. Kaeya stumbled, catching himself only because the end of his stick lodged in the muddy earth beneath him, and choked back a sob. Worthless- he couldn’t get even this right, and now more of them were coming. Their battle cries rang in his ears and stars they were going to kill him–

No. Kaeya wouldn’t die here, he couldn’t. He wanted to live, even if Father didn’t think he deserved it, even if he didn’t deserve it. No one else was going to step in and save him, not this time, so it had to be his choice. And Kaeya Alberich refused to die.

A clubbed hilichurl, perhaps the same one from before, leaped forward and swung at his head again. Kaeya moved as soon as he saw it, but it was too late. It was already upon him, so close he could pick out each crack and scuff in its mask and he just needed it away-

Anemo burst in the space between him and the monster, knocking it back. Even some of the other hilichurls seemed to slide back some, though he wasn’t paying much attention. His focus was all on the blinding bright glow of… a Vision? No. No no, he couldn’t have one, how was he supposed to complete his mission with Celestia watching him so closely? What if they brainwashed him, then Father really would kill him. He’d be a traitor to his home, he had to get rid of it.

Kaeya snatched the stone up, only to throw it directly into the head of an approaching… stars, that thing was huge! How did a hilichurl even get that big? The Vision tinked off the side of its mask and it didn’t even slow it down. At least he was rid of the cursed stone but now all he had was his stick, and could he even fight that? The big hilichurl advanced on him, axe in hand, and raised it to swing. Kaeya braced himself, reaching for a teleport he knew he didn’t have in him, because he never had enough energy for two, and stared down his imminent death with all the courage he could muster.

But it never came. Instead, a streak of Anemo slammed into the side of its head and suddenly a person was there, teeth bared in an angry snarl as they plunged the end of their polearm through the monster’s skull. Kaeya fell to his knees, suddenly unable to hold his weight even with assistance, as the new person yanked their polearm free and disappeared in another whirl of elemental energy.

The hilichurls never stood a chance. In a matter of seconds, each was struck down. The only evidence they’d been hit was a streak of teal and purple dancing between them followed by a flash of jade before they hit the ground and though Kaeya never got a good look at what they were doing, he was entranced by those colors. It was almost enough to distract him from the screams of pain.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the world fell quiet and all he could hear was the rain.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Xiao dropped to the ground with a sigh of relief, dismissing his polearm with a wave of his hand. Now where was it… ah, there. Xiao turned, walking the handful of steps to a brightly glowing Vision on the ground, and picked it up. Then he paused because this was a Liyuen Vision, an Anemo Liyuen Vision. He’d seldom come across another Anemo Vision, especially in Liyue, and it had been centuries since the last. So to find one now…

Well, no matter. He should get this one back to its owner. Xiao turned again, this time to face the boy kneeling in the mud. The adeptus tilted his head to one side, momentarily lost in thought. He looked… young. What was he- six, maybe seven years old? It was difficult to tell, Xiao was never very good at guessing the age of mortals, but for a child so young to obtain a Vision of any kind was unusual. And while Visions were not inherently negative, he couldn’t help but remember the last time a child had received one within Liyue’s borders.

And Anemo was hard on its allogenes. He would know better than most.

Furthermore, he was injured. That arrow appeared to be buried deep and needed medical attention sooner rather than later. Humans were not like adepti, even one wound could be enough to cut their already short lives down further.

Xiao was suddenly jolted out of his musings when the child let out a shuddering breath and asked in a strained tone, “Why?”

Oh, right. Staring was rude. He made a quiet hum-chirp sound and approached, crouching in front of the boy and holding his Vision out to him. “Here. This is yours.” Of all the reactions he could have received, Xiao was not expecting his hand to be knocked to one side, launching the Vision several feet away while the child scrambled back with clear fear on his face. Strange.

In the blink of an eye, Xiao teleported to the elemental stone and picked it up again before returning to his place in front of the boy, this time kneeling. He made sure to keep his distance though, maybe he was just a little scared. Again Xiao held out the Vision and said, “Child, it is your Vision. You need to take it.”

If it was at all possible, he seemed to react even worse to that and visibly recoiled, eyeing his Vision with clear distrust. Xiao made to move closer but was stopped when the child spoke- er, well, yelled, “IT’S NOT MINE!” The force of his voice startled the adeptus and he paused, eyes wide. Before he could think to do anything else the boy continued, his voice quieter but no less fierce, “It’s not mine, it can’t be. I don’t want it!”

For a moment neither said anything, and Xiao couldn’t help but notice how the fledgling shook. He looked scared, terrified even. After a second longer he dropped his hand, smothering the Vision’s glow in the curl of his palm. “My apologies. I should not have pushed.” When the child didn’t respond Xiao shifted uncomfortably. It was wet and cold and actually, why was there a child out here alone? Why had he been close enough to a hilichurl camp to be in danger in the first place, why was no one close by to protect him? Clearly whoever was supposed to be in charge of him was doing a terrible job, he was already injured! Didn’t mortals know how to look after their fledglings?

He needed to get this fledgling out of the rain. It would do no favors for his recovery, and something needed to be done about that arrow. It’d be easiest to take him back to Wangshu Inn, but… he wasn’t trusted. There was no way he could just pick the boy up and carry him there, not yet. Xiao was bad at talking to people, he was worse at earning their trust. But he had to try. Seconds ticked by as he considered his words, trying to select the right ones that could get him even one step closer to getting both of them out of this storm. Finally, he settled on, “My name is Xiao. What may I call you, little one?”

At first, he thought he might not get a response. It wouldn’t surprise him, after all, Xiao had very clearly terrified the fledgling. He could be patient though. The adeptus waited, still as a statue while a series of emotions flashed in the child’s periwinkle eye. Finally, he spoke, voice quiet and soft, “Kaeya.”

The sound was barely louder than the pounding rain, but Xiao was still able to pick up on it. “Kaeya,” he tested the name on his tongue, tilting his head to one side again. A lovely name, but not Liyuen. Truth be told he wasn’t sure where it originated. Perhaps… no. He could contemplate it later. Xiao mentally shook himself, banishing his stray thoughts so he could focus. Maybe… maybe if he explained who- or rather, what he was, it would help. Granted, he could be wrong, but the benefits outweighed the negatives. Either he got Kaeya’s trust or he didn’t.

“I am an adeptus of Liyue,” he started, “and I protect the people of this nation.” When trepidation still shone in Kaeya’s eye he added, “I will not hurt you, little one, I promise you that.”

Kaeya’s gaze still held trepidation, even at Xiao’s assurance that he would not be harmed. Was it the wrong thing to say? Archons, what was he supposed to do? Had Morax had this much trouble with him, all those millennia ago? Surely not… actually, his lord probably had it worse. At least mortals couldn’t teleport.

Focus. He wasn’t making any progress, and Kaeya was still terrified of him, how was he supposed to–– suddenly lightning struck nearby, illuminating everything in a ghostly white-blue for just a moment before thunder crashed around them. In a heartbeat, he found Kaeya curled in his lap and clinging to him tightly, shaking with terror and cold in equal measure.

Xiao’s first reaction was to pull away, unused to anyone holding on to him, but no, this was what he wanted. Hesitantly, the adeptus wrapped his arms around Kaeya, though he tried to avoid his back out of habit. When the fledgling’s grip loosened slightly and he stopped shaking so much, Xiao let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Maybe… maybe he’d made a little progress after all.

Okay, they had to get out of this rain. Xiao quickly clipped Kaeya’s Vision around his waist and stood, pulling the fledgling up with him and trying not to jostle his shoulder too much. A teleport would be easiest, it was faster and safer, he wasn’t sure how long that arrow had been lodged in Kaeya’s shoulder and every second counted. But what if it scared him, what if it brought him right back to square one and then he couldn’t treat the child’s injuries?

He had to do it, if it scared Kaeya then he could deal with it back at the Inn. The only warning he gave was a distracted, “Hold on tight,” before reaching for another teleport and disappearing with a swirl of Anemo.

They dropped out of the teleport in the middle of the top floor room at Wangshu Inn and immediately Xiao regretted not explaining what he was doing a little more. He stumbled, nearly falling over because tiny arms were wrapped around his neck and exerting more force than had any right to in a mortal that small. The adeptus made a desperate sound and tried to pry him off, “Kaeya– Fledgling, let go-”

Suddenly the pressure was gone and Xiao no longer felt like he was in imminent danger of being choked out. He took in a deep breath, steadying himself on the bedframe with one hand while rubbing at his throat with the other. Okay, the kid was stronger than he looked. Speaking of…

Xiao looked up, scanning the room until he caught sight of a blue head of hair and sighed. The fledgling had managed to scramble halfway across the room and wedge himself in a corner and… Xiao couldn’t actually blame him. It was stupid not to explain so yeah, his fault. He unclipped Kaeya’s Vision from his waist and set it on the nightstand, then got within a few feet of the fledgling and sat down on the floor.

“Fledgling,” he started, “Kaeya, I apologize for scaring you. It was not my intention to do so, I should have explained better.” When he received no reaction other than a distrustful look, Xiao glanced up and tried to think of a way he could regain the trust he just lost with his stunt. Silence stretched between them for several seconds before Xiao finally broke it with a sigh. “I… know you do not trust me,” he started, “and you have every right not to, Fledgling, but please, allow me to take care of your injuries.” He glanced at the arrow again, a flash of concern in his eyes before he continued, “I would prefer to get them cleaned before they become infected.”

“What are you going to do?” Kaeya’s voice was small, wary, and for a moment Xiao thought he was imagining it. He’d gotten used to the fledgling’s hesitance to speak, so it was a bit of a surprise that he answered so readily.

He thought about jumping straight into an explanation, but he knew there was a first aid kit somewhere around here… perhaps it would help to show him as well. “One moment,” Xiao got up and tracked around the room, digging through drawers and opening cabinets in an attempt to find it. It took longer than he would have liked, but he did find it, hidden underneath the bed of all places. It was far back too and forced him to crawl half underneath to pull it out. Xiao reclaimed his spot on the floor across from Kaeya and set the kit between them.

Taking another breath Xiao prepared himself to at least try explaining this. “I am going to use the contents of this kit to treat your wounds– whatever they may be. That arrow… is the most important, so I will start there. It will hurt,” Kaeya’s eyes flashed with a note of fear and he quickly added, “but I will try to be fast. Can you trust me enough to do that, at least?”

After what felt like an eternity the fledgling nodded, crawling out of his little corner toward Xiao. He stopped a foot away from the kit resting between them and asked, “Can I see what’s in it first?”

The adeptus nodded and opened it, revealing a neat array of nearly untouched supplies. Xiao rarely used it himself, it had been a long time since he had been seriously injured in battle. Most of the wounds he sustained were not physical anyway.

Kaeya studied them for a moment, then seemed to relax a bit. Xiao shifted, reached out, and then stopped himself short. “May I begin?” When the child nodded, finally Xiao moved properly. This time, he told Kaeya everything he was about to do, just in case the fledgling freaked out again. If possible, he wanted to avoid that. The adeptus tried to be gentle while cutting away the fabric of Kaeya’s shirt. Hm. He’d have to find a replacement– even if it wasn’t cut to ribbons, the shirt was frayed and torn, stained with blood and mud. No one should be forced to wear anything like that.

Now for the painful part. Xiao took a breath, then said, “I am going to push the arrow through your shoulder. This will hurt, but will be over soon.” Once Kaeya nodded he started, sliding the shaft of the arrow through the fledgling’s shoulder as quickly as he thought was safe. Once the arrowhead exited the other side, he broke the feathers off and pulled it the rest of the way through.

Kaeya’s gasp of pain made Xiao’s stomach churn, but he knew that sometimes, it had to get worse before it got better. Dropping the broken arrow off to the side, Xiao pulled some antiseptic out of the kit and began cleaning the wound, trying to be as careful as he could. While he worked, Kaeya made another pained sound and tensed, holding his upper arms in a death grip. The adeptus knew it hurt, things like this always did, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to make the fledgling suffer much longer. Once he’d cleaned it as best he could, Xiao began packing the wound with gauze. Then he used the last of his bandages to wrap it up before dropping his hands and letting out a relieved sigh. “There,” he breathed, “done.”

Now that the hard part was done, the adeptus took the opportunity to get a read on any other injuries Kaeya might have. The fledgling had a few more fresh scrapes and scuffs- a few crescent shapes carved into his arms where he gripped them too hard earlier, what looked like an irritated patch of skin on his cheek, and some scuffed hands, but nothing he couldn’t get cleaned and bandaged. What had him worried was the older marks. Kaeya’s body was riddled with bruises and cuts, most of which were half-healed and angry looking. They didn’t seem infected but… no happy and healthy child would sustain injuries like these. Xiao glanced over at the first aid kit. He was running out of supplies- he’d only agreed to have one in the first place to appease Morax, so it was small. He never thought he would have to use it.

Bandages were the most pressing item. Xiao was pretty sure he had enough of everything else to squeeze by, at least for the night, but he was completely out of bandages. Perhaps Morax had some… but what would he do with the fledgling? It wasn’t like he could just leave the kid here, not without anyone to keep an eye on him, and taking him into Morax’s abode was entirely out of the question.

…Actually, maybe there was someone he could ask.

Xiao tilted his head, then pushed himself up. He checked to make sure the windows were secure, glancing out over Guili Plains as he did so. It would only be a few minutes. Turning back to Kaeya, he returned to the child’s side and finally spoke again. “Little one, I will be leaving,” when Kaeya whipped around to look at him, panic flashing across his features, Xiao added, “It will only be for a few minutes… fifteen at most. I assure you, Fledgling, I keep my word.” Though the boy still looked uneasy, he did eventually nod and Xiao pat his head once before disappearing in a swirl of Anemo.

The adeptus didn’t go very far though, instead dropping out before Wangshu Inn’s front desk. The woman behind it looked startled, but not entirely unsurprised. Good, he didn’t need her asking a thousand questions. She offered a polite greeting, then asked what she could do to assist him. Xiao barely waited for her to finish, then said, “Watch the fledgling for me,” and looked up towards the room he’d left Kaeya in.

She followed his gaze, then started to speak. “Oh-” he didn’t wait to hear what she said though, instead jumping straight to his actual destination; Morax’s abode.

Xiao dropped out of the second teleport with practiced ease and immediately started moving. His lord shouldn’t mind if he took a few necessities, and he’d replace them later. Besides, his fledgling took priority, Morax could punish him later and that would be perfectly fine. Just as long as Kaeya was safe. So off he went, first searching for fresh bandages. It took longer than he would have liked to find them, but eventually, he found a whole kit comprised of bandages in different sizes and lengths tucked neatly in a cabinet. Kaeya needed new clothes too… at least for the night. He was not about to allow a fledgling to sleep in dirty clothes.

Morax was significantly larger than Kaeya, so Xiao didn’t bother with finding anything but an oversized shirt. If he tied it right… Yes. This would do. He set it, neatly folded, on top of the kit.

He was about to leave, but then it occurred to him that he wasn’t sure when the bed sheets were last changed. His fledgling couldn’t be sleeping in a dirty bed, better to change them entirely. He set the other items down, then started searching for fresh sheets, leaving every fruitless cabinet and doorway wide open so he knew not to check it again. Finally, he found where they were kept, but none seemed to be a correct fit. Maybe in the back? Xiao tore through the side closet, knocking stacks of fabric aside until he came across a set that looked correct.

Ah, but he needed blankets to go with the sheets, otherwise his fledgling would freeze, and he couldn’t have that. Without skipping a beat Xiao snatched up an extra blanket or two from the closet, then decided that wasn’t enough and trotted over to his lord’s bed. He eyed it for a moment, deciding what he could take without getting into too much trouble, then grabbed a few softer ones off the top. While he was there, he also grabbed a few pillows. His fledgling would like those, surely. Xiao even thought about… no. He couldn’t take the comforter, no matter how comfortable it looked. Even he knew that was a little too far.

Instead, he returned to his things and contemplated how he was to get all of this back in one trip. He tilted his head again, narrowing his eyes as he thought, then eventually settled for wrapping everything in one of the bigger blankets so there was no risk of anything falling out. A handful of minutes later, his bundle was ready and Xiao was about to leave when he stopped.

Oh why not, he could take that too. Xiao reached over, pulling Morax’s comforter off the bed and adding it to the pile before he vanished in a swirl of Anemo.

When he returned to the Inn, Xiao wasn’t sure what to expect. He was wholly unprepared for the little fledgling, who had previously been so wary, to be curled up and soundly asleep on the bed. His decision to grab replacement sheets appeared to be the correct one, then.

The adeptus quietly separated out the different things he’d brought back, piling the blankets and sheets in neat stacks off to one side before approaching Kaeya and reaching out to gently shake him awake. As much as he’d love to let him sleep, Xiao needed to get the rest of his wounds cleaned and wrapped. As soon as he touched the child though, Kaeya was up and moving, scrambling away and staring wide-eyed.

Xiao paused, then murmured, “It’s alright, Fledgling, it’s just me.” This time, thank the Archons, Kaeya seemed to actually relax a little. “May I treat the rest of your injuries?”

The boy dropped his gaze, refusing to even look at Xiao, much less his face. After a moment he asked, “Why? I’m not– it’s not really worth wasting supplies on?”

That… was concerning. Who in Teyvat had put such a notion in his head- that he wasn’t worth the resources? Xiao knew that mindset far too intimately not to recognize it, but what could this child possibly have done? Xiao was… he had too much blood on his hands, he had killed too many innocent people. Xiao was responsible for countless deaths, he’d been the one to eat their dreams, drive them to the brink of insanity- and he was still repenting for his sins, but Kaeya? Kaeya was innocent.

The fact someone had warped his worldview so much already made Xiao’s blood boil. He wanted to hunt them down, break them as they’d so clearly tried to break Kaeya, his little fledgling, and watch them writhe in pain like the worm they were. Instead, he held onto his composure. Rather than allow anger to seep into his voice, Xiao remained calm and said, “You are always worth it, Fledgling.”

It didn’t look like Kaeya believed him, but then, Xiao still didn’t quite believe it when Morax told him the same thing. It was just… Xiao had skeletons in his closet, but Kaeya did not. And if it were up to him, he’d rather keep it that way.

Luckily, the fledgling still went along with his wishes, inching closer until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Xiao smiled softly, he’d take what he could get. The adeptus rested a hand on Kaeya’s head, “Stay right here for a minute, Kaeya, I’ll be right back.” He just needed to get a few more things.

Xiao moved quickly, taking a bowl of warm water and a washcloth from the bathroom, then bringing the new bandages and antiseptic closer. Once everything was set up, he carefully held his fledgling’s arm and, after confirming that Kaeya was unlikely to freak out, began washing away the dirt and blood. Thankfully, there wasn’t much of the latter.

Each time he cleaned the area around a cut or scrape, the adeptus applied some antiseptic and bandaged it, that way they stayed clean. It took a while to complete since he was doing the same for half-healed cuts as well, but finally, he worked his way up to Kaeya’s face. The mark on his cheek, though irritated and angry, didn’t seem to be open. He wiped it clean but otherwise left it alone. He almost stopped there, but then decided to check the other side, the one his fledgling kept covered.

Xiao gently pushed the hair away and paused when Kaeya flinched at the action. Was something wrong? He didn’t look injured, but… It had been a long time since he’d seen eyes quite like Kaeya’s. He’d grown used to the left one, a periwinkle blue with a whole galaxy trapped inside, but his right was a sparkling gold. Kaeya held his gaze for a moment longer, then dropped his eyes. He looked… afraid? Was he ashamed of his eyes?

The adeptus stared for a moment longer, then hummed and backed off, allowing midnight blue locks to fall back in front of Kaeya’s eye. “Done,” he said, “if you would like to change, you may wear this.” Xiao handed him the shirt, “I apologize that it is too big, but it should service for the night, at least.”

Hesitantly, Kaeya took the shirt and trotted off to the bathroom, presumably to change. In the meantime, Xiao got to work on his other task. He tore at the bedsheets, pulling them off the bed and heaping them in a pile near the door. One particularly stubborn corner even got an annoyed hiss out of him when it refused to budge on the first yank.

Once it was completely cleared, the adeptus started replacing them with the fresh sheets he’d borrowed from Morax. It took a bit to get everything in order, but soon he had the bed reassembled, this time looking significantly more comfortable. Xiao eyed the pile of discarded sheets. He could take them out to the hall, but that looked like more effort than he was willing to put in. Instead, he flopped down on his back with a sigh, closing his eyes and allowing himself to just relax.

Then, a minute later, he heard the bathroom door open. It seemed his fledgling had finished figuring out the shirt situation, but the adeptus didn’t open his eyes. Instead, he stayed perfectly still and just breathed. Kaeya pattered around the edge of the room, then stopped and Xiao picked up the sound of fabric falling. He assumed, based on the location, the boy had dropped his discarded pants somewhere. Then the pattering picked up again and this time came right up to the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped and then suddenly Kaeya was next to him. Xiao opened his eyes.

His fledgling was right there, mismatched eyes wide, and he looked about ready to bolt. Before he could, Xiao reached over around him and grabbed a loose blanket, pulling it around Kaeya’s shoulders. “Get some rest, Fledgling. You look like you need it.”

Xiao had thought that maybe- just maybe this might calm his child down. Instead, his fledgling looked about ready to cry. Xiao sat up, propping himself up with one elbow. “Kaeya?”

His voice strained, quiet, and confused, Kaeya mumbled, “Why… are you being so nice to me?”

That… was not a question he’d been expecting, but at least it was one he could answer. Xiao considered his words for a moment, then replied, “I suppose… it is because I was once like you.” At his fledgling’s surprised expression, he added, “Not everyone will be out to hurt you, Fledgling, even if it seems like they will.”

Still, Kaeya seemed unsure. After a moment Xiao reached out, brushing blue locks out of his fledgling’s face. “Go to sleep, Kaeya,” he asked, “you’ll feel better in the morning.”

This time, his fledgling didn’t say anything more. Instead, he scooted closer, flopping down on the mattress and cuddling up against Xiao’s side. The adeptus stared for a moment, then wrapped his arms around Kaeya, running his fingers through blue locks.

His little fledgling was out in a matter of minutes.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Xiao woke to the sound of birdsong outside his window. Normally he found it a little annoying, but today… it wasn’t so bad. He yawned, then a thought crossed his mind. When had he fallen asleep? It hadn’t been his intention… but then, it hadn’t been his intention to procure a child last night either.

Well. He better do something productive now that he was awake. Kaeya’s bandages would need to be changed soon, and he’d need to find him something to eat. He’d likely be in a lot of pain too, once he woke up. Maybe that qingxin tea Morax kept sending him could help with that. He couldn’t really do much until his fledgling woke up, and he hesitated to wake him. Maybe he could just go get some food from the kitchen and bring it up? But what could he give to a child?

For Xiao, most foods upset his stomach, and the rest were downright repulsive to him. His knowledge of the dietary requirements of a mortal fledgling was therefore severely limited, and he hesitated to feed him only almond tofu. Xiao might be able to survive off the sweet, but he doubted many others could. Then his eyes lit up with an idea. Kaeya was a fledgling… wait, no. He was human, not a bird but… maybe? No no, it was better he didn’t, his fledgling was probably too old for that anyway.

Well, he’d have to guess, then. Maybe there would be some clues if he went down to the kitchen and at least then he could make that tea. So Xiao moved to get up, except… he couldn’t. Upon further inspection, he found Kaeya clinging tightly to him, and for someone who was clearly asleep, his grip was strong.

The adeptus tried all manner of escape, from carefully inching his limbs out to trying to pry himself free. None succeeded. In the end, Xiao had to sacrifice one of Morax’s pillows to facilitate his escape, and even then it only barely worked.

Upon earning his freedom, Xiao smoothed out the wrinkles in his clothes and sighed softly, then quietly teleported down to the kitchens, where he started boiling some water for tea and rummaging around for something that looked halfway edible. He didn’t get too far before the chef drew his attention away, mumbling a quiet, “Here,” before practically shoving a tray full of food in his hands. He looked down, studying the contents. The largest plate was filled with various things Xiao either didn’t care for or had never wanted to try. It had eggs and toast, along with sliced apples, sunsettia chunks, some orange wedges, grapes, and a handful of other fruits he didn’t recognize. It all looked edible… he set it aside so he could fill the teapot he’d picked out with hot water.

The chef looked like he wanted to say more but… Xiao had more pressing things to worry about, and conversations were never his strong suit.

He then promptly turned on his heel, grabbed the tray of food and the rest of his tea set on the way past, and walked back upstairs. He could dig out that tea now, and get some steeping. Only when he got to the door… he had no hands. Xiao stood there for a minute, trying to solve this problem. Perhaps he could kick the door down…? No, terrible idea. He liked having a door, it meant no one could just stare into his room. Then how to get inside…

Oh. Right. He could teleport. Xiao promptly disappeared in a swirl of Anemo, leaving no trace he was there at all.

When he reappeared in his room, Xiao was surprised to find Kaeya awake. He’d half expected his little fledgling to still be asleep, all things considered. He didn’t let his surprise show for too long though, instead setting the tray of food on the nightstand. “You may eat whatever you wish,” he said, walking over to a table in one corner of the room so he could get the tea steeping, “the tea will be ready soon.”

When he turned back around, Kaeya was sitting on the edge of the bed, munching on an apple slice. Good, at least he was eating something. After a few minutes of silence, Xiao poured them both a cup of tea and brought them over to the bed, setting one on the tray and keeping the other for himself. “Qingxin tea,” he clarified, “it should help with the pain.”

Silence fell between them again, with Xiao sipping his tea and Kaeya picking at his breakfast. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just peaceful, and his fledgling didn’t seem to mind. After a few minutes, he lowered the cup to his lap and asked, “Kaeya, may I ask you about something?”

The boy flinched almost immediately and Xiao almost rescinded the question altogether. Before he could though, he took a deep breath and nodded. Xiao swallowed, then spoke again, “Your Vision. Why didn’t you want it?”

“It’s not mine,” Kaeya snapped, and his voice was almost cold, desperate in a way Xiao wasn’t expecting.

“If it’s not yours, then whose is it, Fledgling?”

Kaeya completely shut down at that, pulling his legs up to his chest and pointedly looking away. His silence was an answer in and of itself, though, so Xiao stopped pressing. Instead, he added in a soft voice, “A Vision is a part of your soul. Even if you never want to use it, it would be wise to keep it with you. I would not like to see you lose your ambition, Kaeya.” Predictably, his little fledgling didn’t respond, but that was okay. Xiao would still be here when he was ready.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

The rest of the day passed quietly, with Kaeya spending the majority of it asleep. Xiao was perfectly happy to let him rest, seeing as it would no doubt aid in his recovery, but he did find out that his little fledgling seemed to have a sixth sense for when he left the room for any period of time. It meant monster hunting was suddenly out of the question. So he stayed, trying to find new ways of occupying his mind.

Around sunset, he woke his fledgling, putting another tray of food and tea in front of him while he worked on unwrapping, cleaning, and rewrapping all his wounds. It was good to see he had a relatively healthy appetite, at least.

After he’d eaten, Kaeya insisted on dragging Xiao into bed, under the false impression that the adeptus needed to sleep right this second as well. He allowed it though, because if it meant his fledgling got rest, it was worth it.

Now, said fledgling was curled on his chest, wrapped in blankets and dozing peacefully while Xiao hummed a soft melody. He felt… relaxed. It was a sort of peace and quiet he rarely let himself have, what with all the monsters there were to fight, all the karma he’d accrued over the millennia.

Xiao’s heart nearly stopped.

His karma. How had he forgotten about it? He couldn’t keep Kaeya, his fledgling, because if he did he’d be condemning him to a short life of pain and misery. But how could he let this child go- who could he possibly trust him with? His birth family was out of the question, given the bruises, the cuts and scars, and Kaeya’s reactions to kindness, to receiving help- there was no doubt in his mind that this poor fledgling had been abused. But Xiao could not look after him. Even with a Vision, a blessing from Celestia, his karma would eventually seep in.

It would kill his fledgling.

Xiao’s anxiety swelled and he let out a low, desperate whine. He couldn’t. He couldn’t give him up. There were so few people in Teyvat he knew could raise a human child, even less he trusted with someone as precious as his fledgling. But what other choice was there? He pulled his fledgling closer, wrapping his wings around both of them and blocking out the world.

Think. He needed to think. Perhaps he could give him to another adeptus, many had taken in a human on at least a few occasions and there he was guaranteed to be safe and cared for, but there was every chance his little fledgling would grow to hate him. However, if Xiao kept him, Kaeya would succumb to his karmic debt sooner rather than later and that was worse.

He released a shuddering breath, letting the calm space provided by his wings calm his nerves while he rationalized that no one he truly trusted would hurt his fledgling, because they hadn’t hurt him all those centuries ago. It’d be fine. He’d be fine, and so would Kaeya.

Xiao breathed, in and out.

Morax.

Morax could help him- would help him, and he’d never dare hurt Kaeya. His lord had the means to raise a child, wouldn’t poison them with his very presence, and he’d done it before. Besides, Morax lived more closely among humans these days more so than any other adeptus- aside from Madame Ping. If anyone was equipped to raise a human, surely it would be him.

And, unlike with certain other adepti, Xiao could be certain Kaeya wouldn’t be turned against him.

Come morning, he would take Kaeya to Morax and ask him to raise the child in his stead. The god had done a good job with Xiao himself, he’d do perfectly well with his fledgling. He’d bask in Kaeya’s trust for now, then mourn having to give him up as the sun rose.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

When morning finally came, Xiao hadn’t slept at all. He was too anxious, too worried about how best to convince Morax to accept Kaeya. Logically he knew he shouldn’t be this worried, his lord was kind and cared deeply for the people of his nation. He would help in any way he could, but it didn’t help the anxiety as much as it should.

He put off waking his fledgling. The longer he stayed asleep, the longer Xiao had with him. Oh, how he wished this could be the rest of his eternity. If only he didn’t have to pay his karmic debt, if only he could shield even one person from its effects. He’d protect Kaeya for the rest of time if he could.

He couldn’t wait forever though, the sooner he got to Morax, the sooner he’d be safe. Xiao pushed himself up, gently rousing Kaeya. “Fledgling, it’s time to wake up. Are you hungry?” It was sure to be a little jarring, meeting the prime adeptus and all, but having something in his stomach should help. Kaeya was having absolutely none of it though. Despite his best efforts, no amount of reasoning or coaxing worked and eventually, he gave up. Xiao wasn’t about to push his luck, he still wanted Kaeya to like him after all this.

However, that meant he had even less time with his fledgling, and Xiao was dreading what came next. He didn’t want to give Kaeya up, he wanted to keep his perfect little fledgling here with him, not let someone else raise him– Morax was fine, great even, but what if he hurt Kaeya? What if he never got to see his fledgling again? What if-

No. He needed to stop thinking. Xiao took a deep breath, then turned to Kaeya. “Do you remember what I did to get us here two nights ago?” The child nodded and Xiao continued, “We’re going to do it again, to meet a friend of mine.” He picked Kaeya up, settling him on his hip, “Are you ready?”

When Kaeya nodded, Xiao grabbed the Anemo Vision off the nightstand, clipping it to his waist, then braced himself. Then he teleported before he could second guess his decision. Again.

Xiao dropped out of the swirling Anemo and nearly stumbled. He wasn’t quite used to the extra weight of a child yet, but at least this time he wasn’t getting strangled. An improvement. Cooing softly to soothe his fledgling, Xiao approached the rock wall in front of them, running his hand over the rough stone. Morax’s abode was just in front of them, now all that was left was to request entry. He sent a pulse of Anemo through the rock. Normally he would have bypassed this step altogether since his lord was familiar with him, but Kaeya’s presence complicated things a bit. It usually took a minute or so for Morax to grant a request like this, so at least he had time to-

Xiao’s fingers hadn’t even left the wall when Geo thrummed under his hand. Had Morax been expecting him? Well. So much for waiting. He entered the abode, trepidation lighting his eyes. If his lord truly had anticipated his arrival, what did that mean for him? What did that mean for Kaeya? The last thing he wanted was to scare his little fledgling, but if Morax was as furious as Xiao thought, that might not be possible.

Still, he pressed forward. Best not to keep a god waiting. The adeptus rounded exactly one corner before he saw said god hurrying in his direction, and that had him on edge. He was about to say something, anything to appease his lord, but Morax beat him to it.

“Xiao,” the word was rough around the edges, desperate in a way that was distinctly unusual. Morax closed the distance and reached for him, but Xiao took a step back, turned to keep his body between the god and Kaeya, and hissed a low warning. No one touched his fledgling, not until he approved.

To his surprise (and satisfaction) Morax backed off, instead hovering a few steps away. Silence stretched for several seconds and Xiao could feel his fledgling tense, burying half his face in his collarbone. Finally, his lord spoke again, “...Very well, come with me then.”

The god started back the way he’d come, and Xiao followed. The path was a familiar one; for all he rarely stopped by these days, Morax’s abode was still a familiar place. Even if it wasn’t, following his lord was, which meant he didn’t really need to pay attention to where he was going. Instead, he turned his focus to Kaeya.

His fledgling seemed terrified, and that worried Xiao. Absentmindedly he ran his fingers through Kaeya’s hair, cooing softly in an attempt to soothe him. If it helped the adeptus stay calm too, then that was no one’s business but his. Though- Morax kept glancing at him, kept giving him strange looks. It was weird. He’d never seen the Archon act like this and it was difficult to tell if it was a good or bad sign. Rather than dwell on it, he decided to refocus on the abode itself.

Morax’s abode was as grand as ever, each wall decorated with a seemingly never-ending series of murals, but Xiao had long ago gotten used to it. Kaeya, however, seemed rather impressed if the way he kept peeking at them was any sign. He stared at each one they passed, no doubt trying to figure out the story behind them, as they walked through stone corridors. It was adorable, and Xiao would love to stop and let him stare longer, but his request to Morax was pressing and if everything went well, his fledgling could stare all he wanted soon enough.

When Morax finally stopped walking, it was in the sitting room. While his lord took a seat, Xiao remained standing and instead continued running his fingers through Kaeya’s hair. His fledgling still seemed so nervous… perhaps Xiao’s own anxiety was rubbing off on him?

“What is this about, Xiao?” When he spoke, Morax sounded tired. Still, his golden gaze was just as piercing as ever and Xiao didn’t miss the way he lingered on Kaeya for just a moment longer than necessary.

“I have a request,” he started, “this is… I found him– Kaeya- I can’t-” Xiao faltered, unable to bring himself to say it. Kaeya was his fledgling, he was supposed to protect him, and yet…

He took a breath, then tried again. “I came to ask if you would look after him for me. I- I am too dangerous. My karma will kill him and I-” Xiao’s voice cracked and he looked away, holding Kaeya that much closer.

Morax’s expression remained unchanging, still as stone aside from his piercing golden gaze flickering between Xiao and Kaeya. Once again the Anemo adeptus’ anxiety swelled. He knew Morax would judge him fairly, but he couldn’t help but worry he would refuse.

If that happened, he might never see his fledgling again.

Finally, Morax closed his eyes and sighed, “Very well. If that is your wish, I will raise Kaeya as you have requested.” Then, the god stood and took a few steps forward. "I am Zhongli, but you may call me Yéye if that is easier."

Xiao blinked in surprise, and he had half a mind to argue, but a sharp look shut him down before he could get the words out. Instead, he pulled his fledgling a little closer, pressing his nose to the top of Kaeya’s head. It was better for Kaeya, it was all for him. He took a breath, then murmured, “Be good for Morax, okay? He’ll be looking after you for me, little one.”

He closed the distance between himself and Morax, desperately ignoring the way Kaeya clung tighter and tighter with every step he took, and extracted himself from the child’s grip so he could hand him over. With his hands now free, the adeptus unclipped Kaeya’s Vision from his waist and gave it to the child.

“Kaeya, my little fledgling,” he murmured, “please, keep this with you. It’s protected you once, it’ll protect you again.” For a moment, Xiao considered telling Kaeya to call him if he needed him. But he knew, if his fledgling called, that he would answer in a heartbeat and he would never, ever let him go again. Because Adeptus Xiao was weak. Weak to this tiny little fledgling that in less than two days carved out a place in his heart.

Xiao took a step back and looked at Kaeya in Morax’s arms. He looked so small next to the Archon, like he’d shatter in a particularly stiff breeze, and Xiao warred with the urge to take Kaeya, his fledgling, back.

And then he was gone.

Chapter Text

To say Zhongli was having a “rough day” was very possibly the understatement of the century. Two days ago, his abode had been raided while he was gone and several items had been taken, with Xiao’s energy signature saturating the air. It wasn’t wholly unusual for the adeptus to stop by every so often and borrow something he needed but didn’t have on hand, but when he’d found that bandages were among the missing items…

Xiao was not often hurt. It had been centuries since he sustained more than a scrape or two. Even then, he had a first aid kit at the Inn. For him to go out of his way to get more of something he already rarely used- Zhongli had thought Xiao was dying.

He tried looking– tapped into the earth and searched every corner of Liyue with stonesense, but Xiao was avian. It was more than likely he was nowhere near the ground, and if he wasn’t touching it… a connection to Geo, no matter how strong, was useless. Perhaps he could have simply gone to Wangshu Inn and checked the top floor, but if Xiao wanted help then surely he would’ve gone to Ping if nothing else. If he hadn’t then the only logical answer was that he was fine. But what if he wasn’t?

What if he really was dying?

That thought had only furthered his panic and had sent Zhongli into such a furious, terrified frenzy that the control he kept over his physical form began slipping from his grasp. Patches of scales bloomed across his skin and his nails had turned to claws, he had even nicked his lips and cheeks on more than one occasion as fangs tried cramming in a mouth far too small for them. That was why he, the Lord of Geo and Archon of Liyue, had confined himself to his abode.

It had not helped that the yaksha was entirely unresponsive to his summons.

Zhongli had never quite been comfortable with how readily Xiao responded to his beck and call. It was unnerving, a mark of his past that he was still angry with himself for not recognizing before Moharus had already been killed. He could have dealt with the other god sooner, rather than playing defense. If he had, would Xiao have suffered so much? Could he have saved the yaksha years of suffering if he had only acted sooner? It was one of the many regrets he had from the Archon War, just another tally against him in an ever-growing list. But what else could he have done? How could he have known what would happen to a person he had never met?

The answer was he could not. He had people to protect and yaksha to worry about. Had he taken a more aggressive stance, had he dealt with gods in any other way, there was every chance he could have overstepped and lost everything. It was his defensive strategy that won him the war, perhaps he might never have met Xiao to begin with if he had done anything differently.

It didn’t make what happened to him any easier to accept.

And now Xiao was not answering him. It had been two days- two entire days of silence from his last yaksha- and every second of it had crawled by at a snail’s pace. The only reasonable explanation he had was that Xiao simply could not, and that implied the adeptus had been immobilized in some way– but that had to be impossible. Almost no one was faster than Xiao, who even exhausted and malnourished had faced off against two of his yaksha millennia ago. He had only gotten stronger since then, it was not possible.

(Or maybe it was, but Zhongli could not bear to think like that right now)

Buried so deep under the comforting stone and so far lost in his own mind, Zhongli nearly missed the pulse of elemental energy at his domain’s entrance. That signature was unmistakable though– Xiao was alive. Celestia above he was alive. It was a simple matter to teleport back to the surface level, granting his yaksha entry even before he’d fully materialized again, and then he strode down the last few corridors to greet him. With every step that brought him closer, the Geo Archon felt the scales that had once rippled across his skin settle and disappear as his system flooded with relief. The claws and fangs finally retreated for good and he finally felt like he might be slightly presentable.

Just in time, too, because mere seconds later, Zhongli rounded the last corner and finally laid eyes on Xiao.

His only initial concern had been to verify that Xiao was uninjured; which he appeared to be at first glance. The only difference the Archon could really see was that the adeptus looked a little more rested than usual, but that didn’t mean he was not injured and hiding it. After all, this was Xiao.

Perhaps that was why it took Zhongli so long to notice the child perched on his hip. By the time he truly had, he’d already reached for the adeptus, the younger’s name leaving his throat in a hoarse rasp, just to make sure he really was as okay as he looked.

That was a mistake.

Zhongli had not touched either of them, had not even moved in the child’s direction, and yet Xiao hissed at him. The avian adeptus hissed and turned, clearly putting his body between them with a downright deadly glare to boot. It was a clear display of protectiveness, it was a threat. Xiao did not want him touching the child. So he backed off because there really was no other option.

Clearing his throat, Zhongli spoke softly in an attempt to appease the adeptus, and get the three of them moving from the corridor, “...Very well, come with me then.” After that, he turned and headed back the way he had come, leading both of them down into the depths of his abode.

The existence of Xiao’s new child sparked more questions, though, because where in all of Teyvat had Xiao even gotten the child? He looked to be a hatchling, but by mortal standards… he was not actually sure. The only thing he really knew was that he’d never once seen him before.

Zhongli shoved his stray thoughts into a mental box, deciding he could ask about it when they were not standing in the middle of a hallway. Instead, he returned his attention back to his surroundings… only to realize that Xiao had turned the lion’s share of his attention on the hatchling, cooing softly as he soothed his little one. The Archon… had not realized he could make those sounds.

It was kind of cute, actually.

The hatchling was rather adorable himself, tucking his head under Xiao’s chin only to stare wide-eyed at the murals decorating each wall. He had an eye for artwork then, it seemed, and what lovely taste he had indeed. That’s why Zhongli just couldn’t resist sneaking glances at the pair, trying not to set either off in the process. He considered telling the story of each mural that caught the hatchling’s attention, but thought better of it. The child was drawn to far too many and the Geo Archon had a sneaking suspicion this was not exactly a social visit. It rarely was, with Xiao.

A few minutes found the unlikely trio in one of the sitting rooms of his abode, this one a little on the smaller side than he typically used to entertain guests. However, it was one that Xiao was familiar with, and better suited for those he considered family. The hatchling might be new to him, but he had a feeling he would certainly be seeing more of him… if the way his yaksha was acting was anything to go off of.

Zhongli could already tell this was going to be a rough conversation by the way Xiao fidgeted, so before he said a word he sat down. Resisting the urge to sigh and run a hand down his face, the Archon got straight to the point.

“What is this about, Xiao?” His voice was soft, a note of exhaustion creeping in despite his best efforts, but the words still drew in both Xiao and the hatchling’s attention. Only then did Zhongli truly get a good look at the child’s face, and what he was confronted with was the starry eyes of a people he thought long dead. His breath almost caught, and then the dragon ripped his gaze away and returned his attention to Xiao while the younger man spoke.

Upon hearing Xiao’s request to raise the child- Kaeya– for him, the Archon’s heart broke a little. It made sense. Xiao’s karma was chronic, it was dangerous even to adepti, much less mortals, but it was heartbreaking to rip the two apart.

After a long pause, Zhongli sighed. He hated having to do this, Kaeya was already so clearly attached to Xiao, and he knew it was just asking for problems to separate them at this point- but Xiao’s concerns were valid. His karmic debt was dangerous, and as of yet there was no way to cleanse it, despite the many attempts over the centuries. “Very well. If that is your wish, I will raise Kaeya as you have requested.”

This was a terrible decision. He had already attempted to raise a child once and how many times had he let Xiao down? How many mistakes had he made, how many would he repeat? But then… Xiao had come to him, had he not? Zhongli had long ago accepted that might never happen again, that whatever bond was forged during the Archon War had been torn to shreds. However, this proved that if nothing else, the avian adeptus still trusted him enough to ask for his help, and Zhongli did not want to break that trust.

More than he already had, at least. Perhaps there was some hope after all.

He stood, intending to properly introduce himself, then paused. How was he supposed to do that? There were many names to choose from, but… Morax was a name few knew him by anymore, and one that a descendent of Khaenri’ah may fear. The last thing he wanted was to scare the hatchling, so it was immediately disregarded. Rex Lapis was similar, more of a title than an actual name and even more closely associated with his status as an Archon. Zhongli was an option, but…

Xiao was like a son to him and Kaeya must be Xiao’s. Therefore, logic dictated that Kaeya was his grandson. They looked a little similar… though the hatchling likely took after his mother more than anything else.

For the first time in the conversation, Zhongli addressed Kaeya directly, “A pleasure to meet you, Kaeya,” he said, his voice light and warm in an attempt to ease the child’s nerves, “I am Zhongli, but you may call me Yéye if that is easier." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xiao pull a face, but once his attention switched to him, the adeptus suddenly dropped the look entirely.

Zhongli waited patiently as Xiao seemed to war with himself before finally bringing Kaeya to him, and though he could see Kaeya cling tighter and tighter to Xiao with every step, he stopped himself from insisting Xiao stay with him instead. This was the best option for everyone, at least until a new solution could be found. Logically, he could understand why Kaeya was so attached to him– Xiao was likely the first person the hatchling had met, it was only natural that he would be attached to the avian adeptus. Zhongli did his best to look away and tune out what was being said, doing what he could to give the pair as much time as they needed to say their goodbyes.

A few moments later Kaeya was deposited in his arms, and Zhongli frowned slightly at how light the child was. He was pretty sure human hatchlings were supposed to be a bit heavier. Perhaps he inherited Xiao’s lighter bones? It was possible, at least. He made a mental note to ask Ping later as he watched Xiao hand Kaeya what he only assumed was the little Khaenri'ahn’s Vision. That made things a little easier; he could key lights to whatever element Kaeya had. Then Xiao left without another word.

That would make things a little more difficult.

He had been hoping Xiao would at least stay while he took Kaeya on a tour of his abode, if only to help the hatchling transition to his new living situation. Of course things would not be quite so simple now, but he supposed he could call Xiao later once Kaeya was a little more settled.

“Hatchling,” Zhongli murmured softly to the child in his arms, who was suddenly shaking quite a bit more than he had with Xiao. Of course, nerves were to be expected, but with a little luck he would grow more comfortable with time. Chuckling softly he added, “Relax, Kaeya, I will not hurt you.” When the shaking only seemed to grow worse the Archon let out a soft breath and frowned slightly. It was clear that Xiao’s hatchling was afraid of him, which was… less than ideal, but he could work with it. He had after taking Xiao in centuries ago. Surely his- admittedly very limited- skills had improved since then. How hard could it be?

Although considering the hatchling’s fear, perhaps carrying him was not the best idea. Letting Kaeya walk beside him was probably the better option as long as the dragon slowed his pace to account for his size. But he was so small… it would be better if he was carried. The child in his arms shifted slightly, drawing the god’s attention– it was then he noticed that Kaeya was definitely wearing one of his shirts- well, that explained a few things from the other night. Not all of them, but certainly more than a few. But it did complicate things a little. However, he was getting sidetracked, and he could worry about getting his new charge clothing later. A tour of his new home was probably more important anyway, at least for the moment.

A few more minutes of thought led Zhongli back to his original conclusion that it was probably for the best if he allowed Kaeya to walk beside him. Letting out a sigh, the Archon set the star-eyed child down, offering him a hand if he wanted to take it. It was sad, but not surprising, that the boy did not.

“Come on, Kaeya, let me show you around,” the Archon said as he set off. He went at a slower pace as they moved deeper into his abode, recalling the little one’s interest in his murals earlier. He quickly grew lost in his own thoughts as he absentmindedly pointed out various rooms to the hatchling, promising to key the lights to his element at a later date. It really had been quite some time since he last had a child living in his abode, the last one being Xiao himself. So it was oddly fitting for Xiao’s hatchling to also end up living with him– albeit hopefully temporarily. Still, it made the Archon chuckle to himself as he glanced down to find Kaeya still at his side, staring up at a mural of the Liyuen countryside.

“This way now, Kaeya. I want to show you something I think you will appreciate.” He once again offered the little boy a hand; once again, the gesture was not accepted. Oh well, he had plenty of time to earn Kaeya’s trust, just as he had done with Xiao many centuries ago.

While he led Kaeya into the deepest parts of his domain, the Geo Archon fought with the urge to scoop the little boy in his arms. He was really far too adorable as he tried his best to keep up with the dragon’s longer stride. Zhongli smiled, his eyes crinkling slightly, before he slowed down even further. No wonder Xiao was so taken with the hatchling, he always looked at everything with such an expression of wonder. As though he had never seen anything like it before and– he supposed there were probably a great many things Kaeya had not seen, given his origins. The god’s smile faded a bit as he considered the reasons for that, but he tried not to let the hatchling see.

Finally, they came to Zhongli’s favorite mural, the one that told the history of the world- or at least everything from the several millennia he had been around to witness it. He could not help spending a few minutes just admiring his work before he looked down at Kaeya, only to find the hatchling was no longer by his side. The god gazed around the room for any sign of his ward, expecting him to have perhaps wandered further down the mural, only to find no sign. Then he glanced back at the mural, and it dawned on him why. This section depicted the Cataclysm– the Fall of Khaenri’ah.

The Geo Archon let out a frustrated growl. How stupid could he be? Would he never learn, never cease to make these idiotic oversights where the children in his care were concerned? How could he have forgotten his own role in the destruction of the people of Khaenri’ah, Kaeya’s people? No wonder the hatchling was terrified of him, he probably thought Zhongli was going to kill him, because of where he came from, because of who his mother’s people were...which could not have been further from the truth. Even if he was not Xiao’s hatchling, the dragon would never have hurt Kaeya. A child could not be responsible for whatever crimes his people had committed.

Kaeya… was just a hatchling, of how many years? It was so hard to judge, with mortals…but surely too young to have done anything wrong. He was just as innocent as the majority of his people had been when Celestia had called for their destruction, an order he had been unable to disobey, no matter how much he had wanted to. Zhongli let out a shaky breath before shoving his feelings away. He could mourn and marinate in his guilt later; right now he needed to find the scared Khaenri’ahn child wandering his abode alone. A child who thought Zhongli was going to kill him for something so far beyond what either of them could control.

As if he could bring himself to do any such thing. Zhongli was still haunted by the things he had done during the Cataclysm, by the innocent blood that stained his hands; and with his damned perfect memory, he always would be. The blood of far too many of the starry-eyed people of Khaenri’ah– had he killed anyone related to Kaeya? Was he a very personal family horror story, passed down through the generations? No, he could not focus on that right now. The safety of the child wandering his domain was more important- there were far too many ways a lost child could get hurt here, especially if he was incautious in his fear.

Finding Kaeya was not difficult, it was as simple as sensing the hatchling through the stone. No, the hard part was going to be reassuring a child who had absolutely no reason to trust him, and every reason to fear him, that he was not going to hurt him. As he made his way through the halls of his abode, the Archon took the time to remember everything he had been taught when Xiao had first come to live with him. It could not hurt to try at least some of those things with Kaeya.

The location Kaeya had chosen to hide made it even easier to call up those old memories, and Zhongli was smiling fondly by the time he reached the room. It seemed instinct or fate had led Xiao’s hatchling to his father’s old room. Xiao did not use it anymore, of course; he had his room at Wangshu Inn, now, and did not wish to interact with the Archon any more than necessary…but Zhongli had left it unchanged from the days when the he had lived there, just in case, right down to the element the lights were keyed to. He had even keyed the door to Anemo to match, to prevent anyone but Xiao or himself from entering the room and pawing through the things his yaksha had left behind.

He could not fail to notice the way the door to the room was open slightly, even if all the lights were off. That was interesting. Did that mean that Kaeya had an Anemo Vision? That would explain how he got in– and it would certainly make things interesting.

Slowly pushing the door open, Zhongli cautiously entered the room, not sure what he would find. Kaeya must not have been able to figure out the lights– only natural, he supposed- so he set them on a dim level, just enough to see in the room, hoping not to startle the hatchling. He was promptly greeted by the sight of Kaeya curled defensively in one corner of the room. The Archon’s heart cracked. The child looked far too small, all curled up, as if the world itself was out to hurt him…all he wanted to do was protect this child from anything that might try. Unfortunately, he had a feeling there were some things he would not be able to protect this hatchling from.

“Kaeya, Hatchling, are you alright,” he asked, as he reached out to touch the blue-haired child–

–only for said child to flinch away from the touch, as his starry eye snapped open. He immediately scurried away from Zhongli and well beyond the dragon’s reach. “Stars and stones,” the god mumbled, he had forgotten one of the most important things when it came to dealing with Xiao as a child, despite his rehearsal of the memories. No wonder the hatchling had fled from him.

Letting out a sigh, Zhongli lengthened the legs of the bed– just enough that the little boy could hide there if he wanted to. It was the least he could do after scaring him like that. He was relieved, however, when Kaeya did not immediately hide under the bed, giving him a moment to look over his– Xiao’s hatchling for any injuries. He knew from past experience that just because a child looked alright did not mean they were actually unharmed.

Still, Kaeya did seem to be uninjured for the most part, which was a small mercy. He had a feeling if Guizhong had seen his blunder she would have brought him properly to task for it; then somehow gotten the hatchling to trust her inside of five minutes. She would have rightfully taken his head off for how badly he kept screwing this up. After all, he had done this once before; with his memory, once should be enough to know what to do this time. Even without… he forced himself to take a deep breath, and let it out. No, he was not going to deal with those emotions, those memories, right now. He had a hatchling to look after.

Sitting on the floor as far away from the corner into which Kaeya had scrambled as he could manage, Zhongli kept one eye on him as he allowed himself to become lost in his thoughts. When Xiao had come to him that morning with a small hatchling in his arms, he had not known what to think. Where had the younger adeptus gotten a child? His first thought was that Kaeya was Xiao’s biological child, who just took more after his mother. But that did not explain the lack of nestmates. He supposed that yes, Kaeya could have come from an unusually small clutch...but again the idea of him being Xiao’s by blood did not quite sit right. He seemed too fearful of him to have been raised by someone who held him in such high regard. It was no secret how much his yaksha worshiped him, uncomfortable though Zhongli was with it.

While it was entirely possible Kaeya had been raised by his mother with very little input from his father, he had a hard time believing Xiao would have been willing to be completely uninvolved with his own flesh and blood. No, it was far more likely Xiao had stumbled into Kaeya and decided for one reason or another to take the child in. He probably did not know the hatchling was Khaenri’ahn, as he likely would have taken Kaeya to another one of the adepti if he had. Still, against all odds, the most aloof and unapproachable of his yaksha had found a small child that– with all things considered– was an enemy child. Taken that child in, intending to raise him as his own. At least until Xiao had remembered his karma.

The god let out a sigh. It was his fault that karma was even something Xiao had to consider. It was he who had failed to foresee the consequences of his yaksha taking on such a burden, and who had stood by as, one by one, each of them had fallen - until only Xiao remained. Leaving the boy he had seen– saw- as a son alone, with no one to help bear the burden. Worse yet, he had sentenced Xiao to a friendless existence, as his karmic debt would eventually corrupt those around him in addition to the yaksha himself.

By all rights Xiao never should have gotten so close to a mortal, but the two of them clearly had bonded tightly, and that made the god curious. What circumstances had allowed Kaeya, a child of Khaenri’ah, and Xiao, an adeptus of Liyue, to bond as they had? What had enthralled him so much that he had been ready to raise a mortal child? It was written plain as day in every line of the avian adeptus’ body that he was fighting his own instincts where it came to Kaeya. How else could you explain the odd sounds he had made when the hatchling had shown signs of distress? His reluctance to let go of the child?

But Xiao had fled before Zhongli had even thought to ask him these questions. Before he had even had a chance to come to terms with the fact that his yaksha had brought him a hatchling. For a moment he was reminded of another of his yaksha, before he pushed the thoughts away– he would deal with them later. Right now he needed to figure out how he could earn Kaeya’s trust, and he did not have the help of...he cut the thought off again. This was getting ridiculous.

Wait, maybe if he called Xiao– the hatchling was already attached to the avian adeptus– he would be able to soothe him and perhaps reassure him that the Archon was not going to hurt him, so he could get a proper start on things. Yes, that could work!

“Xiao,” Zhongli called, his voice soft as he waited with bated breath for the arrival of the Vigilant Yaksha. He hoped this worked; it had to work. Otherwise he would be even worse off than he had been in the early days of raising Xiao, when he had help from– those damn memories just would not stop intruding! He ruthlessly crushed them down again as he waited. He did not have to wait long, however, as a few moments later the young adeptus appeared in a swirl of darkness and Anemo. He looked a little worse for wear, but that was to be expected; he more than suspected Xiao had thrown himself back into his duties.

“Good, you are here-” The eldest of the Seven had barely gotten the words out before the avian adeptus disappeared just as quickly as he had arrived, leaving him once again in the same lurch as before. Alone with a child that feared him and assumed the worst of him, even if all he wanted was to help said child. Zhongli could not stop himself from letting out a deep sigh. Why was this a trend? Why did he always end up with children that were afraid of him, that thought he was going to kill them?

He did not think simply calling for Xiao again would work, but it was the best idea he had, considering he could not just leave Kaeya here alone while he went to find his wayward yaksha. So quietly he called for the younger adeptus once more, but was unsurprised when he failed to appear. Zhongli had not really expected him to.

What was he supposed to do with a scared child who thought his caretaker was going to kill him? The god was reasonably certain that simply reassuring Kaeya was not going to work– such attempts had usually backfired badly, with a young Xiao. And giving him space could work eventually, but he had a feeling no amount of space would be enough for Kaeya to trust him in the slightest, and for good reason. During the Cataclysm, he had been responsible for a large portion of the deaths. He had also been quite visibly prominent during the actual fighting, unlike some of the other Archons. He had no doubt any surviving Khaenri’ahns had taught their children to fear him in particular, given how ruthless he had been. A fact working against him, now, whether he had had a choice in the matter or not.

Zhongli let out another sigh; this was not how he had pictured spending his day off from his mortal job. Still, he was fortunate it was a day off– he was not sure how he could have explained that he needed the day off because his son had dropped off his… could he call Kaeya his grandson? Yes, Xiao had left the hatchling to be raised by him, but it was clear as day that the yaksha had wanted to keep Kaeya. The only thing stopping him had been his karma. He supposed he could, as he had told the blue-haired boy to call him Yéye. Still, that would have only led to more questions, given his apparent age, should he have tried to explain the situation to Director Hu.

That being said, he still had the issue of what he was going to do with Kaeya. He was probably too young to be left alone for long periods of time, such as while he was maintaining his mortal cover. The Archon glanced toward the hatchling– who was also watching him with a mix of fear and curiosity- he could work with that. Curiosity, even mixed with fear, was something familiar to him.

“Kaeya,” he said, carefully keeping his voice soft. “I give you my word, I will not do anything to harm you.” He paused, carefully considering his next words. Right now, he very much needed to talk to Ping, and see about getting her to do a reading of Kaeya. Not knowing exactly what was going on with the hatchling would make putting him back with Xiao next to impossible, and if there were already effects from his karma, the sooner acted on, the better. They would also need to see if there was anything they could do for Kaeya to mitigate the effects of long-term exposure to the yaksha’s karma, so he could return to his rightful parent. Ideally, he would simply call Xiao, and either have him keep an eye on Kaeya while he left to speak with Ping or deliver a message to her for him. However, given his earlier behavior, that was no longer an option.

His other option was to take Kaeya with him as he went to speak to Ping- certainly the more difficult of the two. But he did not see any other choice; he would have to hope he could get Kaeya to come along without too much fuss.

Before he could voice his plans to the child, he was cut off by a burst of Anemo, followed by an all-too-familiar giggle. “Barbatos,” he growled, suppressing the urge to throw a rock at the intruder. A rather large rock. “What are you doing here?”

The wind-spirit-turned-Archon just let out another giggle, frustratingly, as he hovered before the older god. “Oh, nothing my old friend,” the God of Freedom said, floating in a breeze of his own creation. “I simply heard a rumor on the wind that you had something- or rather someone– interesting living with you. Thought I would come to take a look and judge for myself.”

Zhongli resisted the urge to throttle the other Archon, figuring it would do nothing to help his image in Kaeya’s eyes… but maybe attacking another god would set him at ease. Perhaps it was worth a shot– the Geo Archon glanced in Kaeya’s direction, only to find he had crawled under the bed in the time since Barbatos’ arrival. That made the plan to take Kaeya with him impossible, now, and he huffed in annoyance. He was just about to tell the other god to leave when his eyes lit up with an idea. He could have Barbatos stay here and watch Kaeya, while he spoke to Xiao and Ping himself- it was the least he could do, after scaring the hatchling.

“Barbatos,” he said. It was a struggle to keep his voice even, but it would not do to scare the hatchling any further. “I need you to watch a hatchling for me.” There was curiosity in the Anemo Archon’s eyes, as he glanced toward the bed where Kaeya was hidden. “It is… best if you keep your distance, as he is quite fearful-”

He was cut off by a sound of protest, as the wind spirit took note of the starry eye watching the pair of them. “You’re not going to…”

Zhongli let out another growl, then hissed, “I would never do anything to my– Xiao’s hatchling.”

At that, the younger god seemed to relax. “Of course, I can watch the little Dandelion while you go fetch his father.” He giggled again, the infuriating drunkard, before continuing. “Unless you would rather I take him back to Mond?”

That was it. He was going to strangle Barbatos, consequences be damned. Zhongli moved to grab the smaller god by the shirt only to pause when he saw a periwinkle eye watching him. He could not do this in front of Kaeya. What if he ruined any chance of earning his trust? The child had no way of knowing that this was normal for them, that the smaller god would be unharmed in the end– and he had no doubt if he traumatized Xiao’s hatchling, once the yaksha took him back he would never see Kaeya- or possibly Xiao as well- again.

“Watch him well, Barbatos. If anything happens to him I will be the least of your problems,” he hissed quietly.

“Of course, of course, I understand! Now, you should go find your wayward child, Morax,” the teal-eyed Archon replied, his gaze holding something that suggested he knew something Zhongli did not.

The dragon god shook his head at the other god, then teleported out of his domain.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Two days ago, Venti had woken up. He intended to just roll over and go back to sleep for a bit longer, but then the winds had told him something interesting– a new Anemo Vision holder, in Liyue of all places! To make it just a little more interesting, his new little allogene was a child. Not just any child, a child of Khaenri’ah. Just the new one being a child would have been enough for him to stay awake for a while, maybe send one of the older Anemo allogenes their way, but one from Khaenri’ah warranted him taking more of a personal interest, for the child’s own safety.

He felt a certain responsibility toward them. Likely they were scared, and if they had been with a group of their own people, isolated. Thrown from the group because they happened to earn a Vision, something well beyond the control of a child. He really should hurry to get to them before something happened… The Archon reached for the wind, intending to listen to what was happening around the child to find out where they were, only to pause when he heard a somewhat familiar voice.

It was the only Anemo allogene in Liyue.

Well, besides this newest one. That was good. There was no one better than Xiao to make sure the little one was safe until Venti could get there.

Tilting his head as he listened, the wind spirit caught the name Kaeya- that must be the little Dandelion’s name. Cute! Still, he was surprised the kid had been willing to share his name with anyone, let alone someone who had a close connection with an Archon. That did suggest that Kaeya might not be afraid of the Archons… or that he had no idea who Xiao was. Either way would work, he supposed– if the little Dandelion wasn’t afraid of him, then Venti could take him in himself. If he was afraid, he could always leave Kaeya with Xiao.

He might have to warn Morax, if he did end up leaving the Khaenri’ahn in Liyue. Just in case. Venti had a feeling the old dragon would be thrilled to have someone around who was resistant to Xiao’s karma, though.

Hmmm. Maybe he should just leave Kaeya with the yaksha… he knew that the bird adeptus was quite lonely these days, due to the isolation caused by the effects of his karma. Having Kaeya around, who wouldn’t be affected by it, would hopefully ease that burden for his oldest allogene. Besides- from what he could tell from listening to the winds around his two allogenes, Xiao might have already bonded with the little one.

Of course, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple. Just leave Kaeya with Xiao and assume everything would be fine? No, no, he imagined he would have to convince the yaksha that yes, indeed Kaeya would be fine if he stayed with him. And that no, giving him to someone else was a bad idea. Knowing Xiao, he would try to hand Kaeya off to another one of the adepti– even knowing that the Khaenri’ahn was immune to karma, the yaksha would still find some reason or other to not feel worthy to raise the little Dandelion. As it was, he decided that for now, he would let things work themselves out- and step in only if it looked like he was right, and Xiao was going to leave Kaeya with another adeptus.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Of course, the moment Venti thought things would be fine– that he could leave Kaeya with Xiao permanently, and go back to sleep- that was exactly when things went straight to hell. First, Xiao had taken Kaeya outside of the Inn. Not a problem by itself; the problem was that they had gone to Morax before Venti had a chance to warn the old dragon. He had been putting off going to have a chat with the other Archon, admittedly, mostly because he had no idea if he was still upset about that last prank…he didn’t think he would be, but there was always that chance. Still, he was regretting that choice now. The wind spirit had no idea how the Geo Archon was going to react to his last yaksha showing up with a Khaenri’ahn child, likely intending for the dragon to raise him, incorrectly thinking his karma would harm Kaeya.

Venti let out a sigh as he settled among the branches above Wangshu Inn. He supposed he’d have to fix this. There was no way it was going to end well, and it was his own fault for stalling. After some consideration, he decided that while checking on Kaeya and Morax was definitely important, it was probably far more urgent to check on the bird adeptus. The God of Freedom had seen the way Xiao had been with Kaeya, and he couldn’t be taking leaving his child with Morax very well.

The wind spirit didn’t have to wait long before Xiao teleported to the branches below him, unaware of the god above. The adeptus appeared lost in his thoughts as he sat on the roof, then disappeared in a swirl of Anemo once again, reappearing less than a minute later. When the Anemo allogene summoned his wings only to start plucking them, Venti couldn’t help but gasp. He’d known that Xiao had wings, as a bird adeptus, but hadn’t had a chance to see them before– they were a beautiful mix of teals and golds that suited him perfectly. The god didn’t want to sit here and watch him destroy those gorgeous wings, but there was likely nothing he could do to stop it- he had a feeling the stubborn adeptus would start again the moment he left, no matter what he said.

With a sigh, Venti teleported to Morax’s domain. The old dragon was a blockhead, but he might know what could help the Anemo adeptus. He’d raised him, after all. And even if there was nothing he could do for Xiao, the younger god needed to check on Kaeya. He couldn’t imagine the little Dandelion had taken being left with a god very well. The child might have been okay with Venti, since he hadn’t been involved in a lot of the main fighting, but Morax had been in the very heart of the battle during the Cataclysm.

When Venti arrived in Morax’s domain, he was pleasantly surprised that a rock wasn’t immediately thrown at his head. He wound up saying a few things to get under the dragon’s skin, more out of habit than anything else- but he wasn’t really paying attention, he was looking for Kaeya. He only really focused back on the conversation when he went to ask the older god what he was going to do with the little one. Alas, he was cut off before he could finish the question, by Morax insisting he would never hurt the Khaenri’ahn child. Of course, he couldn’t help but tease about taking Kaeya back to Mondstadt, he was really cute hiding under the bed, watching their every move.

When the older Archon was done threatening him, Venti tried to urge him subtly to go check on Xiao. He was worried being too straightforward about what was going on with the younger male would have the opposite effect on the old blockhead. “Go find your wayward child Morax,” the teal-eyed god said, and thankfully, the dragon left the domain. He then turned his attention to Kaeya.

Still hiding under the bed, the child’s eyes lit up when he caught sight of the Vision sitting on the floor, a short distance from its owner. The Anemo god made his way over to the Vision, picking it up and leaving an apple in its place. He had a feeling Kaeya might be hungry– it was unlikely Morax had remembered to feed him. He’d let Kaeya decide if he wanted to take the offering, but had a feeling the little one wasn't going to take anything offered to him by gods.

“I’m Venti, it’s nice to meet you little Dandelion,” he said. It was probably best not to reveal that he knew Kaeya’s name. He had a feeling a god just knowing his name without being told would cause the boy a great deal of stress, something he really didn’t want to do if he could help it.

Kaeya’s eye went wide with fear as he tried to speak, but nothing came out. He glanced at his Vision in Venti’s hands before his gaze flickered up to meet Venti’s eyes for a brief moment.

The terror in the Khaenri’ahn’s face made the god pause, and sadness filled his heart. He’d never wanted anyone to look at him like that, let alone a child. “Don’t worry, little Dandelion. I won’t– I can’t hurt you, you did nothing wrong. I don’t think a child should pay for crimes he did not commit.” Venti murmured the words softly, making a breeze to ruffle the child’s blue locks, and hoping it would set the little one at ease. “Besides, you have a Vision, which means you belong here.”

When Kaeya shifted a little closer to look at his Vision, still in Venti’s hand, the god held his breath. He didn’t dare to break the fragile trust he was being shown. “Your Vision is really quite special, you know. There aren’t many Anemo users in Liyue, just you and Xiao.” Venti moved to pass the Vision back to its owner, but was unsurprised when the little one refused to take it.

“It’s not mine,” the Khaenri’ahn finally spoke in a small, scared voice. “I can’t have a Vision…”

“Sure you can,” the god chirped in reply. “You earned it, after all, so it’s yours.”

“I don’t want it.”

Venti let out a short snort before he could stop himself. What did he expect? Of course, a Khaenri’ahn wouldn’t want a gift from the gods responsible for killing their people. Not to mention he completely understood being given power you didn’t want… he’d never wanted his gnosis, so how could he judge Kaeya for not wanting his Vision?

Without thinking he muttered, “I didn’t want mine either, it should have been his…”

Suddenly the god of Anemo was blinking back tears, and there was a small child in front of him.

Chapter Text

Kaeya hadn’t known what to expect when Xiao had told him they were going to meet a friend, but it certainly wasn’t this. At first, he thought it was kind of fun- the art on the walls was pretty, and the stone halls kind of reminded him of the caves he grew up in, even if the man with the intense amber eyes freaked him out a little. They were just… a little too geometric to put Kaeya completely at ease. He was supposed to be Xiao’s friend, so he couldn’t be that bad. But when Xiao started talking about leaving him there, Kaeya started panicking a little.

He should have known things would be the same up here- he’d been told they were worse. Kaeya was never good at obeying Father, or anyone else for that matter, so he wasn’t surprised when he failed to do so yet again– but he should have known better than to question Xiao by now; should have known not to accept so much food, or clean clothes. But when the adeptus had offered those things so readily, when he had cleaned and dressed his wounds with so much care, Kaeya had thought Father had been mistaken. Had it all been a test? Had Xiao been offering him things he wasn’t supposed to have, just to see if he thought he deserved them? But Xiao had seemed to want him to listen, and so he had- Kaeya had listened when Xiao wanted to clean him, and when he kept putting so much food in front of him with that expectant look, and Kaeya hadn’t known it was wrong to obey.

Fighting down the mounting panic, Kaeya forced himself to breathe. The adeptus wouldn’t leave him with anyone dangerous, right? The Khaenri’ahn forced himself to focus on the conversation again, just as Xiao addressed him directly and murmured a quiet, “Be good for Morax.”

His heart dropped.

Kaeya knew that name– it would have been funny if it wasn’t so terrifying. What were the chances he’d end up in front of an Archon– and of all of them it had to be Morax– so soon after receiving a Vision? He really was doomed to fail, wasn’t he? Father had been correct; he couldn’t do anything right, not even to save his life.

Kaeya’s mind swirled with a myriad of thoughts. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but he didn’t want Xiao to leave him. Kaeya would gladly suffer through any punishment the adeptus gave him without so much as a whimper, but he couldn’t handle whatever Morax came up with. Or– maybe this was the punishment? Maybe all he had to do was behave under the god’s watchful eyes and if he did that then he could go back to Xiao after. That– he could do that. Maybe.

Kaeya forced his grip on Xiao to loosen as he was passed to Morax, fighting desperately against the urge to shake. He couldn’t show fear, it would only make things worse. So instead, he focused on Xiao’s words as he handed his Anemo Vision over. He still didn’t like the stupid little rock but… If Xiao told him to hold onto it, then maybe he should. For now, at least.

Then, before he could even blink, the adeptus disappeared from in front of him in a swirl of teal and black.

The room fell quiet for a moment, then Morax spoke so suddenly Kaeya almost jumped out of his skin. He already knew the Archon’s voice was deep, but it was an entirely different story when he could feel the rumble in his chest. The faint tremor he’d been so desperately ignoring seemed to worsen, and Kaeya didn’t dare look at the god. He knew he’d only see disappointment– or maybe anger- in his eyes anyway.

After what felt like an eternity, Morax shifted, and Kaeya suddenly found himself standing on the ground. It was a little jarring after spending so much time in someone’s arms, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t prefer it. At least this way he had a chance of running if Morax decided to kill him. Hopefully he could behave well enough to avoid that level of punishment, though.

The god spoke again, prompting him to follow, and started walking down a hall. Kaeya hurried to follow after him, trying to pay attention to what was being said. None of it seemed very important, though, just various bits of information about the rooms they passed… the Khaenri’ahn pulled himself out of his thoughts just in time to catch Morax say, “When you have settled in, you may come here to the baths and clean yourself.”

Was… was Morax giving him a tour? Was this a tour? But why? Did the god intend for him to live here? But he was from Khaenri’ah, and Father said Morax was one of the most dangerous ones– he should want Kaeya dead, not living in his home! And yet Morax just kept leading him around, showing him room after room with absolutely no end in sight.

Was he supposed to memorize this? For what purpose– and how, exactly? Kaeya could remember a lot, but why would he ever need to know where a room full of water was? Kaeya wasn’t– Xiao cleaning him with a rag and bowl was one thing, but to waste so much water for something as simple as cleaning himself… Kaeya wasn’t entitled to a bath. He barely deserved sand scrubbing on the rare occasions it was necessary. He didn’t really see how any of this was relevant to him, but… he would do as expected. Who was he to question anyone, much less a god?

Eventually, Morax led him down another very long hall until the two of them found themselves in front of a mural far larger than any of the others Kaeya had glanced at during the tour. For a moment, he could only look up at it in awe. It was a beautiful mural, made out of a thousand different stones Kaeya couldn’t even begin to name. It depicted the tree Xiao had taken him to on his very first night in Teyvat. Standing on the building’s roof, framed in red and orange and yellow, was a splash of teal and black and purple. Kaeya loved those colors, and he couldn’t resist a small smile even with the barely contained panic swirling in his mind. Then the Khaenri'ahn's eyes drifted farther down the mural and he froze for one painfully long moment. Just a little ways down the hall, what was once a beautiful piece of artwork descended into what Kaeya could only describe as pure chaos. It was no less detailed than the rest, but it was difficult to make out what it was supposed to be at first. The longer the Khaenri’ahn looked at it, though, the more familiar it got. The mural depicted a landscape with grey and black buildings backdropped by a crimson sky. Figures that looked like people seemed to be fleeing or already crumpled on the ground, and above them, six figures stood wreathed in different colors, corresponding to each element.

It was the Fall of Khaenri'ah…

The Fall was something Kaeya might not have borne witness to, but he had heard it described more than enough times to be able to recognize it. He stood perfectly still for another minute, maybe longer, as his panic started to bubble to the surface. Morax was going to kill him. He must’ve brought him here to make it clear, what other reason could there be?

Before the thought had even solidified in his mind, Kaeya already felt the pull of abyssal energy and let it whirl him away in a teleport. He wasn’t even sure where it was taking him, but he needed to get out of here– He wasn’t safe, Xiao might trust a god but he wasn’t like Kaeya. He wasn’t cursed. He wasn’t a monster, wasn’t a sinner condemned to death by the gods. Father had told him what would happen so many times he lost count and he’d be lucky if he died quickly, but Kaeya didn’t want to die at all.

The second his feet hit the ground the Khaenri’ahn was running, sprinting through unfamiliar halls as he fled the god, unsure of exactly where he was- but in all honesty, it didn’t really matter as long as it was away from Morax. So long as he could avoid being caught then he didn’t really care where he was.

Kaeya slid around a corner, barely stopping long enough to keep his balance, and sprinted down another hall. He didn’t even know why he was running at this point, he was in Morax’s domain, he was probably only alive now because the god was toying with him, but he couldn’t just give up. He had to survive, he had to prove he could do something, anything. If he could get to Xiao– would the adeptus help him? Xiao promised not to hurt him; said he protected the people of Liyue. Maybe Xiao thought he belonged here and if that was true… it was his best shot.

Eventually, despite his panic, Kaeya had to stop and breathe for a minute. Leaning against a wall, he glanced at his surroundings until his gaze found another mural, this one of a valley. It was a never-ending sea of green in every shade he could think of and it looked… beautiful. Briefly, he wished it were real, and not just a picture on a wall- then he remembered why he was here in the first place. Kaeya needed to get out of the domain before Morax caught up to him. But how was he supposed to find the entrance when he had no idea where it was?

Kaeya glanced at the elemental stone gripped tightly in his hand, wishing the stupid thing would be useful for once. So far, it had only caused problems for him, and now he had a murderous dragon-god that was going to eat him if he didn’t get out of here–

The Vision Xiao had handed to him pulsed once, brightening with energy at the same time his panic surged yet again. Then the mural glowed with the same energy and Kaeya’s attention snapped to it just before the wall slid away, revealing a valley surrounded by tall cliffs and large trees with a stream running through it. Thick underbrush covered the ground, making passage difficult, but Kaeya was small. Where Morax might struggle to navigate the thick underbrush, Kaeya would have a much easier time. After a moment’s hesitation, Kaeya began to crawl through the dense ground cover, wincing as branches and thorns caught on his borrowed shirt. Hopefully Xiao wouldn’t be upset if he ruined it, but he might never see the adeptus again if he didn’t find a way to escape the Archon.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he reached the cliffs, but he’d figure that out later. Right now he needed to get as far away from Morax as he could, and his best option was through this valley– whether there was a way past the cliffs or not. At least he was outside, right?

Unfortunately for Kaeya, things were never that simple, and he very quickly found out that what he’d thought was a valley outside the domain’s confines was in fact a room inside it. How did these things even work? How were you supposed to leave? Could you leave? Was he just trapped here forever? It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, he supposed. It sure beat being eaten by a dragon. Or maybe this was his punishment– to live in this domain and evade Morax for the rest of his life… however long that was. He wouldn't have to worry about his mission anymore, either. Not that he was too worried about it to begin with, at this point. Kaeya’d failed that two days ago, when he’d received the Vision he still held in his hands. Even if it was useless to him, Xiao said it would protect him. Granted, Kaeya was still a little skeptical of that claim, but the adeptus seemed to believe it. So he would keep it– for now, at least.

The Khaenri’ahn looked up at the cliff face, studying it for a heartbeat. Maybe there was an exit at the top? It seemed open to the sky at least, so if he could get up there… Kaeya looked for an easier way to climb, knowing he’d fall before he got halfway up in most places. His eyes lit up when he spotted a gentler slope up one of the cliff faces, and he scrambled over to it with a bit of his hope renewed- only to let out a yelp when what he could only describe as a door opened, sending him tumbling through it. Thankfully there seemed to be a bed underneath it, but still. This was not how Kaeya had been expecting his climb to go.

He paused, giving his eyes a chance to adapt to the change in lighting– really the lack of light was a good thing and it didn’t take him too long at all to adjust. His right eye was starting to hurt with how bright the surface world was. The little Khaenri’ahn scanned the room trying to figure out where he was, blinking owlishly in the dark. When he was finally able to see what was in the room, he was surprised to find it was a normal bedroom- albeit one with stone furniture and some really odd items sitting on shelves. If he hadn’t been trying to get away from Morax, he might have stopped to look closer at them, but he really didn’t have the time. He needed to keep moving or… or Kaeya didn’t know what would happen to him if the warrior god found him. It couldn’t be anything good, right? Morax had killed so many Khaenri’ahns during the Fall, so of course he’d want to kill one of the survivors, right?

The panic started to set in again as Kaeya realized he couldn’t find the door. If he couldn’t leave this room, he was going to be caught. If he was caught, then he was going to die- or worse. Morax was worse than the mages. The mages were cruel, but they never hurt him beyond what he could recover from– or beyond what could be fixed with healing, even if it hurt so bad he wished it just killed him. Morax didn’t have a reason to care about any of that, the god would be perfectly content to crush all his bones and leave him to suffocate under his own weight.

Perhaps he could leave the way he’d come in, but if he backtracked, Morax might catch him before he had time to find somewhere else to run to. Really his best option was to find the exit to this room and pray to the stars that he wasn’t found before he could escape—

Frantically running his hands along the stone walls, Kaeya was startled when the wall slid open, allowing a sliver of light into the room. He sat there in shock for a moment, just staring at the door. How did that happen? There hadn’t been a door there before, Kaeya was sure of it. So how had it opened? Was someone lurking outside the room, waiting for him to try to get out that way? Or something? Gathering his courage, the blue-haired child was about to slip out of the room– but then he saw a shadow cross it. There was something out there! He immediately retreated from the door and curled up in a corner instead, trying to make himself small and unnoticeable and once again praying that he wouldn’t be found.

Kaeya flinched and tried to hide his trembling when the lights turned on. Even as dim as they were, they were far too bright for him, and he quickly closed his right eye to ease the pain. The Khaenri’ahn was vaguely aware of someone calling his name, but couldn’t make out anything else- except that someone was trying to touch him. That had to be Morax… Kaeya’s eyes snapped open again, wide with fear as he stared at the god for a moment before scurrying deeper into the room, well away from him. Then he found himself blinking as Morax simply sat down on the floor, just watching him. Why would he sit on the floor? He was a god… so why was he sitting on the floor with a sinner like him? Why was he not hurting him? Father said that the gods would kill him if they knew where he was from, and not quickly either. They’d make it hurt as much as possible. Morax had to know where he was from so why was he… Kaeya’s thoughts spiraled as he tried uselessly to understand why he wasn’t being punished or killed for being Khaenri’ahn.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Kaeya registered the bed somehow shifting high enough that he could fit under it with ease. That did nothing to soothe his racing thoughts, though. It didn’t answer any questions, it only left the child with more— Why was Morax giving him a place to hide? Shouldn’t he have lowered it so Kaeya couldn’t hide? Did that mean he didn’t plan to kill him? But that didn’t make sense, Kaeya was a Khaenri’ahn– a sinner by nature, so he deserved to be killed, right? So why was Morax showing him kindness? Why would anyone show kindness and mercy to someone they should kill? Maybe the Archon wanted Kaeya to crawl under it, so he could lower it after he did so, and crush him to the floor? That wasn’t too far off from some of the ways Father had said that he could be killed… Still, wouldn’t it be easier to just have the ground swallow him? It would probably make less of a mess inside such a nice room.

With these thoughts whirling in his head, Kaeya stopped to actually look at Morax. He didn’t look all that scary, actually. He just looked tired, and maybe worried. He also seemed to be watching him constantly. Did that mean he was worried about what Kaeya might do? That didn’t make sense. Kaeya was powerless compared to a god, so why would he be worried about anything he could do? He was just a weak, useless sinner.

Before Kaeya could even think to ask a question, much less dare to actually do so, Morax was calling Xiao’s name. To the Khaenri’ahn’s surprise, the teal-haired adeptus actually showed up when he was called, appearing in a swirl of Anemo– but he left just as quickly as he had come. Xiao had been right there, he’d been so close– had he done something to upset the adeptus that badly?

Tears pricked in Kaeya’s eyes. He couldn’t think what he might’ve done wrong, but he must have done something for Xiao to leave him behind again. Father always said he was a failure. Xiao must have figured that out, too; that’s why he had left him, he’d realized Kaeya wasn’t worth his time...

Before he sank too far into his thoughts, there was a giggle and Morax growled out a terrifyingly low rumble. Kaeya immediately dove under the bed– squished had to be better than eaten, right? It wasn’t as if he had any other places to hide. Once as out of reach as he could manage, the little Khaenri’ahn turned to watch the newcomer. He looked familiar, but he couldn’t place where from, and he didn’t look like one of his own people– how could anyone look familiar, if they weren’t from the Abyss?

Then he heard Morax say his name, and it became clear. Of course he had to be another Archon. That was his luck today. At least Barbatos hadn’t been as directly involved in the Fall, and he would be less eager to hurt him… maybe. The Anemo Archon had stayed mostly above the fighting, literally, from what Father had told him. Some said that he was directing things, but Father hadn’t believed in that theory, since Barbatos hadn’t stuck around through all of the fighting. He had left well before the fighting ended, like a coward- or so Father had declared. Repeatedly.

Kaeya knew he should be paying attention to what the two gods were talking about, his life could depend on it, but he couldn’t focus on the words. Thoughts and memories and worries kept distracting him, as everything he’d ever heard about any Archon raced through his head… not that it mattered. If he’d thought gaining a Vision meant he’d failed his mission, well then being found out by two gods was… what was worse than failing? He didn’t know, but there had to be a word for it, because that was what he’d done. Somehow. How did everything he tried to do go so wrong?

Receiving a… where was his Vision? The Khaenri’ahn frantically looked around under the bed for the object, eventually casting his search further afield– only to realize the Anemo god was now holding it. Was… was he going to take it away from him, now that he realized Kaeya was entirely unsuited to receive such a thing? He hadn’t really wanted it, but… Xiao had asked him to hold onto it, had said it would protect him, and… while Kaeya wasn’t too sure that the lump of stone actually could do anything of the sort, it had been important to Xiao that he hold onto it, and… Barbatos was a god, the god of Anemo, so he probably had the power to take away an Anemo Vision, which was what he had wanted to happen, but… now that felt so wrong.

Kaeya moved a bit closer, trying to get a better look at what Barbatos was doing. The god had his Vision cupped in his hands as if it was some precious thing. It looked a lot like Xiao’s, the boy suddenly realized– just as Barbatos commented on the same thing. Then the god was trying to hand it back to him-

Out of reflex, more than anything, Kaeya recoiled away from the Vision. He found himself shaking his head as he spoke softly. “It’s not mine, I can’t… I can’t have a Vision, I…”

“Sure you can,” Barbatos didn’t even hesitate to contradict his words. “You earned it, after all, so it’s yours.”

“I don’t want it,” the Khaenri’ahn mumbled. His heart wasn’t really in the argument, if it could even be called that… he kept remembering Xiao’s words.

The Archon didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just sat there, with a pained look on his face… then he said something about not wanting his, either. Kaeya’s mind grinded to a halt at that, confusion plainly written on his face. Did that mean Barbatos hadn’t wanted to be a god? That didn’t seem possible… Father had always said that the gods had feared the strength that Khaenri’ah had; that it had been a threat to the power they held and had fought to obtain, so they had destroyed their homeland in order to keep their power. But if Barbatos hadn’t wanted his power to begin with… maybe the other gods hadn’t wanted theirs either. But then why had they destroyed Khaenri’ah? If it hadn’t been to keep their power, like Father said, there still had to be a reason… and maybe that reason had something to do with why neither Morax nor Barbatos had moved to kill him, yet.

Everyone he’d met from Teyvat had shown him nothing but kindness, even when they had to know he was nothing but a sinner from a godless land. Xiao had even taken care of his injuries, even the ones Father had given him, and done it without forcing him to endure a healing. Morax had shown him around his own home and hadn’t objected at all to the idea of Kaeya staying with him… apparently. He’d barely interacted with Barbatos at all yet, but he said he didn’t want his power and didn’t move or act threateningly at all. Father had said he would be tortured and killed if anyone found out he was Khaenri’ahn, yet he was still alive, hadn’t been hurt except by some hilichurls, and he had a Vision. Did that mean Father had lied, or were the two gods just waiting to act, for some reason? If he’d lied about this, had he lied about anything else? Could he trust anything he knew? If he couldn’t, then anything he did could be wrong, could turn Xiao and the gods into the vengeful beings he’d been warned about, because there was no telling why they were holding off now, why Xiao had been so kind right from the start…

Kaeya really, really wished Xiao was there. He’d know what to do, what was safe. He seemed to know Morax well, had called him a friend, so maybe he also knew Barbatos? He had an Anemo Vision, and Barbatos was the Anemo Archon, so maybe… and Barbatos had said that his Vision looked similar to Xiao’s, so that meant, at the very least, that Xiao had met the god at some point.

As he sat there, quietly losing himself in his thoughts, it occurred to him that Morax had just… called for Xiao and he had shown up. Yes, he had left immediately- but maybe, just maybe if Kaeya called… but would he stay?

…He had to try. The worst that could happen was that Xiao didn’t come or he did come and left immediately… or maybe that it made him angry with Kaeya, but he was half-sure that was why he’d been left here, so what was there to lose? He climbed out from under the bed and found himself face to face with Barbatos, who was still gently holding out his Vision like it was something to be treasured. Carefully, the Khaenri’ahn took the Vision from the god’s hand, hoping that if he held onto it Xiao would stay this time, that it was only his refusal to touch the thing that had gotten him in trouble.

Taking a deep breath, Kaeya steeled his nerves and called out softly-

“Xiao.”

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

When he had left Morax’s domain, Xiao had been intending to make a start on slaying the monsters he’d been neglecting during the couple of days Kaeya had been staying with him. Instead, he found himself on the roof of the inn, not entirely sure how he’d gotten there– but now that he was here, he didn’t feel much like leaving. The monsters could wait, he supposed. Madame Ping had been telling him, time and time again, that the mortals could handle it– maybe just this once it would be alright… he would return to his duties later.

The last Yaksha sat down among the branches, lost in his thoughts. Kaeya would be fine, he was sure of that much. Morax had done well with him, so he shouldn’t worry about his fledgling.

Everything would be fine.

So why was he worried?

He had no reason to worry. His Lord had already raised one fledgling, he could do it again, and Kaeya would undoubtedly be easier to raise than he had been. Kaeya wasn’t cursed like Xiao was, was an innocent, not a blood-drenched demon fresh from the battlefield.

He winced. Morax would definitely have a much easier time raising Kaeya than he’d had with Xiao…

Still, hadn’t Sa... no, he couldn’t afford to think about that, not right now.

Maybe he could help, from time to time? Kaeya had an Anemo Vision, and he could– no, he had to stay away. His karma would kill his fledgling, that was the whole reason he’d had to give him up. But what if… Xiao cringed at the memory of his Lord’s first attempt at teaching him how to read. Maybe… it might be better if he taught his fledgling the written language, at least. That way he could be sure his fledgling knew how—

No, no, no! No matter how much Xiao wanted to… as much as he needed to be a part of Kaeya’s life, he had to stay away. It was better for him that he wasn’t exposed to any more karma. Who knew what effects it could have on a fledgling as young as him? Still, it was hard when everything in him was screaming to go and take his fledgling back. He needed to learn not to listen to the thoughts that had him longing to return to his chick, just like he refused to listen to the ever-present whispers. His fledgling would be fine without him, Morax would take care of him as he had promised. Kaeya would grow into a fine young man, even without Xiao to guide him. He had Morax.

But Kaeya was his, he should… No, he had to let the little boy go. He belonged with his Lord now, he wasn’t… wasn’t Xiao’s, anymore.

It was for the best.

Even if it hurt more than anything, to give up his fledgling…

Then he heard his Lord’s call, and he followed it.

After a brief stop outside the abode to step through the passthrough, Xiao reappeared in a swirl of Anemo inside his old bedroom within Morax’s domain, where the call had led him. He lingered only for a moment, desperately fighting with the urge to scoop his fledgling up in his arms and whisk him away to the Inn- no, no he mustn’t– before he fled the abode. Any longer, and he would’ve acted on the urge, and the cost to Kaeya...

Once again Xiao found himself on that familiar rooftop, lost in his thoughts. With his mind running on instinct rather than conscious thought, the yaksha summoned his wings, running slender fingers through the gold and teal feathers. Every so often he would stop, pulling a particularly loose one or just straightening them out.

He needed a distraction, and preening his wings would work for the moment.

Besides, it had been quite a while since he had last taken the time to look after his wings. He didn’t often let himself think about them, given that he couldn’t use them for flight, or even gliding after… No, he was not going to think about that, he would rather think about anything but that night.

Xiao’s thoughts turned back to his fledgling. It was safer than thinking about his wings, even if it still hurt…

When his Lord had called, he had answered without a second thought. It was Morax who was calling, after all. He hadn’t expected the call to lead to his old room, or to find his fledgling hiding in a corner. For a long moment, he had wanted more than anything to scoop up his obviously terrified fledgling and take him away. But then he had remembered how scared he’d been when he had first started living with his Lord, and how little reason for it there had been. Kaeya would be fine, too, once he’d been there long enough to see Morax for who he was. Still, he’d had to leave before he gave into temptation and ruined any progress his Lord had made with the little one.

Had he looked so lost and scared himself, back then? Was that why Sai– no he couldn’t think about him right now, he couldn’t afford to. The thought only made it harder to avoid going back to take Kaeya, to hold him close and never let him go… being away from his fledgling lessened that need, at least enough to control himself. He would have to refuse to answer any further summons, for now. Hopefully, his Lord would understand.

At some point simply preening his wings had turned into plucking, unnoticed as the bird adeptus lost himself in racing thoughts centered on his fledgling. By the time Xiao felt a familiar presence on the roof below him, there was a pile of iridescent teal and gold feathers sitting next to his spot on the roof.

“Xiao.”

Hearing the deep and comforting voice, this time the yaksha wasted no time answering the call of the older adeptus. It was safe to, now, since he didn’t think Master– Morax had brought Kaeya with him. The Geo Archon let out a sigh, an unreadable look on his face as he saw the state of Xiao’s wings, before something in his eyes softened.

“You did not come when I called.”

Xiao kept his gaze on the ground, refusing to meet Morax’s eyes. He wasn’t going to justify or explain his actions. Everything he had done had been for the benefit of his fledgling, and he’d do it over again if he had to. If it meant Kaeya would be safe and healthy, he’d do anything. He only regretted not explaining everything to his Lord when he’d brought his fledgling to him. He had been afraid if he lingered too long, he would lose the battle with his impulses and take Kaeya back– as it was, he had very nearly done so when he had answered the call earlier. It had taken everything in him, every ounce of self-control he had, to shove the thought down and simply leave before he actually stole his little one, his Kaeya back. And even more self-control to keep himself from simply going back to take his fledgling now that it registered that if Morax was here, then Kaeya was alone.

Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Xiao registered Morax demanding answers from him. Answers he really didn’t have, if he was honest with himself.

“I…. I couldn’t…. Kaeya…”

Panic rose in his throat before he could shove it back down, and words failed him.

In a futile effort to quell the anxiety, the Anemo adeptus plucked another couple of teal feathers. Tiny beads of blood speckled his patchy underwings. How was he supposed to explain the overwhelming urge to care for a child? One so strong it was almost impossible to leave them in the care of someone else, even someone far more qualified to provide for them? How did he explain to his Lord, the god who had saved him over and over and over again, even if he didn’t deserve it, that part of him– a large part– refused to believe he could be trusted with his fledgling? How was he to explain, to the one who had given him a purpose, to whom he’d pledged his life to serve, that he had disobeyed him for selfish and irrational reasons, reasons he couldn’t even fully understand himself?

As Xiao spiraled deeper and deeper into his thoughts, the occasional feather drifted to the ground to join the others. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Xiao made a note that he was going to have to clean those up at some point. He could dimly make out that Master– Morax was speaking to him, but he couldn’t make out the words. He supposed they were probably reprimands for not answering Master’s question, or possibly words of comfort. Most likely the former, but even the idea of comforting words did little to soothe the avian adeptus’ anxiety– if anything, it only served to heighten his panic. Master had always been kind, but he shouldn’t be worrying about his comfort, not when he was refusing to answer his questions, when he’d been so disobedient.

Then he heard a fresh call, his name spoken by a higher, younger voice—

His eyes went wide. His Fledgling was calling him. Xiao didn’t think, he just left.

Kaeya needed him.

By the time he reached Kaeya, the adeptus already had his polearm in hand, ready to face whatever danger had caused his fledgling to summon him. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Barbatos with his fledgling. That had not been what he’d been expecting. What was the God of Freedom doing in Master’s domain, threatening his fledgling?

No matter, he’d killed gods before, he could do it again if the need arose.

Although he would rather not kill the Anemo Archon, anyone who dared to threaten Kaeya… Well, they would learn just why he was once called a bloodhound. Letting out a low growl the yaksha placed himself between the god and his fledgling, his eyes dark, almost predatory as he stared down the god, daring the other to make a move. In a head-to-head battle against a god that wielded his own element, Xiao was not too sure he could win the fight. But the God of Freedom used a bow, and in close combat Xiao was reasonably sure he could win, if he had to. Even if he would rather not fight this god, he would, if the Archon did not get away from Kaeya.

When Barbatos made no move, either to approach or to back away, Xiao let out a hiss of a warning before gently nudging Kaeya away from the god. He didn’t want Kaeya caught in the crossfire if he had to fight… that had happened to a child once, and he had vowed that never again would an innocent get caught up in one of his battles.

Kaeya would not end up like her.

Xiao spread his wings wide as he let out another warning hiss toward Barbatos when the Archon dared to step closer to his fledgling. When the god ignored his warning, he let out another growl and picked Kaeya up, cradling the child close to his chest. The god hadn’t seemed overly aggressive, and his fledgling seemed alright. For the moment, the yaksha left off attacking in favor of just looking Kaeya over for injuries.

Thankfully, other than a few new scrapes, his fledgling seemed the same as he had that morning. The one thing he did note was how tightly Kaeya clung to him, almost as he was afraid Xiao would leave him again.

And that broke something inside him.

Cooing softly, the bird adeptus nuzzled into blue locks, whispering softly. “I will not leave you again, Kaeya, I promise.”

And he meant it. He would never leave his fledgling again. How could he, when everything in him was screaming at him to protect and look after his fledgling? Then Kaeya shivered, whether from fear or cold it didn’t matter, and the avian adeptus pulled his wings around them both, blocking out the world around them for the moment. That seemed to help, as his fledgling relaxed into his arms, burying his face in Xiao’s shoulder and sighing softly.

Pressing his lips to soft blue hair, Xiao let out a sigh of his own.

Everything was fine.

Everything was perfect.

He had his fledgling back, safe in his arms, and he wasn’t ever letting him go again.

Chapter Text

Barbatos’ words haunted Zhongli as he left his abode. What did the wind spirit know that he did not, to so openly urge him to go find Xiao? Barbatos, who almost never said anything clearly, favoring instead a manner of speech that wrapped everything in so many extraneous words as to become almost meaningless entirely. Something must be terribly, urgently wrong, for the confounded bard to be so straightforward… speed was essential. He could speak with Ping later– he had to find his son, and quickly.

Xiao spent much of his time at Wangshu Inn, when he was not actively patrolling or in combat. He would go there first, search thoroughly, and if his yaksha was not there… well, he would have to tighten up that shale when he skidded on it. The odds might be low, but anywhere else would require him to stretch out his stone sense and hope the bird was touching rock, hope he was in one of the first places he checked, hope that the time he wasted searching did not make him too late–

The dragon tried not to think just how low those odds were. Xiao had a tendency to overwork himself to the extreme in the best of times, and now? If, as Zhongli had a terrible suspicion, the avian adeptus was in a mood to punish himself, he was likely out in the furthest corners of Liyue, seeking out the toughest battles he could find.

Given that, the archon could not really say he was surprised to find the adeptus’ usual rooftop apparently empty. Worried, yes, but ‘usual’ only applied when the yaksha was not out cleansing the land– and even if he was here… Well, it was never that easy when it came to Xiao, particularly if he wished to avoid being found. He had always been good at concealing his presence in general, and for Zhongli… well. He had to admit that sensing the presence of another in such a way had never truly been his strong suit.

But perhaps… if he was not actively trying to avoid Zhongli…

With a small sigh, anticipating failure, the dragon softly called the yaksha’s name. To his surprise, his summons was actually answered, and he found himself hoping Xiao did not notice his small jump as the adeptus appeared before him. He was further startled to see Xiao’s iridescent wings spread out behind him– it was quite rare for the bird to bring them forth, rather than leaving them tucked out of the way in his bodily subspace. For him to have summoned them…

Barbatos was right, stars damn him. Something had to be off.

At least it was also an indication Xiao had not been out fighting, which was a small mercy to the Archon’s nerves. It made it far less likely the yaksha was injured. Nevertheless, that he had his wings out at all warranted a closer look at the avian adeptus– just in case.

At first glance, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary– but appearances were often deceiving, and the archon had long since learned that just because the yaksha looked in good health did not mean he actually was. Xiao was annoyingly skilled at hiding pain and injury. A closer look revealed the disarray of those shimmering feathers, a clear sign even to a dragon that they had not been preened in some time– not unexpected, with how they were usually tucked away. And as that was the only even possible visual sign of a problem- at least, without making his inspection obvious– Zhongli suppressed his concerns for the moment, instead choosing to ask Xiao why he had not come when called earlier.

Long moments passed without answer, and he eventually was forced to conclude that the younger adeptus had not heard him, lost in his thoughts despite coming to Zhongli’s call. He could not keep the concern from his face as he gently spoke his son’s name once more, hoping to return his attention to the present. “Xiao.”

“I…I couldn’t… Kaeya…”

Zhongli waited patiently as the avian adeptus struggled to force out words. He knew the yaksha struggled to organize his thoughts sometimes, but that if he allowed him to do so, he would get his answers in due time.

Then Xiao reached for the feathers of his left wing, and the dragon’s heart cracked. He barely halted the movement of his arm, reaching to stop his son from acting on that old self-destructive habit– he remembered just in time the lectures he had received from Ping and– he was not going to think about him, not right now– about not interfering, because it would only make things worse.

Knowing it would make things worse did not make it any easier to simply stand and watch the gold and teal feathers slowly litter the roof, aware of the level of stress and emotional pain that had driven such an action in the past.

It had been years, centuries since he had last felt so helpless. He did not like it now any more than he had then. If he should not interfere, then how was he to help Xiao? Did he dare touch him, offer physical reassurance? When the yaksha was younger, it had often ended… poorly, if a touch caught him by surprise. Was that still the case?

It shamed Zhongli that he could not be certain.

He took a step closer– unlike himself, Xiao had always excelled at detecting the presence of others, perhaps his presence alone might have a soothing influence? But it was a frail hope. He knew… after all this time, his presence, his pitiful attempt at aid was likely the last thing the young adeptus wanted in such a moment. Perhaps his excuses were just that, an attempt to justify his own selfish desire to be close to his son, to protect him. It did soothe his own nerves slightly. And from this closer vantage, he could get a better look at his yaksha, at the condition of those wings he so relentlessly insisted on harming–

It was not as bad as he had feared. There were indeed patches of missing feathers, the occasional speckle of blood on the bare, pebbled skin. And it was clear, as before, that he had not properly preened in some time. But that was all. In contrast to the first time he had seen them– burns both old and new, misshapen bones that one did not need to be a healer to know spoke of far too many mishealed breaks, bruising until it was hard to tell the true color of the skin–

Zhongli had to close his eyes for a moment and breathe, forcing back the images.

Every time someone commented on how a perfect memory must be a wonderful thing to have, he had to fight the twin urges to laugh and scream.

Letting out his breath, Zhongli focused on the fact that his son’s wings were not so injured as they had been. His son was whole, and safe - or as safe, as whole, as he ever was, anymore. Physically, at least, he was fine– though his mental state was clearly more in question.

After several more minutes of waiting, he was forced to conclude that Xiao had lost track of the world around himself once more. The Archon struggled to think how to help his child– because whether the yaksha knew it or not, he was, both legally and in the old dragon’s heart.

Finally, with no other ideas, Zhongli spoke softly and reached out to lay a hand on Xiao’s shoulder. “Hǔ zǐ…let me help, please- ” He had not even finished the words, and his hand had not yet reached Xiao’s shoulder, when his son disappeared in a swirl of karma-darkened anemo. The dragon closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to force down the hurt. It seemed he had been wrong, and trusting Zhongli with his child had not been the sign of forgiveness he had hoped, and he…he was still unwanted in his son’s life.

It would be so easy to go hide in the depths of his abode, drown in the hurt for a while.

It would not solve anything.

And if he failed to do right by the hatchling currently in his abode, if he failed yet another child, it would only drive his son further away. So he shoved the hurt down deep, told himself he did not actually feel as though he were being torn apart, that his heart was whole and not shattered into a crumbling pile somewhere below his stomach. Tried to convince himself that it did not matter that Xiao had chosen to leave, rather than acknowledge his words. That it changed nothing. He could deal with his emotions later.

He had other priorities at the moment– such as informing Ping that he had a child under his care, and asking if she would be willing to do a full reading on the hatchling, to find out if there were any problems to be addressed from the start.

With a deep sigh, Zhongli scooped up a handful of the abandoned feathers for later, before teleporting to the Harbor.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Ping couldn't help chuckling and shaking her head when her old friend appeared in the plaza. Really, if Zhongli kept teleporting into public areas like this, he would never manage to maintain a facade of mortality– not that he’d ever been terribly successful with it, even with centuries of practice.

It was no surprise that he headed straight to her table– who else would he come to the plaza to see? –but she had to work to hide her worry when she saw the obvious concern escaping the Archon’s facial control. He had long since mastered maintaining an expression of stone in public, and there were only so many things that could push him to show his emotions past it–

The old healer offered Zhongli a warm smile as he approached, a friendly greeting and asked after his wellbeing, but all the while she wanted to scream what happened to Xiao–

And then his words brought her mind stuttering to a halt for a moment.

“Xiao left a hatchling with me.”

He plunged immediately into the story of how and why and what happened since, in his usual long-winded way, and for once Ping was grateful for the way he expanded on things. It gave her time to scramble for mental purchase and adjust to the notion.

Xiao had a child? How, when– the bird was far too dedicated to his duty to take time off for socializing, and his karma– but as she listened the answers came clearer. A soft, sad smile found its way to her lips. So, a foundling then… but one the yaksha was clearly attached to. If they could find a way around the karma issue– and if the boy had a vision, that was likely workable– it would do him good. He had separated himself from the world for the sake of duty and the safety of others for far too long as it was. Grief and bittersweet sorrow swamped her for a brief moment, as she remembered another yaksha… perhaps he had rubbed off on Xiao more than any of them had thought. They had always been close, it wasn’t unexpected, really…

With a shuddering sigh, she pulled herself away from those memories. She couldn’t afford to get lost in reminiscences right now… not when Zhongli was flailing about emotionally with regards to Xiao, as usual, and this time with another child caught in the middle.

Some starting information would be helpful to figure out what, if anything, she might need to bring… even before the old dragon asked, she’d already planned to insist on checking the poor thing over. Between them, Xiao and Zhongli had probably terrified the child out of his wits– and she doubted either had taken the time to explain much of anything to him.

She could take care of that while looking him over. “Do you know how old the child is?” The sudden consternation on her friend’s face spoke volumes. “No matter. I’m sure– Kaeya, was it– can tell me himself. Shall we?”

…

She shouldn’t have been surprised when golden light immediately surrounded them, depositing them in front of the entrance to Zhongli’s abode. She really shouldn’t.

It was a good thing she was already known to have adepti as friends, or her own mortal cover would’ve been in trouble…

Zhongli didn’t even seem to notice, immediately leading the way in and down the halls at a ridiculously fast walk. Huffing to keep up with her shorter legs– really, even adepti had to deal with some of the side effects of age, he should know that- it took a moment for her to realize the route was familiar.

No.

Even he wasn’t that much of a blockhead, was he?

He wouldn’t.

Then he touched the symbol to open the door, and proved that, in fact he had. Her idiotic god of a friend had put the child in Xiao’s old room. Sighing, she resolved to give him a lecture on why that was a bad idea later, and hoped neither the yaksha nor his new adoptee had figured it out yet.

It took about two more seconds for that hope to be dashed. The door opened to reveal a scene she had never thought to see; Xiao, wings out and spread– she winced as she saw bare patches, he’d been plucking again– hissing at Barbatos.

It took a moment for her to locate the child, hidden as he was by those wings. At least if Xiao was holding him, he was unlikely to get too violent– she rather suspected he didn’t have a handle on the new instincts associated with parenthood, yet. And at least Barbatos was showing enough sense to keep his distance, for the moment.

In the time it took her to take in the situation and keep Zhongli from getting into the middle of things, Xiao had retreated with– well, she assumed that was Kaeya, to a corner and folded his wings around him, and shortly rather adorable cooing noises were coming from their direction. At least he should be a bit calmer now, if she could get the two gods to leave him alone–

Because both the idiots were already moving towards the pair, and reaching out–

She might have growled a little herself as she smacked both their hands down, “Out.”

“But– ”

“Surely– ”

“I said out.” She glared, and continued to, until they left the room. Zhongli gave in first– but then, he’d heard more of her lectures. She almost thought she’d have to drag Barbatos, but he sighed and left too before much longer, following the elder god into the hall.

Ping eyed the door a moment longer- just in case one of them was stupid enough to open it and try to watch– then turned to her patients. Kaeya might be her official reason for being here, but if she had the opportunity to get a good reading on Xiao’s health… it had been entirely too long since she’d gotten him to sit still long enough to check how bad his karma had gotten, and she had a sneaking suspicion that it was partly because he didn’t want her picking up on how little care he was taking for his own needs.

Which was bad enough normally, but if he was going to be raising a child– and given how Xiao was acting right now, she didn’t think Kaeya would be staying with Zhongli much longer, if at all– then he needed to be in good enough shape himself to do so, and needed to provide a good example. A child as young as the one she’d gotten a glimpse of was unlikely to listen to the reasoning that their parent didn’t need as much food as they did, and would just imitate them instead.

To her relief, it took only a few minutes before Xiao began to relax, folding his wings back to eye her cautiously. She had no doubt he’d known when Zhongli and Barbatos had left, and that she remained; she had never met anyone as good at sensing presences as Xiao. That caution did hurt, though, even if the change in posture showed he didn’t view her as a threat.

…or at least, as much of one.

“May I come closer, Xiao? I promise, I won’t hurt your chick. I just want to make sure you are both alright, perhaps do a reading to be absolutely sure.”

To her surprise, Xiao only blinked at her a few times before nodding. Maybe this would go more smoothly than she had thought. There was no doubt that the yaksha made for an extremely protective father, but if he was classifying her under ‘protectors’ instead of ‘threats’...

There was still the matter of the child, who was clearly terrified. Her display of temper earlier might not have helped with that, honestly. Best to be as gentle as possible from here on out. “Why don’t you sit down on the bed with Kaeya? It might be a little more comfortable for both of you.”

Xiao hesitated for a moment, then nodded, his wings disappearing in a small flash of light as he tucked them away again before sitting on the bed. Little Kaeya still clung to him, staring at Ping as though convinced she would hurt him– or take him away, she wasn’t sure which- so it was no surprise that he was settled on the young adeptus’ lap instead of at his side, for all it might complicate things.

After a moment’s thought, the healer decided to kneel in front of the two. It put her a little below the boy’s eye level, which would hopefully make her… ‘less scary’, as someone would once have said.

“Hello, Kaeya. I’m Madam Ping, and your Yéye asked me to come check on you.” …it wasn’t an encouraging sign that those simple words were enough to have the poor child starting to tremble. Was it just from the altercation he had just witnessed? The way his world had been turned upside down, the last few days? Or had he been ill-treated before Xiao found him? Ping noted how thin the exposed parts of him were, the shadows under his eyes, and came to the sad conclusion the last was most likely. “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. I’m a healer, that’s not what we do.”

Why did that make him shake harder?

“All I want to do right now is a quick reading, to see if you’re hurt anywhere we can’t see. It’s completely painless, you won’t even feel anything. I could do one on your Bàba first, to show you, if you like…” She trailed off, looking to Xiao. Hopefully he’d cooperate– and then she’d solve two problems at once. Get that look at his condition she wanted, and calm the child.

He didn’t respond to her directly, instead focusing on his chick, running his fingers through that dark blue hair and making more of those cooing noises from earlier. It seemed to be working, so she waited patiently, and after a few minutes Xiao bent forward to nuzzle the top of Kaeya’s head and whisper to him. “It will be fine, Kaeya. Honorable One– Madam Ping- will not hurt me.”

Hearing that title again, after so many centuries, was like a blow to Ping’s gut. Memories swamped her for a moment– a child more hurt than any should ever be, screaming in agony because she’d misjudged things yet again. Wings deformed and broken, and a gentle touch that seemed to land like a lit brand on them. Tear-filled apologies- but she shoved them down, stomped them down, they wouldn’t help right now–

“I have known her for a very long time, and she has never hurt me intentionally before.”

Damn it, she could not start crying now. She needed to stay calm, or at least appear to be. But… to hear proof that he’d forgiven her for all the pain she’d caused, so long ago…

“I don’t see why that would change now. She will not hurt you either, fledgling, I promise.”

Ping took a minute to make sure she had her emotions back under control, then held out a hand. Once he’d learned it was an option, Xiao had always preferred a hand as her access point for readings and healing when it was possible– and she was more than skilled enough to work from any point of contact. He ran his fingers through Kaeya’s hair one more time before setting his hand in hers–

Her power had barely begun to sweep through the yaksha when her heart sank. It was immediately apparent that, despite the lack of an increase in requests for his medication, Xiao’s condition had severely worsened. He’d already had more karmic taint built up than any other yaksha had survived, multiple times over, the last time she had cornered him– and that had been centuries ago. But by all reports, there were less tainted monsters appearing, so she’d hoped…

Once again, Ping fought to suppress tears, to maintain that calm smile. How was Xiao still alive, still sane? They’d never figured out how he’d resisted it so well. Without knowing how, they couldn’t know when he’d lose the battle, when they’d lose him too… they’d already lost…

She had to get him to cooperate with an increase in dosage. If he hadn’t requested it, with the amount of pain he was in, he had to be trying to just handle it on his own, and they already knew from others that it didn't help matters. They had to.

Perhaps, with a child to look after, he would be more reasonable…

At least he didn’t seem to be hiding any wounds at the moment.

Hoping her smile hadn’t become noticeably shaky, Ping released Xiao’s hand and turned to Kaeya, whose eyes followed her hand as she offered it to him in turn. The fear was not entirely gone from his eyes, but unless she missed her guess, curiosity was the stronger force in the child now.

“See, it doesn’t hurt at all. Your Bàba is perfectly fine. Just put your hand in mine when you’re ready, and I’ll be quick about it.”

The boy hesitated, then looked up at Xiao– for reassurance, she assumed– before slowly reaching out to put his hand in hers. She shoved down her reactions to her other patient’s state, forcing a more genuine smile to her face that she hoped he would find reassuring.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

That smile froze as she began her reading. Once again, the information felt like a blow. There was no question the child was mortal, the way energy flowed in his body matched that of other human vision-wielders, not that of an adeptus– but how could a mortal child of his age bear so many old wounds? Most were long healed, of course, but the echo remained in his bones and flesh, much as it had for Xiao, when he’d come to them. A level of scarring she’d expect from a lifelong soldier many decades Kaeya’s senior… but who, in these days, would force a child to fight so much?

Her heart ached.

All those wounds were bad enough, but then she got to the child’s head, and discovered that his right eye appeared to… it wasn’t even as if it didn’t exist. A missing eye would still show the empty socket, the condition of the surrounding tissue… this was some sort of magical void, like a hole in reality. She simply couldn’t sense anything there. What had they done to this child?! She instinctively prodded further at the area, hoping for some clue–

Pain.

For an unknown period of time, that was all Ping knew. Her head hurt worse than she could ever remember feeling, and she couldn’t think, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear– then she heard distant screams, from a voice she didn’t recognize, then they weren’t so distant and she realized it was Kaeya screaming in front of her, oh gods she’d hurt another child with a reading how–

She pulled away, still struggling to think through the blinding agony in her skull. She thought she was apologizing, she wanted to be apologizing, but she couldn’t be sure and could he even hear her right now?

Gradually, the pain faded enough for her to properly register her surroundings. It was quiet now, too quiet, Xiao’s wings were back out and blocking them both from view and those bent feathers where the bed was in the way probably hurt but why was she thinking about that right now, was the child alright? What had she done to him when she prodded that void, oh stars don’t let him be dead–

Zhongli was there. Since when was Zhongli there? He was standing between them, looking from her to the young ones and back, panic written in his face and posture–

She had to calm down.

They needed her calm.

She took a deep breath, and hoped the lingering pain in her voice wasn’t too obvious. “I’ll be fine, Zhongli. Can you tell if the little one is? I…I doubt Xiao will let me close, just now.”

The god hesitated a moment, but didn’t move towards the pair on the bed. “I- I managed to get a look earlier, the hatchling is unconscious, and I… I suspect he may have aggravated an injury I failed to notice earlier. I did not see, but I smell fresh blood. Xiao has thus far refused to put him down so I can take a closer look… or respond to my words at all, to be honest.”

She sighed. There was no help for it, until Xiao calmed down. “We’ll just have to wait, then. I doubt Xiao has a good handle on his parental instincts yet, so with his chick hurt– I have no doubt any attempt to interfere will be read as an attack.”

Zhongli didn’t look terribly happy about that answer, but there was nothing even a god could do to change things. Finally, he sighed and turned more fully towards her. “What happened?”

Ping closed her eyes and struggled for control again. This was not the time to break down in tears. Later, in the privacy of her abode, she could take the time to process everything… and to remember. “There was something highly unusual with Kaeya’s right eye, and it did not respond well to being investigated. I’ll tell you more later.”

The dragon looked rebellious, but she pinned him with a glare. “Those two are the priority right now. First, we wait for Xiao to calm down enough to let us check on Kaeya, to at the very least find the source of that blood you smelled. Perhaps see if Kaeya is willing to talk to us, tell us if he knows anything about what happened. I doubt he will even if he does, but at this point that looks like the only– “

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Xiao wasn’t entirely sure when Honorable One- Madam Ping had entered the room, but he certainly wasn’t upset by it. Kaeya almost certainly needed a healer and he could think of no one better than the elder adeptus. Granted, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with another touching his fledgling right now, but he had to be. For Kaeya’s sake, if nothing else. It was just a reading, surely he could handle that much- he even sat through one himself just to prove they were safe. It had to be better for him if the reading was done now, instead of later…struggling to shove down his reluctance to allow anyone to touch Kaeya, Xiao forced himself to relax as his fledgling put his hand in the healer’s and she began her reading.

He laid his cheek on top of Kaeya’s head and just breathed for a moment, taking in his scent and the familiar, stony smells of the abode. His fledgling was safe, Honora– Madam Ping wasn’t going to hurt Kaeya because readings didn’t hurt. ‘They did once’, a tiny part of his mind reminded him. He quickly pushed that thought aside, refusing to even entertain the idea. A reading wouldn’t hurt Kaeya, there was no reason it should. He was nothing like Xiao, he’d never been enslaved... He smiled softly, turning to press a kiss into blue locks. His fledgling was nothing like him. He would be fine.

The bird adeptus was yanked out of his thoughts as the child in his lap let out a scream of agony, stiffening in the yaksha’s loose hold. On instinct, Xiao tightened his grip, protectively pulling Kaeya closer, only for his fledgling to wrench himself nearly out of the gentle hold the bird adeptus had on him. Panic flooded the yaksha as he pulled Kaeya closer to him and away from the healer.

Readings weren’t supposed to hurt, the only time they had hurt had been when he had been first saved from Master Moharus– when he still had the gem– did that mean…

No, he needed to calm down. Kaeya was nothing like him Kaeya was fine, he would be fine there had to be a different reason that the reading hurt his fledgling. There needed to be a different explanation, Master Moharus was dead, had to be dead, Master had killed him… but what if he wasn’t? What if Master Moharus had gotten to Kaeya? It made sense, Xiao had disobeyed so many rules. Why wouldn’t he punish Xiao in the worst way possible, by taking his fledgling?

A whine tore from his lips before he could stop it. How was he supposed to protect Kaeya from Master Moharus?

‘You can’t. You never stood a chance.’

He was just going to end up like Mighty One had. Dead because of him, dead because he couldn’t just follow the rules, dead because he upset Master Moharus again.

‘Dead because you made the mistake of caring. You know better, to care is to doom others.’

How long would his fledgling last before Master Moharus got bored with the little mortal, even if Xiao followed every order? Even if he didn’t fail? Most mortals didn’t last very long, and as strong as Kaeya was he still wasn’t an adeptus, and he was just a fledgling, not even grown...

‘You should spare him the pain. Slit his throat now, before the torture begins-’

Master Moharus might not even kill Kaeya himself, he might make one of his other adepti do it, or worse he might force Xiao to kill his fledgling while he watched, make him eat his dream...

Could he hide Kaeya away someplace only he knew about?

‘You can’t hide, can never hide.’

It would probably mean breaking more than a few rules, but Xiao was willing to do that and a lot more if it meant his fledgling was safe. Better to take the punishment on himself, if he could. But where could he hide Kaeya that Master Moharus wouldn’t be able to find him?

‘Nowhere, he can always find you, you could never run- ‘

Could he even hide his fledgling? If Master Moharus found out he would kill both of them.

‘No, you’re too useful, he’d use Kaeya as a lesson. You’ll have to cut him apart, listen to his screams as he controls your limbs, like so many others-’

Still, he had to try, it was Kaeya’s best chance– his best chance to make sure his fledgling could grow up free.

‘Never free, never, he didn’t deserve it and anyone he touched was tainted, he doomed the child the moment they met–’

It needed to be someplace the god couldn’t easily get to-

‘There is no escape. He can get to you anywhere, control you from anywhere, hurt you from anywhere.’

–but someplace Xiao could get to just in case his fledgling called for him.

‘As if you’d be permitted to help him, you’ll just hear him screaming your name and be unable to do anything but witness.’

Although he hoped Kaeya wouldn’t call him too often, just in case. As desperation took hold, a possibility struck the yaksha and he teleported away from the room he was currently in, before anyone could think to stop him.

‘You’re already much too late, little monster.’

Chapter Text

In all the centuries since… Ping had never missed his arms around her as much as she did now. She was terrified little Kaeya was dealing with something as deadly as that damned structure from Xiao’s childhood, and her head was in agony, and she just wanted to be held and comforted and cry.

And that wasn’t an option. He was gone, and not coming back, and she had a duty to perform. Her patients needed her, even though she’d already failed them so badly. To hurt another child with a reading, despite already knowing it was possible- she should have been more careful.

But arguably, she had failed Xiao even worse. She knew he was bearing the burden of the yaksha alone now. She knew how poorly he valued his own health and safety, how reluctant he was to admit his own pain. She knew that there was no way his karma levels had remained stable when every contaminated monster he slew would be adding to it.

And she hadn’t forced him to come in for a reading. She had just accepted his refusal, convinced herself he was fine, told herself if he was hurting more he would’ve requested more medication, when she had nearly had to force it down his throat from the start.

He would never forgive her, if he knew.

Ping knew she had to shove all this down and clear her mind. She needed to be able to think, in order to help. To not make any more mistakes.

Zhongli’s voice doubled in volume again and in response Barbatos’ raised in pitch, and pain stabbed through Ping’s head. All this yelling was just making things at least ten times harder.

“Will you two idiots stop yelling!”

Blessed silence, and the pressure of two Archons’ gazes. Ping groaned, rubbing her temples, and tried to rein in her temper. “You have been arguing over the same thing for hours now-”

“A blind idiot could see Xiao loves him-” She was going to strangle Barbatos.

“Just because a lazy buffoon like yourself has not been here to see-” Right after she wrung Zhongli’s neck.

“Enough!” This was not the time for this. They had far more important things to worry about. The three of them were about all the real support Xiao had, emotionally, whether he admitted it or not, and they needed to do all they could to prepare for his return. “Barbatos, if you can’t stop poking at emotional wounds and be helpful, you can get your Stars-damned hide back to Mond and let us deal with things. Archon or not, you know I can kick you from here to the border, and I will do so if your penchant for trouble continues to risk my patients.”

Zhongli was looking smug, but that wouldn’t last for long. She had words for him too, “As for you, you blockhead of a dragon, I’ve been telling you for centuries that there’s no way Xiao hates you, and I know I wasn’t the only one before that. Your stubborn insistence on the idea is only hurting the both of you, and I have about had it. He doesn’t need that right now, and your marinating in and arguing about your guilt is not helping to prepare for when he comes back from wherever he took Kaeya off to. And he will come back, so stop catastrophizing and start being productive, damn it! Or I’ll kick your ass too, see if I won’t!”

She turned away and swiped at her face, hoping neither god commented on the tears. Why she always cried when she was angry, she’d never been able to figure out, or prevent.

Zhongli’s voice was chastened when he finally spoke up, “What could we possibly do to help? He is gone, we can hardly tend wounds or comfort either of them…”

“Perhaps not, but there are things he’s going to need done that would be awkward, at the least, for him to do,” Ping replied tiredly. “Paperwork, for one thing. I think he’d feel he had to try for Kaeya’s sake, but with his karma, it’s best he not go into the Harbor. We can go and talk to Ganyu, at least get things started- if I recall, the yaksha contracts mostly listed you as a proxy for legal matters?”

“Paperwork?” Both gods glanced at each other, clearly lost.

“For Xiao to adopt Kaeya.”

There was a long silence, and even under the circumstances, Ping couldn’t help but chuckle at the poleaxed look on the dragon’s face. The man was brilliant in many ways, but he had such a complete lack of understanding of some things.

“But…he tried to leave Kaeya here, are you sure?”

Ping couldn’t even fault Barbatos for bursting out laughing this time, though she would’ve preferred he didn’t sound quite so condescending, “I told you! You’re worse than a blind idiot!”

Zhongli growled, and Ping sighed. They were back at it again. And would be going for another couple hours if she didn’t separate them. “Alright, that’s it. Barbatos, back to your own lands or wait here, it’s up to you. Zhongli, you’re coming with me to the Harbor. Now. We’ll stop by my teapot on the way for supplies.”

The healer didn’t wait for a response, turning around and stalking towards the abode’s passthrough. Seconds later, hurried footsteps followed her and she heard Zhongli’s worried, still confused voice, “What supplies?”

“Medicines and bandages for the boy. The latest batch of Xiao’s medication as well, and if we can spare the time, I want to try to mix up something stronger as a temporary measure until I can get him to hold still long enough to determine what his new mix should be.”

“New… mix? Why?”

She sighed. “Zhongli… he… I,” Ping stumbled to a halt. She couldn’t hide it from him, not as Xiao’s lord, or as his father. “I was foolish, and trusted him to tell me if he got worse, but he didn’t. And I let myself believe it was because he wasn’t getting worse, but in that quick reading… his karma… I’m not sure how he’s holding on, Zhongli. And all I can do is try to ease his pain, and hope it helps him to keep doing so.”

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

His head hurt. The screams weren’t helping.

…screams?

Who was screaming? Kaeya was pretty sure he wasn’t screaming. Was he? He couldn’t be, right? It didn’t sound like he was the one screaming, at least. He tried to think, where was he? He couldn’t quite remember, he could only remember Xiao holding him. The Khaenri’ahn just about jumped out of his skin as something soft fluttered by, brushing his arm gently. His eyes snapped open as he tried to figure out what it was. He relaxed just a bit when it registered that it was just a feather, almost the same shade of teal as Xiao’s hair. Xiao was still with him, so he had to be safe… Xiao wouldn’t hurt him, right?

Something twitched inside him, tearing into his side, and the dull pain that he dimly realized he’d woken with suddenly spiked and stabbed through him. He couldn't quite figure out what it was between the pounding of his head and the just… warm. He was so rarely this warm since he'd arrived in Teyvat, usually only when Xiao wrapped him in his wings. Shaking his head slightly Kaeya tried to clear his thoughts, but he just couldn’t. If anything, he simply found himself drifting back to sleep in what he could only assume was Xiao’s wings. But that was fine, Xiao would keep him safe…

Kaeya jolted awake again as whatever was in his side jabbed deeper, and then the next twitch coincided with a piercing scream. It didn’t take many repeats to realize the twitching and the screams had the same rhythm. Opening his eyes, the child was a little disoriented when his right eye didn’t hurt. Moreover, he couldn’t see out of his left, which was an odd turn from how things had been since he’d arrived on the surface world. Blinking up, the first thing Kaeya noticed was the odd… almost smoke? He almost didn’t notice the… monster? Wait, why was a monster holding him? That didn’t seem right. Monsters usually tried to hurt him, but this one wasn’t. Why? The monster let out another scream, once again digging what Kaeya could only assume were claws into his side.

It took him another minute or so of carefully watching before he saw past the fangs and glowing eyes and horns and noticed the familiar dark teal hair, the wings curving around him– Xiao. It was Xiao holding him. But what had happened to him? Had Kaeya’s curse infected him? It was the only explanation the little Khaenri’ahn could come up with. Something had to be affecting the adeptus to turn him into a monster. Something Kaeya was pretty sure could only happen to Khaenri’ahns, and he didn’t think anyone in Teyvat was cursed. He was told it was only the nation of sinners who had been cursed– his people. So if Xiao was also cursed then it had to come from him, right?

Kaeya’s gaze flickered back to the older male’s face where he watched in abject horror as the adeptus’ fangs grew longer. This was his fault. There was nothing he could really do, other than stay here with Xiao as he changed; it was the least he could do, after giving him the curse of his people, and after Xiao had saved him.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Zhongli truly had been neglecting Xiao, it seemed. What use was guilt, when it blinded him to the ongoing damage he was doing? When it drove him to stay away, and fail to recognize the additional harm the yaksha was doing to himself every day because he, who claimed to care for him, had done nothing to find another way? And surely the avian adeptus saw it, too. Despite the words of Ping and Barbatos, it was clear the dragon was to blame in his son’s eyes.

If Xiao wanted him around, he would not have left as he had, without so much as a word.

He would not have taken little Kaeya with him when he did, if he still trusted Zhongli at all.

Why did he always ruin things at the first opportunity, where his son was concerned? Had he learned nothing from his old friend, all those centuries ago? If anything, the yaksha was the last person he wanted to hurt, yet he regularly did so, without fail, every time he was granted the opportunity to interact.

The sound of children screaming in play jolted the dragon out of his musings, and he realized they were already almost to the gates of the Harbor. He was intending to just nod in greeting and keep going, but…

Why did they look so unsettled?

“Is something wrong, Han Chao,” the Archon asked, his voice calm and even despite the inner turmoil his thoughts were in.

The guard straightened with a jerk, “Ah- my apologies, sir. It’s just… the screaming. Rumor is that there’s a demon on the mountain, and the exorcists are being sent for- “

A demon?

Xiao!

If Xiao was in enough pain to be actually screaming– the level of injury that implied– the dragon swept up Ping in his teleport as well. He took them to a close enough place to the indicated peak to see the situation, without being close enough to invite immediate attack, then teleported closer himself.

He almost hoped whatever was hurting his son was imbecilic enough to make a try at him-

To his horror, his instincts had been accurate, and it was indeed Xiao’s screams he’d heard- and there was no enemy in sight. The screaming cut off even as he processed the yaksha’s altered appearance, the horns and fangs, the dissipating black smoke of karma, the smell of blood–

He had hardly taken a step before Xiao turned to him, hardly seeming to see Zhongli as he reached towards him–

Zhongli was running, his heart in shreds, even before his son finished speaking.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

He had to protect the child.

Pain twisted through him, tearing and burning and stabbing until he couldn’t remember where he was, when he was, who he was– as the thought passed through his head, names and titles sped past like falling rocks but he wasn’t sure which, if any applied to him- all he could remember, all he had to hold onto was that he had to protect the child.

A face wavered before his eyes. The only consistent thing about it was its youth; he struggled to focus past the agony, to reach for it, as the skin turned from pale to dark and back again, the eyes shifted between pink and blue and golden, the hair from a dark blue to lavender and back- other eye colors and darker hair mixed in from time to time, but mainly those—

Exhaustion dragged at his limbs, too familiar after filling in for so many fallen yaksha. So much of what determined the survival of their warriors depended on knowing exactly which creatures had been corrupted, and all too often there were more that weren’t mentioned in the initial report… they had to find a way to scout better. Liyue couldn’t afford to lose more yaksha, the toll from karma alone was already too high without losing more to routine patrols.

A faint rumble was just enough warning for him to leap skyward, dodging and preparing a hopefully final blow as the ground erupted beneath him. It was enough, just enough… then he saw the small hand, limply sticking out from the rubble…

The iron scent of fresh blood filled his nose, and something deep inside him seized. Not again, not again, too many innocents had fallen at his hands already-

He watched as his hands cut open another child, the screams and sobs of the waiting three echoing in his ears. His fingers trembled as he struggled desperately to stop, but as always, Master’s control was absolute. A sob of his own escaped, and a moment later a jolt of familiar agony swept through him as Master expressed his annoyance.

“Enough of this pathetic rebellion. You can no longer claim you don’t know how to do what I ask. Eviscerate the rest and hang them to bleed out in front of the villagers; that should sufficiently cow the stupid mortals and get them working again. If you force me to direct you so personally again, I promise you, you will regret it.” Master’s control cut off so suddenly that his arms snapped back and sliced his leg in passing. The pain was nothing compared to what he felt inside as he shuffled to the next child in line, larger than he but innocent in a way he could no longer claim.

He closed his eyes, desperately trying not to hear the boy’s pleas and screams as he began.

It should be him in those ropes.

Trembles ran through him as he struggled to remember why he had to fight, why he couldn’t just give in and die yet. Warmth oozed around his fingers as they clenched, and he wondered if that was real or the start of the next nightmarish memory–

Lifeless, empty eyes staring at him from a still-breathing corpse. Bloody parts strewn across a battlefield. The smell of blood so thick he could hardly breathe, the taste of dreams sickeningly sweet on his tongue, wanting more and hating himself for it, being praised for something he never wanted to do-

Agony and screaming and grief and guilt and it hurt so much why wouldn’t it stop–

Eventually, the pain began to fade. Slowly, so slowly that at first he thought he was imagining it, the memories and visions became less vivid, less all-encompassing. Those awful voices screaming in his ears, reminding him of every terrible thing he’d done, of every vile desire, of his own monstrous nature, faded back to the usual whispers. He began to be able to think again, little dribbles of true awareness around the edges of agony.

He remembered that he had a name.

That his name was Xiao, not Alatus.

That Morax had rescued him, saved him, had him healed, and allowed him to atone for his past by serving him.

That remembering this meant it was nearly over, that the pain and memories would all fade back soon, as much as they ever did.

The way his body shook uncontrollably was familiar, as was the sore rawness of his throat as screaming turned to uncontrollable sobbing. He knew he’d be useless on patrol for at least a day after this… he never seemed able to just force things down for a while after—

Something was different.

He wasn’t alone. There was something, someone in his arms-

Kaeya!

Xiao didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to see what he’d done. Didn’t want to know for sure that he’d killed his fledgling so soon after finding him, proved himself a demon through and through, a worse monster than those who had previously ‘raised’ Kaeya and left all those scars– but he couldn’t avoid it forever. He slowly cracked his eyes open and stretched his awareness of the real world, feeling sick as he became aware of the warm stickiness of drying blood on one hand.

Kaeya was still breathing. His body, at least, still lived. Xiao could feel the power of anemo still inside the boy’s small form, too, but whether that meant anything, he didn’t know. His siblings had still had their elements when they fell– more memories tried to swarm his mind, and he tried to force them away, tried to keep his head above murky waters because this was urgent- he had to know for sure if his fledgling was—

He couldn’t have survived. Xiao knew that. Even if his body was still warm, even if his blood still pumped, still ran down his side filling his nose with the scent of iron–

No, he had to focus—

Even if Kaeya’s body lived, he was mortal, his mind– how long had Xiao been holding him, trapping him, hurting him? Was there a chance? He didn’t know how to tell, he’d never been able to sense whether others were tainted once his own karmic taint had built up enough to obscure his senses- and if he’d destroyed his fledgling’s mind, he’d as good as killed him anyway.

“I am so sorry, fledgling.”

Xiao murmured the words softly, feeling them catch in his raw throat as he struggled to stop weeping, to sit upright despite the protests of his body. He couldn’t be weak now, his fledgling needed him. He’d always been able to be strong when he needed to be—

Keeping his steps smooth and even as he followed Master through endless tunnels, ignoring the way his knees kept trying to buckle beneath him-

No. No more memories. Kaeya was still breathing, there was still a chance, he had to find a healer, find Honorable One, she wasn’t just the best choice she was honest—

Soft, sad eyes stared down at him, welling with tears as she pulled her hands away.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s too much damage, you’ll never— “

He wrestled with his karma, with the pieces of dead gods residing in his soul, shoving them back. Not now! He needed to move, to find help-

He froze as his senses reached out instinctively.

Master was nearby.

How long had he been there?

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. Master was good and kind and could help if anyone could, would know where to find Honorable One– Xiao looked in the direction of that so-familiar, powerful presence, straining to see properly as the shadows finally, finally started to leave his vision– Honorable One was with him. There was hope—

“Master, please- Kaeya—”

The words caught in his throat, but Master must have heard him, because he was running towards them now, something unreadable in his eyes.

Chapter Text

“Master… please, don’t…”

Xiao’s bloodied face, pressed into the dirt. A trembling hand reaching for him in desperation, iron in his nose, screams everywhere and gut-deep terror settling into his bones. The crippling pain of a half-broken contract, and being grateful for that pain because it alerted him to—

By the time the Archon had pulled himself from his memories, Ping was already looking Kaeya over, the hatchling awake if a little disoriented. That was truly a good sign, perhaps the little one had survived being present during Xiao’s…. Stars, he hoped that had only been a karmic surge and not a karmic attack. Alas, he did not have high hopes of that being the case– it had gone on for far too long, which meant it was much more likely to be an attack. One that Xiao had come out of yes, but would he, could he survive the next one? Would he have to put the yaksha down when he next lost himself to his karma? The thought twisted his stomach with dread. When the dragon allowed himself to think about it, he realized that Xiao having even survived this time was a miracle, much less the fact that Kaeya had also come out of it apparently unscathed– for the most part, anyway– other than where Xiao’s claws had dug into the small child. Zhongli pushed down those thoughts, struggling to keep his mind clear. He could not be thinking about how close to disaster they had come, not right now. 

Kaeya should be dead or worse. How was it that he– no. No. He needed to stay focused. 

When Ping was done looking over Kaeya and healing what she could, the dragon suddenly found himself holding the Khaenri’ahn child. Whether he was shivering slightly from fear or the cold, Zhongli was unsure, but either way he cradled his grandchild closer. He hoped that he could offer him a little bit of comfort, this time, rather than scaring the poor hatchling further. “Kaeya,” he murmured softly, nosing blue locks of hair– both to reassure himself that the hatchling was fine, and to soothe the shaking child– “You are fine, I promise. I will not allow anything to happen to you.” 

Surprisingly, this actually did seem to calm Kaeya down, at least a little. It also had the child pressing closer of his own free will, to the dragon’s surprise, even going so far as to grab onto Zhongli’s coat. The Archon let out a low rumbling purr, trying to soothe the Khaenri’ahn further with what had worked on Xiao when the yaksha was young. The attempt had mixed results, unfortunately– but at least the child was not recoiling in fear. 

“Since he seems to be alright with you now, why don’t you go on down to the Harbor with him and get that paperwork dealt with?” 

He could not help growling a little at Ping’s suggestion, holding the child protectively close when he started shaking again. “I am not about to abandon Xiao.”

The healer let out a sigh, “I am not asking you to, but I can’t do my job with you hovering.” She must have known he was about to argue further, because she added, “Barbatos, I know you can hear me. Drag your fellow Archon and his grandchild to the Harbor for me, would you?” 

Only a few moments later, the aggravating bard was standing before the healer with the usual mischievous look in his eyes– undoubtedly he was already plotting something. It only lasted for a second, though, before the other Archon went the shade of alabaster. “Come on, Zhongli. We should go,” the smaller god muttered gently, pushing the dragon towards the Harbor.

“Barbatos,” came a low growl from the elder god before he nuzzled Kaeya, who had started shaking yet again– in response to the growl, he now realized. “I am not leaving.”

Quite suddenly, Zhongli found that they had reached the edge of the cliff. “Barbatos. What are you playing at?”

“Either you teleport us down there, or I push you off. Your choice.”

Clearly, the flighty god had been spending entirely too much time around a certain healer, but had failed to learn her restraint. Threatening to shove him off a cliff, while he was holding a child? Really? Letting another long-suffering sigh escape, the dragon grabbed the bard and teleported the three of them down into the plaza– realizing only after he was done that there was no reason Barbatos could not have brought them that way, himself. 

“Really,” whined the smaller god. 

“I did as you asked, Barbatos,” Zhongli replied, shooting a glare at the other god. “You could have done it yourself, if you were going to be picky.”

Dramatic as always, the green-clad bard whined again, “ Please remember to call me Venti.” 

 “I have a perfect memory, Barbatos. I do not forget things. Why should I call you by anything other than your name?”

There was a glint in the God of Freedom’s eyes as he answered the elder god’s question. “You call me that one more time and I’ll start calling you Morax.”

The dragon let out a low growl, “fine.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Barb- Venti said smugly.

Zhongli rolled his eyes at the younger god’s antics, mentally thanking him– not that he would ever tell him aloud– as he felt Kaeya relax in his arms just a smidgen more. Taking a deep breath, he set off towards the Qixing offices, checking to make sure he still had Kaeya’s vision with him. It would not do to separate the poor hatchling from it, on top of everything else. There was a slight stutter in his steps as he realized that with Ping taking care of Xiao… They needed a different healer to fill out the reports on Kaeya’s health. But who were the current healers living in the Harbor? Admittedly he had never seen a reason to keep track of the various mortal healers living in the Harbor before now. They lasted such a short time, and were generally irrelevant to his concerns. That would have to change now, just in case…

The Archon searched through his memories for the name of the healer Changsheng was currently working with– he had to know it, she sent him the new contract every time. It was someone new, was it not? Some unusually young man… Baizhu, that was it. It should be easy enough to locate a man bearing a snake adeptus on his shoulders– the dragon closed his eyes for a moment, feeling for the various pressures on the stone around him, feeling for somewhere there was a hint of adeptal energy tied with the approximate weight of a man. Turning on his heel Zhongli started making his way down various side streets, Venti trailing behind him like a lost child. 

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Baizhu straightened with a groan, taking a moment to stretch. At least he’d finally gotten the last of the shop cupboards fixed… but he was starting to reconsider whether it had been a good idea to acquire a location on the basis of being able to repair it himself over time. His health wasn’t the best, and was only going to get worse over time, after all.

“I told you to get a nicccer sshhopfront. On the main sstreet, perhapss, where you might actually attract ssome cussstomerss,” Changsheng hissed.

The young healer was sorely tempted to ignore her. The adeptus had been griping about his choice of location from the start, for all she’d conceded it was his choice to make. In the end though, he couldn’t help hoping yet another restatement of his reasons would finally get through. “Qiqi needs a stable environment, and too many customers would likely be overwhelming for her too. And I’m not so sure I’d be able to handle the numbers a more prominent location might bring in, either, given that I’m struggling just with simple repairs. I barely had enough funds saved for this location, in any case.”

“You could have sssaved for longer. You are a good healer, mortal. It wouldn’t have taken more than a few yearsss.”

Helpless laughter almost turned to coughing by the time Baizhu managed to speak, “‘a few years’ is a very different thing to a mortal, silly snake. I only have so many left, after all, and Qiqi needed a place to call home now.”

“Qiqi- ” Changsheng was interrupted by the bell over the door, and Baizhu turned to see a tall man carrying one child and trailed by another let themselves in. The children didn’t appear to be related to the man– one wasn’t even dressed like a Liyuen– and he looked to be very wealthy, so why in Teyvat had he chosen to come here of all places? Baizhu didn’t even have any regular clients yet who would recommend him, and someone like this could surely afford better.

“Ah, you must be Baizhu Xiānshēng.” The man’s voice was deep and cultured- he definitely came from money, then. “Would this be a good time for a consultation?”

“Of course. I have a room in the back for examinations, if you want something more in-depth. Are you the patient, or… would it be one of the children?”

Changsheng hissed at him, but he ignored it. Half the time she had no intention of explaining what annoyed her, anyway. The older child squawked, but many children were in denial about their status. Of more interest was the smirk that briefly showed on the man’s face.

“A private room would be quite appropriate, I think, yes. If you are amenable, after the examination, I would also like detailed documentation, including your conclusions, to use for adoption paperwork.” The man paused, looking at the child in his arms, and his voice softened. “Kaeya is to be my grandson.”

Grandson? At his age? He couldn’t be more than thirty… Well, some of the more established merchant families did marry their children off rather young, but still. And… he glanced again at the older child, and got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Jumping to conclusions was a good way to form a misdiagnosis. He should wait until after he examined the child- Kaeya– to make any decisions. But he was starting to suspect why this man had gone to a healer of no reputation with a shop down a back alley in the poorer part of the city.

He wished Changsheng would stop squirming around. “This way, please.” 

It wasn’t far– the shop was tiny, and the single patient room was one of only four in the back hallway. As he opened the door to show the strange trio in, Baizhu concluded the best course of action was caution, for now. He would do the examination, and thoroughly. He would heal as much as he could, and document everything, as the man had asked. And if his suspicions were correct… he would wrap the man in vines to hold him, and take the children and documentation to the millelith.

From the moment the man– who still hadn’t introduced himself- set Kaeya down, Baizhu realized it would be harder to hold to that plan than he thought. Anger mounted as he first recognized the manner of a severely abused child- the flinching, the silence, the shrinking in on oneself– and then when he began his reading and saw layer upon layer of old and newer injuries. Most were at least a few days old, but there was one that seemed very recently healed—

His examination was abruptly interrupted by the man speaking as Baizhu worked his way towards the boy’s head. “Do not magically inspect his right eye. A reading there caused him significant pain, before.”

A reading causing pain? That seemed highly unlikely. What was the man trying to hide? He was going to ignore that request, sure that whatever was there had to be even worse than what he’d found already, but as soon as he tensed, he heard Changsheng’s hiss in his ear. “Lisssten to him. Do ass he ssayss. I’ll ekssplain later.”

She was actually planning to explain? Interesting. Clearly, there was something going on here he didn’t know, but… it was hard to ignore the mounting evidence. 

If this was what he thought it was, and she wanted him to cooperate… He would cut her off and abandon her somewhere, contract or no contract. He’d take the consequences in a heartbeat, rather than be party to the ongoing harm of a child.

But for now… none of the area immediately surrounding the eye was showing even so much as irritation, so if there was something wrong there it was unlikely to be urgent. He finished the detailed reading, and swept his energies back through to some areas of inflammation, doing what he could to ease it. Dendro was not particularly suited for the task, but so little of what the child suffered from could be dealt with magically at all at this late date, he felt he had to do what he could to ease it nonetheless.

Now then, time for some answers, and decisions. The young man took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “You say Kaeya is to be adopted. How long–”

He was choked off as Changsheng actually tightened around his neck, hissing so close to his ear that he felt her tongue flicker against it. “Ssstop! That isss Reksss Lapisss, do not insssult him by quesstioning him!”

Baizhu froze.

What?!

He had only begun to process this new information and reassess the situation when he heard the back door open and close, and the light footsteps of his young charge. If Qiqi was back… he quickly considered the options this opened up, then poked his head out the door. “Qiqi, if could you join me in here, please?”

“Yes, Bai Xiānshēng,” came the familiar monotone, and Baizhu smiled at the girl as she approached. Zombie or not, it had always been clear to him that she was a true child, with just as much personhood as any other. There were plenty of reasons the fully living could have similar memory problems, after all… though admittedly that was not her only medical condition arising from her origins. He once again wished he knew a healer who used electro… with the right element, the damage to her brain, at least, could be reversible. 

“Qiqi, this is Kaeya. He’s a new patient. Could you keep him and…” He hesitated, looking at the unnamed older boy. “...his friend company while I deal with his paperwork?”

“Yes, Bai Xiānshēng.”

“Thank you,” he responded, then turned to… Rex Lapis, apparently. But he hadn’t actually been introduced, technically speaking. “I will be needing some information from you for the report, if you wouldn’t mind coming with me, ah… I don’t believe you told me your name.”

Baizhu wondered if he’d be honest.

“You may call me Zhongli.”

Apparently not. But then, Rex Lapis was known for wandering around pretending to be mortal. “Then, if you would follow me, Zhongli, my writing supplies are up front, and we can discuss everything that needs to be in the report away from young ears.”

Kaeya suddenly looked alarmed as the man moved towards the door, but Qiqi promptly took his hand and pointed out the window, talking about her finches. The distraction worked, and Baizhu couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for the girl. What a healer she could be, if they ever solved her memory problem… but that was a matter for another time.

“Changsheng, stay here and keep an eye on the children,” he whispered, placing a hand on the side table to make it easy for the snake adeptus to get down. “Please.”

Luckily she seemed cooperative at the moment; he’d expected some argument, but she slithered down his arm willingly enough, but her hissed question as he stepped out the door made him stumble. “What do you ekssspect me to do if Barbatosss missbehavesss?!”

…he was not going to think about the implications of that right now. Other things were more important. He was not going to think about that.

There was silence but for footsteps and paper for a few minutes as he considered the best approach for his questions, now that he was the only one in the line of fire. ‘Zhongli’ appeared content to wait and watch, and he couldn’t decide if he was grateful for the time to think, or unnerved.

Fuck it. He might as well get straight to the point. He placed his pen down and turned to meet his archon’s gaze squarely. “Are you responsible for the severe abuse and neglect that child has suffered?”

There was a long, tense silence, as Rex Lapis maintained that eye contact and did not answer. Then, finally, “I see. Is that why you separated me from him, then?”

The healer ignored the sweat he felt starting to bead on his brow, and the way his hands were starting to feel clammy. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he turned a child back over to their abuser, no matter who that was. “As a precaution, yes. Answer my question, please.”

“You can relax, Baizhu Xiānshēng. I am not going to attack you. No, I am not responsible for the… disgusting way Kaeya was treated, before my son found him–” Baizhu wasn’t sure how he was supposed to relax when the god was actively growling his words, now- “–and when I manage to track down the parties responsible, they will be meeting a very painful end. It is due to the evidence of such mistreatment that Kaeya is being adopted by Xiao and will not be returned to his former family, whoever and wherever they may be.”

Baizhu took a shaky breath, held it, and let it out. The exhale was less even than he’d like, so he repeated it a couple more times, until he could be reasonably sure of being able to speak in something at least approximating an even tone. There was only one adeptus he’d ever heard of with that name. Why, of all the adepti, was it the Conqueror of Demons that was adopting a mortal child?! And adopting, not just taking him on as an apprentice… he had never so much as heard of a legend with such a thing happening.

No. No, that was beyond the scope of his business. His job was to ensure the health of his patient, not to deal with the… sociopolitical fallout…

His head hurt, and he was fairly certain it had nothing to do with his illness, for once.

“I… see.” Baizhu took another deep breath. “And the more recent injury, that had already been healed?”

He had never thought he’d have the opportunity to see a god pale. Baizhu was pretty sure he didn't want to see it again, or whatever could cause Rex Lapis, strongest of the Seven, to go white just at the mention.

“There was… an accident. After dealing with Kaeya’s wound, our usual healer was occupied seeing to Xiao, which is why I sought you out for the report.” Rex Lapis went quiet, and Baizhu squashed the urge to ask what sort of accident could have such a result, or after the health of the Last Yaksha. It wasn’t his place, and he had his answers, and more than. “I am… grateful, that you place such weight on the wellbeing of your patients as to ask me these things. Do not fear that you have angered me. Quite the opposite.”

Baizhu took a deep breath, and this time felt some of the tension finally start to slip away. He was so very, very glad his suspicions seemed unfounded, and that he had not been executed for his… arguable rebellion, in pushing the issue. “In that case, why don’t you take a seat, and we’ll go over what exactly needs to be in this report. Then I’ll get together some supplements and medications to help Kaeya for the time being, and… pardon me, but his current clothing is… not precisely suitable. Qiqi is close to the same size, would you accept the loan of a spare set of hers for the time being?”

“I would be most appreciative of such a loan, thank you. While the purchase of clothing is on our itinerary today, the thought was to file his paperwork first, to ensure we do so before the offices close for the day. And you are correct, the shirt Xiao borrowed for him is… in regrettable condition now, and was not entirely suitable to begin with.”

“Then I will provide one for him to change into when I collect his medicines, and you can return it when you bring him back for a checkup in a couple weeks.” He was not so stupid as to try to order around his archon, but if Kaeya was never brought back for a checkup… he tried not to think about that, as the two sat down to work.

Sometime later, paperwork completed and duplicated for his own records, Baizhu had an unwanted second opportunity to see Rex Lapis pale, frozen, and staring at Qiqi. Ah… he must not have realized who she was, before. “Don’t worry, she is no longer a danger. Just a sweet, lost child, with some unusual problems and a talent for healing. Qiqi doesn’t even seem to remember who she was before.”

“I… see.” 

For a moment, Baizhu could have sworn his god looked wistful, and a little jealous, but the moment passed quickly. He ducked into Qiqi’s room, selecting the most neutral outfit he could and bringing it back out. “Here, Kaeya can change into these. I’ll be a few minutes getting everything ready for him.”

Rex Lapis stood concerningly still, staring at Qiqi a moment longer, then shook himself and accepted the proffered clothing with a nod and thanks. Baizhu shoved considering that into his growing pile of concerns for after they left, and headed into his storeroom to see if he had everything that was needed pre-prepared. If he had to make some of this from scratch, it would take much longer.

Thankfully, he still had a good supply of broad-spectrum supplement powder- he usually mixed in a little with more specific nutrients for those who had a lopsided diet, but Kaeya seemed likely to need everything. It would be rather bitter just mixed into water, but it worked just as well prepared with food, and sufficient seasoning should cover it up well. The pain medication would be more problematic, as careful dosage was critical- he wanted to ease the child’s pain, pain that he likely was not even fully aware of but would almost certainly be dealing with for the rest of his life, but even the mildest pain medications always carried risks when used long term or when the patient overdosed in the search for relief. After careful consideration, he dug out a bottle of pills he had made in case of a patient with severe arthritis– he didn’t have one yet, he had hardly any patients at all, but it was an inevitability- and began halving the pills for a more child-appropriate dosage. He couldn’t be sure they would do the job entirely, as they targeted the joints, but they would at least be a starting point and about as safe for long-term use as he could manage. He could reassess the problem on Kaeya’s next visit.

A few minutes to write down dosage instructions and a nutrition plan in a clear hand, packing all the supplies into one of the small canvas bags he had ready, and he was back to pass things over to Rex Lapis. “That sheet should have all the information you need. Well-seasoned foods will hide the taste of the powder better, and if the pain medication isn’t strong enough, don’t increase the dose- bring Kaeya here and we’ll go over options. Either way, I expect to see him in two weeks.”

His archon– and he still couldn’t get over the fact that Rex Lapis was standing in front of him– nodded as he looked over the paper. “Thank you. I will ensure he is brought back in two weeks then. What do I owe you?”

Baizhu blinked. Even if it weren’t his god asking… “I would never charge for a case like this. It’s far more important that children like him find safe homes.”

Changsheng would harangue him about it later, he was sure, but that was fine. She never seemed to like it when he didn’t charge his patients. But he was the healer, and what was right was right.

Rex Lapis nodded. “Then at least accept my thanks. Changsheng chose well, it seems, as she usually does.”

“Ah… thank you.” Was that why he’d chosen here? That… actually made sense. Baizhu’s mind was whirling as he escorted them to the door. Most of his remaining worries for Kaeya were settled as he saw the fondly protective way Rex Lapis scooped him up on the way out… and the way he gently corrected the boy’s pronunciation, as Kaeya quietly asked if they would ‘come see the zombie girl later’. 

He couldn’t help a smile at the thought that Qiqi might have made her first friend.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Finally. Venti was sick of waiting around and being quiet. Now they could go show Kaeya what fun was- maybe find a local bard to compete with– but for the moment the god just watched the little Khaenri’ahn as he eyed the local birds with fascination and adoration– only to realize that Zhongli was not taking them to the market district. “Wait, I thought we were taking Kaeya shopping after paperwork… This isn’t the way to the market that I remember… unless things changed again, in the last 500 years?”

At that the dragon rolled his eyes, almost as if he was going to ignore Venti’s question, then his voice full of scorn added, “We have not done the paperwork Barb- Venti. Do you not understand the concept of paperwork?”

“I know what paperwork is,” the Anemo god grumbled. “I just wasn’t expecting so much of it. I don’t think it’s that much in Mondstadt.”

“Naturally you chose to leave your people in unending chaos.”

Venti let out an indignant squawk, “no, I don’t! I give them freedom!”

“Pyrite is nothing more than fool’s gold,” Zhongli replied smugly.

“Stupid dragons and their stupid rocky quotes,” the bard grumbled under his breath. “They are not the same thing!”

The Archon’s heart just about melted when he heard Kaeya let out a soft giggle. He’d almost forgotten the little Dandelion was there for a moment. It was good the little one could still laugh, he’d seen far too many Anemo allogenes unable to do so honestly. He was not going to let that happen to Kaeya. He couldn't.

Abruptly, Venti realized they were in front of a frankly too-large building. Zhongli didn't even slow down, pushing through the doors and lightly tapping a statue on the secretary’s desk, which glowed briefly. It was only a few moments later that the trio was directed to an office by a rather shocked secretary who seemed a little unsure of exactly where they had to go, judging by her directions at least. When Zhongli opened the door to the office he found it empty, so they sat down in the provided chairs to wait. In an effort to keep himself from dying of boredom, the Anemo Archon talked the wind into ruffling not only the little Dandelion's hair but Zhongli’s. The latter caused the older god to glare at him, just before a young woman with light blue hair and horns adorning her head entered the room, looking rather frazzled. She paused for a moment trying to catch her breath before catching sight of Zhongli– at which point her eyes about popped out of her skull before she made a formal bow. “How can I be of service, Rex Lapis,” she asked nervously.

The Liyuen god let out a sigh before replying, “Ganyu, please, refer to me as Zhongli.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, does the child not know,” she apologized with another bow.

“He does.”

“But… if the deception is not necessary, the informality would not be showing the respect due your station as our god and Archon…” The poor thing looked about ready to collapse from nerves.

This had Zhongli letting out another sigh, and to Venti’s surprise, he dropped the topic, shifting his posture in an odd way that suddenly made him look positively regal. Venti had to learn that trick. “I require assistance in filing an adoption.”

“You’re adopting a child?” Ganyu peered assessingly at the little Dandelion for a moment, before turning to the filing cabinets and rifling through some folders.

“Not me. Xiao. And the child is mortal, so there may be some additional complexities in the paperwork.” At Zhongli’s words, the blue-haired girl froze. Then immediately went to grab another set of files setting both stacks on the desk. 

“You can start with those two while I go find the rest of the relevant paperwork. If you have any quest… nevermind sorry,” the cryo allogene said before rushing out of the office.

Venti looked at the stacks of papers, and died a little inside. He died further considering that it sounded like there would be still more to fill out. The kid would be so bored … well, he could fix that. “You can handle that, Zhongli. I’m going to tell the little Dandelion a story.”

Scooping up the little Khaenri’ahn the younger god settled in, thinking for a moment before settling on the tale of how he and Zhongli had met. A sanitized version, of course.

“Once there was a wind spirit in the north, who valued freedom above all else. One day, his brothers and sisters in the wind told him of a bird trapped beneath the stone, held by a dragon. The wind spirit was afraid of the dragon but he had to save the little bird. After all, birds needed the wind and the sky, not stone and earth, so despite his fear the wind spirit set off vowing to save the little bird from the mean dragon keeping him away from the sky.”

Zhongli humphed and glared at Venti for a moment, who just grinned at him before continuing. “The dragon, on seeing the wind spirit, flew into a fury. How dare this insignificant being come into his domain, and try to come after one of his people? The little bird was his to protect and look after. And so the two fought. The wind insisting that he was right and the dragon doing the same, the dragon certain that outside his reach the bird would be in danger, and the wind spirit sure the bird would die in his care, out of the sky’s reach.”

This time the old dragon was irritated enough to get up and steal the kid back, settling him in his lap. The little Dandelion looked confused, and then even more so when Zhongli started explaining the paperwork to him– Venti wasn’t listening too hard, he only heard snippets, but it sounded like the blockhead was giving him a full rundown on the legal technicalities.

As if a kid would understand a tenth of what he was saying. So Venti dissolved into the wind, reappearing long enough to retrieve his little Dandelion, then yoinked him back to the seat. “Now, where were we? Ah- ”

“‘You can’t protect a bird by keeping them from the sky,’ the wind spirit called to the dragon.

‘Beyond my reach, he would not be protected at all,’  the dragon roared back.”

“This is important, Venti,” Zhongli positively growled.

“What, filling his ears with laws and regulations an adult would struggle with? It’s not like he needs to know how the filing methods work or whatever you were telling him,” the bard retorted.

“I was educating him… though you may have a point about the concepts being a bit advanced for a hatchling.” The dragon paused to consider, and Venti wondered if the oblivious idiot even noticed little Kaeya’s sigh of relief. “I do still need him to come over here for a moment, though, to get his elemental signature on this document.”

“So long as you let me continue after.”

“Yes, yes. I suppose the tale you chose is appropriate, even if your word choice could use some work,” Zhongli growled. Venti grinned at him again, kicking his feet while he waited– why did Liyuens insist on making all their chairs so high? –and hiding his annoyance that Zhongli was making a show of hiding how they were doing this signature thing from him. As if he couldn’t listen in if he really wanted to. But it wouldn’t do to let the old thing know he was getting to Venti.

A few minutes later, true to his word as always, Zhongli released the little Dandelion. As soon as the boy was settled with him again, Venti resumed the story.

“Before either the wind spirit or the dragon could react, the little bird was between them, tears shining on teal feathers. The combatants realized that their argument was only hurting the one they both wanted to protect, so they settled down to talk calmly.”

Feeling the pressure of a familiar gaze, Venti glanced up to see that Zhongli was actually listening. With his full attention. Probably better not to comment… he hardly ever actually paid attention to the stories Venti told. He’d prefer to encourage the idea, not scare him off.  

“After a very long talk on exactly what the little bird needed, the dragon agreed to set the little bird free. The wind spirit smiled broadly, ready to welcome the bird to the sky, and to show him how to dance on the wind– but to his surprise and dismay, the bird just turned around and returned to the stone nest by the dragon’s side.”

Was Zhongli… crying? No, not quite… but those were definitely tears in his eyes. Why? Venti bent part of his attention to his siblings, listening to what the wind had to say in his ear… surely it was something he’d missed while asleep… oh.

When he’d gone to sleep, Bosacius was missing, but still alive. Apparently, that was no longer the case… and Venti was using his storytelling style.

Scheisse.

He’d better wrap this up fast, and distract his old friend with something else as soon as he could. A sugared-up child should do the trick.

“And so the wind spirit learned that you can’t force freedom on another- or it isn’t truly freedom at all.”

Ganyu– when had she slipped back in? That girl was a master of stealth– scooped up the papers, mentioning something about filing them next to Xiao’s, and they were free. Finally, finally, they were done with all the boring stuff, now they could do something fun –and distracting.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Kaeya found himself scooped up again as they left the building, but hardly noticed, mind whirring with all that had just happened. If he had understood right, he was now legally Xiao’s son.

But, why would they do that? Didn’t they understand Xiao would never want him around anymore, after the way Kaeya had just infected him with his curse? Even the idea that he might have wanted to before today seemed ridiculous, no matter how kind he’d been. After all, the first time the adeptus had seen him, he’d had to rescue Kaeya from yet another failure. That couldn’t have made a good impression. And since then he’d been needy, and less than cooperative on food, and run away from the person he’d been placed with… was this something the two gods had come up on their own, without Xiao’s knowledge? Was he going to get back and then be utterly rejected and dragged back here so it could all be undone?

…he couldn’t help but think that was what was waiting. But… if it wasn’t…

…if Xiao actually did want him, and Kaeya really, truly could be his son…

Kaeya both wanted to run from the possibility and cling to it for all he was worth. Xiao was kind and caring and protected him, even when the Khaenri’ahn’s curse had affected him. He was warm and strong and had fed him and… but if it wasn’t true, if he couldn’t have it, then embracing the possibility would mean hurting so much when it was ripped away…

His thoughts were cut short when a crystal-coated stick suddenly appeared in front of his face. Kaeya tried to jerk back, but Morax had too firm a hold on him for him to go anywhere.

“Whoa there, little Dandelion!” Barbatos’ light laughter seemed to fill his ears, and once again Kaeya was reminded that he was in the company of two gods who could decide to punish his sins and failures at any time. If they– the god kept speaking, and Kaeya forced himself to pay attention. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just a treat to keep you going until we get to dinner.”

A treat? But… it looked like a rock. On a stick. Did people on the surface eat rocks? He… was pretty sure he couldn’t… if he could, he wouldn’t have been nearly so hungry in the Abyss… if they expected him to… Kaeya cringed. He was liable to lose a few teeth at the least, if he solidly bit down on that. Was this his punishment, then?

“...have you never had rock candy, little Dandelion?” Kaeya slowly lifted his gaze to look at the Anemo Archon, staring at him in disbelief. Rock candy? What was candy? And why would that make this rock edible? Apparently, his confusion was easy to read, because Barbatos continued, “It’s sweet. You just put it in your mouth and suck on it, you’ll like it, I promise.”

…at least he wasn’t being asked to bite it. Kaeya cautiously took the stick from the god’s hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, stuck the crystal end into his mouth.

A few seconds later, he was sucking away with deep concentration, wishing he could get at the flavor faster. It was good. Kaeya didn’t have the words to describe it, it was like the fruit Xiao had given him but more so, and he’d never had anything like it— 

Food could taste like this?

Or was this something other than food, that existed just for this wonderful flavor in his mouth?

If this was some sort of strange rock, did that mean it would last forever and he could just keep sucking on it whenever he wanted?

Kaeya hardly noticed when they started moving again, all his attention focused on the amazing thing in his mouth. Were there veins of rock candy in the Abyss? If not, was that why his father was so angry all the time? He supposed he’d be pretty upset if he knew something like this existed and he could never have any, could only watch others eat it.

There was the rumble of voices that Kaeya was too distracted to bother with translating, and then he found himself gently set down on his feet and- to his dismay– the rock candy gently taken away. He must have failed to keep his face blank, because Morax spoke up, “You can have it back when we are done with the tailor, hatchling. We do not want to contaminate the fabrics.”

What was a tailor, or fabrics? And what did it mean to contaminate something? It didn’t really matter, he supposed, since he didn’t want to risk losing… all this… which meant cooperating with whatever the gods wanted for the time being. As odd as the concept of cooperating with gods still was…

A moment later a man was grabbing him, pulling his limbs this way and that and pulling a cord along them. Kaeya glanced up at Morax, frightened, but he and Barbatos were having a low conversation and not looking his way. 

He’d have to just… trust… that they knew this was safe…

He hated this.

Kaeya squeezed his eyes shut and bore with it, relaxing a bit as he heard the man step back, and say something rapidfire that the Khaenri’ahn couldn’t understand. Morax responded with a string of words in a calm tone, and Kaeya couldn’t understand those either, what was wrong with him that he couldn’t understand after all those years working with tutors— 

A hand squeezed Kaeya’s shoulder, and he flinched, looking up to meet Barbatos’ eyes. “Don’t worry, little Dandelion. The measuring’s all done, and Zhongli’s not going to let them do any fittings today. You’re just going to try on one of the outfits to make sure of your size, and he’ll get the others based on that.”

More words he didn’t know– and it took a moment to remember that ‘Zhongli’ was how Morax had first introduced himself-  but it was enough to work from, and he really didn’t want them to figure out he barely understood the surface tongue. So Kaeya nodded, and tried not to jump when a pile of fancy cloth was shoved at him.

Very fancy. He could feel it catching on the callouses on his hands, and surely he’d ruin them before long if his skin was enough to damage them– but before he could figure out whether to object, he was pushed towards a curtained-off area and told that was where he could get changed in privacy.

There was a little bench in the curtained alcove, and Kaeya set the stack there to unfold what he had thought would be some sort of shirt and pants. What he found instead…Three robes of different lengths and colors, a long wide strip of dark blue cloth, a thin fancy golden rope that was twice as long as he was tall… what was he supposed to do with this?!

Was he supposed to wear all those robes at once? How would he move? He’d be tripping and catching on things and… and what was he supposed to do with the strip, and the rope? He liked the colors, he did, but he didn’t know what to do with any of this and he was scared to admit it and prove he wasn’t from here and what if everyone on the surface knew what to do with these and he didn’t and then everyone would know and—

Kaeya hadn’t even realized he’d started crying, until he heard Morax’s voice through the curtain, “What is wrong, hatchling? Do you need help?”

He wanted to say no. He really wanted to say no. But if he said no and then walked out of here with the clothes all horribly messed up and put on wrong… “I’m sorry…”

“It is not a problem, hatchling. Is it alright if I come in?”

Kaeya nodded before he remembered Morax couldn’t see him. “Yes.”

The curtain rustled, and there was a moment of silence before Morax spoke again. “I apologize, hatchling. It should have occurred to me you would be unfamiliar with Liyuen attire. The first layer is the white robe. Do you want help putting it on?”

The Khaenri’ahn shook his head, quickly and carefully undressing and pulling on the white robe. He hesitated on how to tie it closed– one flap had a string at the right height, but the other didn’t— 

“You will find the other tie inside the robe, under the opposite armpit,” came the prompting, and with that help, Kaeya successfully found the string and tied things in place. For a moment he actually felt competent, until he realized that left the other flap loose and he was supposed to wear more and— 

“The golden robe next.”

Okay. Okay. He could do this. Kaeya pulled on the next robe, and then had to try not to panic when he realized it didn’t seem to have tie-strings at all, had he managed to tear them off already somehow?! What should he— 

“It is alright, hatchling. That layer is held closed with the sash and cord,” the god paused, thinking for a moment. “And I believe I should probably tie that for you, for now. I will teach you how to do it properly later. Lift your arms.”

Kaeya obeyed, his emotions warring between being glad he didn’t have to figure that part out and resentful that he wasn’t even allowed to try– until he saw how complex the knotwork was.

Better not to have proven himself a failure again…

“And now the teal overrobe, which you leave open, and you are done.”

He felt like he was drowning in cloth. Panic rose for a moment as it felt like the multiple too-loose sleeves were tangling around his arms and tying him up and no please let me go and then his hands were out and Morax was adjusting the fall of the sleeves– Kaeya forced his breathing to steady, looking down at himself. Why did the people here wear so many clothes? At least he was a little warmer this way, but…

“There you are. A decent fit, I think, and now you look properly the son of an adeptus.”

He did? If Morax was saying so, he must, but Kaeya wasn’t really sure what that meant. The Archon seemed to expect a response, so Kaeya nodded, then followed him out of the alcove. There was more excited talking that he didn’t understand, but he didn’t mind, taking the time to try to get control of himself again, and to shift around trying to get a feel for how to move in this pile of clothing without ripping anything.

To his relief, it wasn’t too long before he was handed a pair of things to put on– ‘shoes’, he remembered from his lessons, they went on his feet– and then the wonderful rock candy was handed to him. He lost himself in the flavor for a moment, then was jolted back to his surroundings by the feel of something moving at his waist, where the sash was– he looked down to see Morax’s hands clipping something to the fancy knot, and realized his Vision was dangling from some metal thing that was now attached there.

For a moment, he wanted to object, but… Xiao had wanted him to keep it close…

Kaeya brushed his fingers across the glassy stone, following the gods mindlessly. He still wasn’t sure what to make of receiving the thing. At first, he’d thought it had to be a joke, or an accusation– Celestia’s way of saying they knew he was there- but there’d been no other sign of such a thing, and everyone who’d been so very nice to him seemed to think it was important and good. He just didn’t know what to think.

Abruptly Morax shot an arm out, swept a hat off a rack, and slapped it onto Barbatos’ head. The shorter god positively wailed, staring at the elder in confusion and accusation, “What was that for?!”

“You needed a hat,” Morax responded evenly, and passed something to the man who had yanked Kaeya’s limbs around earlier.

Barbatos was clearly fuming, and Kaeya found himself very glad Morax was between him and the Anemo god. “So you felt the need to hit me with it?!”

“Perhaps that way some thoughts could be knocked loose as well.”

Incoherent screeching followed, and Kaeya cringed, at first, but then Morax offered him a hand and smiled down at him. “Do not worry, he simply enjoys making noise.”

“I am not just making noise!”

“You are being dramatic to no point, and your words are only discernible about a third of the time. How is that not mere noise?”

Kaeya couldn’t help but keep worrying, but only a few minutes later Barbatos stopped screeching and started grinning as Morax handed him a beautiful… instrument, maybe? It was wood and strings and carved beautifully like flowers caught in the wind. The Anemo god immediately started moving his fingers across the strings and much nicer sounds than before began to fill the air.

That began a whirlwind of events that Kaeya eventually gave up on keeping track of in favor of focusing on his rock candy any time things weren’t directed at him. He was shown any number of colorful objects and asked his opinion on them, but he didn’t know what most of them were, so he just defaulted to nodding when asked if he liked them. It was easier and didn’t require taking the tasty crystal out of his mouth.

Usually, that was followed by conversation between Morax and a random person, mostly more words he didn’t understand, and then the god would hand them something that glinted in the sun and the brightly colored object would disappear.

Unfortunately, Kaeya’s rock candy was disappearing too… slowly the edges were rounding and it was getting smaller.

A silvery metal rod with swirls of teal and a multitude of holes made Barbatos almost as happy as the wood thing. This time Morax noticed the way Kaeya was watching him pass shiny things to the man who had a bunch of those metal rods- or tubes? –on shelves and tables by the street.

“Did you have a question, hatchling?”

Well, now he had a new one. Why did none of them seem to want to call him by his name? They each had a different word for him and he didn’t know what any of them meant. But that was for later. Kaeya felt himself bounce a little as he peered at Morax’s other hand, now empty, and reluctantly pulled the precious, delicious rock candy out of his mouth for long enough to speak. “What is that shiny stuff you keep giving people? And where do the other things go? Why are there so many people out here just standing with piles of things?”

Morax blinked for a moment, then smiled broadly. “I was giving the merchants mora, in payment for their goods. Here, this is what they look like,” and he handed Kaeya a small, round golden disc, “Mora is inherently valuable because it can be used to enhance enchantments, and thus is useful for trade because it has a steady worth anywhere in Teyvat. Merchants– the people you see lining the streets- sell things they have made or acquired for mora, which they can then exchange for things like food and clothing that they need in turn.”

This little thing could be exchanged for food? Kaeya stared at the little gold coin in wonder, and then a thought occurred to him. “Could this be used to get more of the rock candy?”

Barbatos laughed. “I told you he’d like it, Zhongli! Kids always like candy.”

The taller god huffed. “Yes, yes, you were right in this instance. Yes, hatchling, you could get candy for mora, along with pretty much anything else. I will give you a starting supply later, I think, and if you ever need anything when you are without it and I am not along, you can have it charged to Zhongli of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.”

“Whoa, that’s a lot of trust there, Zhongli, are you sure?”

“I am hardly likely to run short.”

“Yeah, but—”

The two descended into bickering again, but Kaeya hardly noticed, instead looking back and forth between the magical mora in his hand and all the colorful displays around him. He didn’t know what most of it was, but some stalls had food and– there! Crystals like the rock candy that was almost gone now, and other odd little bright things—

He’d hardly started to tug in that direction when Morax picked up on what he was after, and a few minutes later he had not only a fresh crystal, but a pouch full of more and other kinds of ‘candy’ for later. The whirlwind of activity resumed, but this time Kaeya looked at things with more intent, and more things disappeared ‘for later’.

Barbatos moped at a stall full of bottles at one point, and Morax got him one, for some reason telling him not to drink it within his borders, whatever it was. The Anemo god seemed delighted.

By the time they got to the last stall, Kaeya’s legs ached and felt like tubes of slime, and he was trying to pretend he wasn’t yawning. He’d long since finished both the original rock candy and the replacement, but the objects here were different. They looked soft, and they were shaped like creatures. Right in front was a pile of little ones that reminded him of the little birds Qiqi had shown him, and further back there was a dark teal bird with a crest and long tail that somehow reminded him of Xiao, and next to that was a brown and gold dragon that looked like the stories he’d grown up hearing about Morax –stories that were increasingly hard to believe, in the fading light of day with a mouth that was still full of that sweet taste of the crystal he’d been given.

He’d had such a wonderful day, he wanted Qiqi to have one too. Decision made, Kaeya picked up one of the little birds and offered his mora to the merchant, only for Morax to push his hand down.

“I will get that for you, if it is what you want, hatchling.”

Kaeya shuffled his feet. “It’s not for me. Qiqi was nice to me earlier, and I thought she might like it… it’s like the birds she showed me…”

The god stilled for a moment, then Kaeya found himself scooped in a tight hug. “Of course. I will have it sent to her, along with an outfit I acquired for her earlier. It is a good thought, hatchling, and I am very proud of you.”

Morax was… proud of him? He had done something right? When was the last time he had done something right? He couldn’t remember. He certainly didn’t remember his father ever saying he was proud… or even that he’d done something right. He’d always disappointed his father, no matter what he did. 

How was he supposed to respond to that?

Kaeya settled for hugging Morax back, and that seemed to make him happy, at least. A few moments later the small bird was purchased and put away, and he found the other two he’d been looking at shoved into his arms. He held them very tight, not wanting to drop either, and buried his face in the soft things. 

When he lifted his head again, Kaeya was inundated with smells that made his stomach growl despite the rock candy. He cringed for a moment, expecting a reprimand, but Morax just chuckled. “You will have something to eat shortly, hatchling. We thought to treat you to dinner before going to see if Ping is done with Xiao.”

They were feeding him? They’d gotten him all these wonderful things and now they were giving him more food too? Kaeya knew he should be content with what he’d had, the two sticks of rock candy were more than he had most days back in the Abyss, but… it had been nice, eating more, the last few days. And whatever they had here smelled so wonderful…

At the same time, once they were seated, Kaeya found himself fighting to keep his eyes open. He could have sworn he hadn’t been tired a minute ago, he shouldn’t be tired now… they had been so very much more than just nice and the least he could do was stay awake and pay attention. But they were talking and he couldn’t focus on the words, he didn’t think he’d be able to understand even if they were speaking Khaenri’ahn … he looked up blearily and was glad to see they were talking to someone else.

Good. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know what they said, then.

Kaeya wasn’t entirely sure how long he sat there in Zhongli’s lap quietly swaying, but at some point, he blinked and the smells were stronger and the table was covered in plates full of unfamiliar things. The two gods continued conversing over his head, but Zhongli handed Kaeya something round and golden and encouraged him to eat it, so he popped it in his mouth whole.

At first, it was good, all warm and he didn’t know the words for how the flaky exterior tasted but it was good. But then he bit down, and there was a moment of juice that tasted vaguely meaty –and then his mouth was full of pain.

How could something full of liquid feel like fire? They ate this?! Neither of the gods seemed to have any problem eating those golden balls, and neither did anyone at any of the tables Kaeya could see, what if it was something that only affected him because he was Khaenri’ahn and didn’t belong here… he struggled not to shake, to chew enough to swallow the horrid thing, because he couldn’t spit it out, he couldn’t, it was a gift and he’d eaten worse things, he knew he had, he just couldn’t remember them right now— 

Kaeya felt tears and sweat trickling down his face and shame washed through him. They’d notice, and they’d know how ungrateful he was, how useless and weak— 

There was a burst of wind and Barbatos was gone. He must have been so insulted, Kaeya wished he’d had a chance to at least say he was sorry, but he felt like his jaw was locked, he couldn’t spit the thing out now even if he wanted to. But the god wasn’t gone long, there was more wind, and then something greasy was being shoved in his hands and a cloth was being held to his mouth.

“Here, spit that out and eat this instead. It’ll help. Zhongli, I know you’re an idiot, but really? You order the spicy stuff for a kid?” Barbatos said, sounding irritated. Somehow, when it was an order, his jaw unlocked and Kaeya was able to get the fireball out, but it took a moment to gather the courage to put the new thing in his mouth. Once he did, the fire eased almost immediately, if not completely, and he was able to pay more attention– just in time to see Barbatos hit Morax’s shoulder. “Were you trying to give him the same issues as Xiao?”

Suddenly Morax was still as stone, and felt dangerous, and Kaeya didn’t want to be there, desperately wanted to hide but he couldn’t move, that could trigger something and he didn’t want to know what— 

“Barbatos-” Had Kaeya thought Morax was growling before? It was nothing in comparison to that one word the god got out before Barbatos interrupted. Interrupted. Morax.

Kaeya was going to die. He was going to die caught between two gods in deadly combat—

“I’m sorry. That was a low blow. I went too far. I’ll make it up to you later, but for now… I think we’re scaring Kaeya, and we’ve all had a long day. Why don’t we go across the street and listen to that storyteller for a bit? You can have fun telling me all the ways he’s being inaccurate.”

He had completely failed to hide his reaction, then. Even when they’d been so nice all day, he’d continued to be a failure, it had to be his fault things had gone wrong. If only he’d been strong enough to force himself to swallow…

Morax lifted Kaeya onto his hip, carrying him to the comfortable seating across the street before settling the Khaenri’ahn in his lap again. Arms closed around him, holding Kaeya close, and that soothing rumbling started up in the god’s chest again, but it still took a long time for him to relax again.

Still, eventually the tears stopped, and Kaeya drifted out of awareness without ever taking in a word of the storyteller’s tale.

Chapter Text

Xiao finally managed to stand, if shakily, and looked up to find himself alone on the mountaintop with Honorable –with Madam Ping. He couldn’t help but wonder for a moment if Morax and the fledgling were a figment of his karma; a hallucination imposed on him just so the dead gods whispering in his soul could rip it away. Maybe he’d never actually found a little boy on patrol—

“Now that they’re gone…” Xiao’s thoughts were yanked out of the pit they had been sinking into as Madam Ping began speaking. “Xiao… has this happened before?”

Oh.

Of course she’d want to know, that’s why he’d been avoiding her for –centuries, at this point– but he really didn’t want to get into it. Now, or ever. It wasn’t like she could change anything; they all knew he had a death sentence.

He could always just leave, like he had before. He didn't really need to answer her, right?

“Don’t you dare.” The words were accompanied by a hand suddenly gripping Xiao’s wrist, and he resisted the urge to bring a fist down on the connected forearm. Madam Ping wasn’t an enemy. She was family. So he just… tugged a bit, hoping she’d let go.

She didn’t.

He hadn’t really thought she would.

“Xiao, please, talk to me. I can’t help if you don’t tell me how bad it is.” He hated the shakiness in her voice. “Please, Xiao. Let me help you.”

The yaksha huffed a sigh and looked away. “You can’t anyway. You know that.”

There was silence for a moment, a hitched breath, and Xiao felt his heart crack like stone. Ping shouldn’t cry. She should never cry, Saish would be so upset if he were here… but he wasn’t, and could never be.

“I can’t cure your karma. But I can alleviate the symptoms, and if that slows it down…” Another hitched almost-sob that he wished he couldn’t hear. “Xiao, Kaeya needs you to be here at least a little longer. Zhongli needs you. And… I’m not sure if I can bear to lose you, too.”

Cursing under his breath, Xiao turned and gave the healer a hug, still not looking at her directly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” and why couldn’t he manage more than a whisper? “Usually I can get to somewhere no one can hear me–”

“Usually?!”

He winced, and didn't answer the implied question. Maybe if he didn’t respond she’d let it go…

“Xiao… sweetheart, how many attacks have you had since…”

Since… since he’d become the last. She’d have had a regular report on things up until then, probably. “I don’t really remember.”

Because there were too many to count, but she didn’t need to know that. He should have known that evasion wouldn’t get past Ping, though. “How often?”

When another tug didn’t get him loose, Xiao grimaced and gave in. “About once a month,” he tried to shrug with the words, but Ping’s grip on his arm restricted the motion. “Don’t worry about it, I’m used to it, I just—”

“Once a month?!”  

“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out before Xiao could stop them, before he even knew they were trying to get out. But he was. This was why he’d been avoiding her –he knew it would hurt her, worry her, and he didn’t want that. Ping deserved better than to be hurt by him, just like everyone else.

Hurting people had always been what he was good at.

“What? Xiao, no, sweetheart, you didn’t… alright, you should have told me sooner, but your condition isn’t your fault.”

It was. It was his own choice to keep fighting, even once they all knew the cost, and it wasn’t a choice he regretted. He just wished he could do it without others paying part of his price. 

The pain and madness was a fitting end for a thing like himself. Ping deserved better, and so did Morax. So had Saish.

If he voiced that, Ping would just argue, and it would cause her more pain… so he stayed silent.

He should’ve known that wouldn’t work.

“Stop that. You know I wouldn’t lie to you, Xiao.” Suddenly Ping was the one tugging on his arm, and he felt arms around him –lower than he expected– and the yaksha realized he was looking down at the top of her head. Since when was he the taller one? “It’s not your fault, Xiao. It never was.”

Her grip was as strong as ever, but somehow Ping also seemed frail, and it shook Xiao enough that he returned the hug. He’d known she’d been aging, it was impossible to miss these past five hundred years, but… this was different, somehow.

“I know you believe that,” Xiao whispered. “I know he believed that. I’ve never agreed. Maybe it was true for the others, but…”

“If it’s true of the other yaksha, how can it possibly be your fault?”

Xiao couldn’t answer that. It was obvious to him. He was tainted, cursed, and reasonably so given the terrible things he had done. He couldn’t blame his old Master for all of it. So much of the time, he had had a choice, no matter what others said.

Ping heaved a deep sigh, and guilt surged through Xiao. He barely had a chance to start considering how he was making her life harder, though, before she interrupted his thoughts. “We can discuss that later, I suppose. For now… how much is your current dosage helping?”

Heaving a sigh himself, Xiao resigned himself to at least an hour of discussing things he’d really rather not think about.

✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧

‘At least an hour’ turned out to be an understatement. The sun was setting by the time things were wrapping up, and even as Ping was handing him some new medication to carry him over for the time being –and dosage instructions that he knew he’d never remember to follow– he felt Morax return with his fledgling. And Barbatos. Relief flooded through him for a moment before he turned around to greet his lord, spotting Kaeya – his fledgling– limp in his arms. Dread pooled in his stomach and for the barest moment, he thought Kaeya was dead, that something had gone horribly wrong –but no, he could sense him, so what was– Xiao felt a hand on his wrist.

“He’s just asleep Xiao,” the soft words penetrated his rising panic. “I imagine seeing the sights in the Harbor wore him out. And I suspect they gave him some sugar, which would contribute to his exhaustion.”

What? Why would that… Confusion filled his voice as he asked, “sugar tires out mortals?”

Ping let out a laugh before she explained, “In a manner of speaking. Children especially can get very energetic when they eat a lot of sugar, and wear themselves out before they realize it.”

The yaksha tilted his head thinking for a moment. Sugar sounded like it was almost a poison to mortals –but then, many things were, that had no effect on adepti. He would have to keep that in mind.

His musings were interrupted when he suddenly realized Morax was in front of him and handing him something –when had he gotten there? Was he angry that Xiao had failed to show him courtesy? He didn’t seem angry, but– The yaksha jerked himself out of his thoughts again, trying not to sway on his feet as he took the bag, exhaustion suddenly hitting him like a falling cliff. 

“You will want to put that over your arm,” Morax said softly, “so that you can carry your son easily as well.”

For a very long moment Xiao blinked at his lord, confusion just barely visible on his face, as he processed the words. His son? The word felt right, but—

He abruptly realized that while he was thinking he’d taken his fledgling into his arms, and that Morax was trying to hand him something more, and speaking again. “This is your copy of the paperwork. It has all been properly filed and legalized, so no one should question that Kaeya is yours. I will stop by the Wangshu Inn tomorrow with the rest of his purchases, after the presentation.”

Xiao wasn’t sure when his mouth had opened, but words weren’t coming out, so he closed it, silently taking the papers –only to next have a pile of fabric pushed at him, and no hand free to take it. “These are for Kaeya to wear tomorrow.”

Letting out a sigh, Ping shook her head before taking the bundle of clothes from the god and tucking it into the bag with… whatever else was in it. “Here, let me help,” she said, sounding slightly exasperated.

The yaksha’s mind seemed to sputter between racing and smashing to a halt against nonexistent cliffs. Son? Paperwork? Presentation –oh. Oh. Morax must have filed the adoption paperwork for him, so he wouldn’t have to go into the city—

Wait. Presentation?!

An adopted child adeptus would have to be formally presented to the other adepti, true, but Kaeya wasn’t an adeptus. Mortals weren’t adopted by adepti, they were taken on as students but not adopted –but Morax had called him Xiao’s son– and there was no standard paperwork for taking on a student, as far as he knew, just a personal contract worked out on an individual basis—

But he didn’t view his fledgling as a student. Did Morax know that, somehow? Was that why he’d done things differently? He stared at the papers he was holding, struggling to read the modern Liyuen, to verify, but he hadn’t had to deal with paperwork in centuries.

What did it say?

“What’s wrong, Xiao?” Ping’s soft question jolted him out of his thoughts, at least enough to figure out what he needed to ask.

Getting multiple words out was another matter, though. “...presentation?”

“The formal presentation of Kaeya as your son to the other adepti, of course.” Morax sounded… odd, for some reason. “There is formal wear for you in the bag, as well. Or… did I misinterpret?”

The sudden thought that Morax could take his fledgling away again had Xiao answering in a panic, “no, no, mine, don’t take him, please—”

He was backing away, looking for an escape and half a second from teleporting when Ping’s calm voice reached his ears. “No one’s going to take your child. Zhongli, please consider your words more carefully?”

“I was trying!”

“Not hard enough, apparently. Xiao, no one is going to take Kaeya away from you. That’s what those papers mean, and why you’re going to show him to all the adepti tomorrow and claim him as yours, right?” Ping stared at him until he nodded, then continued. “So why don’t you take your child home, and both of you get some rest. You have a busy day tomorrow.”

Xiao nodded again, glad for the excuse to leave. Ping’s voice chased the yaksha as his power swirled around him—

“Don’t forget to take your pills!”

✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧

A formal presentation. How long had it been since Xiao had spoken in front of others in such a way? Since there had been enough yaksha left for him to need to give orders? And this wasn’t the same thing. This was more akin to when he’d been presented himself, on being raised general.

As Xiao gently set his fledgling on the bed, he remembered that Morax had also said he’d be coming by –and his room was not exactly neat—

Cào.

He was exhausted, but as tempting as curling around his fledgling for the night was, he could not let his lord see the place looking like this. And what if Morax wanted to see his abode proper? Now that Xiao thought about it, the little inn room –while quite sufficient for a yaksha who hardly ever needed a place to rest– was not entirely suitable to raise a child in, by itself. He likely would need to set up his abode for Kaeya sooner rather than later. He might as well do that while making things… well, at least presentable. He’d never be able to match his lord’s artistry. First thing he should… where was he supposed to start? How was he supposed to do this and not wake up his sleeping fledgling?

Where was he going to put everything? He didn’t have any storage in here, really, he’d never needed it but if he had things just piled everywhere Morax would think he was utterly incompetent and—

Kaeya stirred in his sleep, and the yaksha froze.

Minutes passed, and his fledgling simply breathed softly and evenly, and Xiao slowly calmed back down. He knew from his early days how to clean; how had he forgotten? One thing at a time. Gently, he tucked the blanket higher around Kaeya, then set about neatening up his room as quietly as possible, ignoring the weight of exhaustion dragging at his limbs.

Really, there wasn’t that much to do, once he’d actually started. He’d never had that much in here to begin with; it was mostly the new things for his fledgling that were cluttering things up. As for where to put them… Xiao stared around the room for a moment, anxiety rising again –and his eye caught on the entrance to his abode.

Of course. He had to tidy up in there anyway, and he could easily make all the storage he needed. The yaksha gathered the spare clothing, bag, extra bedding because apparently he’d grabbed more than his fledgling actually needed, other random items – not the two stuffed animals Kaeya was clinging to, he would never– and walked through what any mortal would assume was just a mural on the wall.

He immediately saw his mistake. 

True, he could reshape his abode as he wished. He could, in theory, set up all the storage he needed. But… Xiao’s abode was full of all the pretty stones, bits of ore, chunks of lapis, trinkets and such he’d gathered over the millennia. Mostly just…strewn anywhere and everywhere. Some bigger than he was. All gathered to give to someone who probably wouldn’t even care , who would be offended to be handed such useless garbage –it would take hours, if not days, to gather it all out of sight before Morax arrived. Before he could see, and realize how stupid Xiao had been, that he’d never quite been able to let go of—

No. He couldn’t do this. Not right now.

Xiao dropped his armload –they’d be perfectly retrievable from this hallway later– and left his abode to curl around his fledgling.

He wasn’t shaking. He wasn’t allowed to be. He didn’t have time to be weak and emotional right now, the way he always was after an attack. Kaeya needed him. He had a formal presentation to prepare for. He had to be fine.

He’d just rest a moment or two, remind himself his fledgling was safe.

He was fine.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

“The oddest thing happened this week.”

Cloud Retainer’s attention immediately focused on her daughter, all thoughts of breakfast forgotten. Usually she had to pry the gossip from Ganyu with strings of probing questions, just to get a sense of how the youngling was doing –what could have happened to cause her to speak up unprompted?

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem she intended to continue on her own. The girl sat there, staring at her plate of flowers with a furrowed brow, not speaking. That wouldn’t do.

“And what was that, Ganyu?” 

The girl jerked at the question –or perhaps the annoyance in her tone, Cloud Retainer wasn’t always able to be as gentle with the girl as she probably should– and given the momentary confusion on her face, Cloud Retainer found herself wondering if Ganyu had been aware she’d spoken in the first place.

“Oh. Uh, well, Rex Lapis came to the office yesterday, to file adoption papers. For a mortal child. I mean, he has every right to, of course, but it just struck me as odd, even though he does have the necessary forms filed to do so on his behalf…” The words meandered to a halt again, and Cloud Retainer wondered how much rest the girl was getting. Really, her mind should be sharper than this.

“On whose behalf? And how much sleep did you get last night, Ganyu? Don’t tell one that old dragon had you up all night filing things.” Really, he would forget that people needed things like food and rest, if he was focused on something. And completely miss all signs of exhaustion in those around him.

“Rex Lapis isn’t old!” Ganyu paused for a moment, thinking. “Okay, maybe he is, but not that way. And no, he was quite reasonable and kind, and they’d left well before the end of my shift.”

Cloud Retainer waited patiently, dipping her beak in her tea. Now that the girl was talking, there were decent odds she’d mutter her way back around to the topic at hand, and drop other interesting tidbits along the way.

It didn’t take long.

“It really was straightforward. I mean, almost all the yaksha gave Rex Lapis the rights to handle just about everything on their behalf.” Cloud Retainer felt herself stilling into place, her stomach twisting. She couldn’t mean… “Still, I hardly expected to be digging those files out for something like this! Who would have ever thought the Conqueror of Demons would want to adopt a child?”

The crane felt rooted in place, her very feathers as heavy as stone. This was… wrong, so very wrong. A child, in his hands? This was more than just wrong, it was disastrous. But Ganyu had such a sweet heart, was so naive, despite Cloud Retainer’s warnings the girl still honored him for what she saw as a noble sacrifice, rather than the rightful punishment it was.

So no matter how outrage simmered in her heart, Cloud Retainer would have to keep her tone light and polite, if she wanted more information. “Oh? One finds this a considerable surprise. How did such a thing happen?”

“The poor thing was apparently rescued by the Conqueror of Demons on patrol, and they found signs of abuse after, so he’s keeping him,” the admiration was clear in Ganyu’s voice, for all it turned the crane’s stomach. What would that monster do with a child who saw such things as normal, and would keep quiet? The best they could hope for was neglect; Cloud Retainer, of all people, knew the yaksha’s taste for blood and death. The poor thing wouldn’t last a year.

She would have to convince Rex Lapis to give the child over to her, instead. The announcement had yet to be made, the presentation had not yet occurred; contracts could be changed, if the parties agreed. And for all the horror he caused, he obeyed Rex Lapis. If the Geo Archon ordered it, he would comply. “Did Rex Lapis happen to mention when the presentation would be? One would hate to miss it.”

“This evening, I think. I imagine the announcements will reach everyone by noon.” Ganyu suddenly jerked straight. “Oh no, I don’t have anything to wear!”

The perfect excuse. If the announcements were going out so soon, Cloud Retainer needed to reach Rex Lapis now, and that meant her daughter needed to leave, as much as she hated to rush her out normally. “Then you should remedy that immediately, Ganyu. One enjoys your presence, but one’s daughter must be presentable for such an event. The day is young, there is time, go, find a tailor. One will pay for the rush order if necessary.”

Naturally, the girl tried to demur, but she did at least take the point and get moving. As soon as Ganyu was out of sight around the path, Cloud Retainer was flying towards a certain mountain.

Rex Lapis was too kind, too blind, could not see the danger in that deceptively young-looking form. The so-called Conqueror of Demons was no innocent child, and Cloud Retainer had no intention of letting him destroy any more lives.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Zhongli managed to wait until Ping had left his abode, at least, before allowing his expression to crumble. It was all well and good for her to tell him not to blame himself; but how could he not? Who else was he to blame? Certainly not her, he knew every one of Liyue’s healers had done everything they could conceive of, trying to solve the karma problem. There was no more he, or anyone else, could ask of any of them. 

He, on the other hand, should have prevented it in the first place.

Every yaksha lost, every mortal or adeptus afflicted by close association with those so tainted, those poor children who had never even gotten a chance to experience life because their parents were paying the price of protecting Liyue from the results of his mistakes –they all weighed on his conscience. He would not, could not forget a single one of them, or his own unthinking disregard of all the clues that could have led him to prevent all of this in the first place. If he had only paid attention during the war… the whole mess was because they had been rushed for a solution, once they had peace. Because he had been too stupid to recognize that beings as powerful as gods would not simply disappear when they died. Because once they had something that worked, he had stopped looking for answers, and let his most elite warriors, who had already sacrificed too much, bear the burden.

And now, the last of them, his son, had been suffering far more and far longer than any of the others, and he had not even noticed.

Once a month. Xiao had admitted to Ping that he was having karmic attacks once a month –and if that was what he was admitting to, how much worse was it? How many attacks had any of the yaksha before him survived? Two, three, maybe a few more with the most resistant? Xiao had apparently experienced hundreds. How many more could he hold through? How long until… Until Zhongli had to put his own son down…

Stars damn it.

The dragon had almost managed to convince himself that he would never have to. That if his little bird had lasted this long, he would never reach the tipping point. The numbers and strength of tainted beings had been steadily decreasing, and they were almost to the point where mortals could potentially handle things themselves –he had thought that maybe, just maybe, if Xiao could last just a little longer, they would have all the time they needed to find a solution. Of all the things they had tried, the one they had never had the chance for was seeing what happened over the course of decades, centuries, with no further exposure. All of the yaksha had been too fixated on protecting the people of Liyue to take that much time away from their duty.

And he had thought he would know when the time came. Very few of those who had fallen had done so quietly; and the power represented by the karma Xiao must have built up over the millennia would surely be noticeable when unleashed in full. He had thought it would surely be too obvious to miss, even in an attack that did not result in the yaksha’s fall. But now… if Xiao fell, would he even know in time to prevent the destruction from getting out of hand?

That was not even touching on the constant agony, or what those multiple-times-daily karmic surges Ping had reported might be doing to his child. 

Small wonder Xiao did not want anything to do with him, anymore.

Small wonder Zhongli never saw him, save for official business, and times when he saw no other option.

Xiao must hate him, for the suffering he had imposed.

Could he truly say he had done any better with the little bird than Moharus had? The harm Zhongli had caused might not have been intentional, but that made it no less real, no less damaging.

Perhaps he should—

Zhongli jumped, claws he did not remember growing leaving gouges in the stone of his kitchen table, as the sensation of someone positively pounding on the entrance to his abode rang through him. It took an embarrassingly long time to work past the shock and realize it was Cloud Retainer.

What could possibly have the crane adeptus in such a state? The dragon quelled a thread of panic –what if disaster had struck, and she was so frantic because Xiao had had another attack and was now lost and rampaging, but no, there would be other indicators surely– and forewent the hallway in favor of simply teleporting to the entrance. He was hardly going to leave Cloud Retainer to hunt for him; no telling what she might get into if she was angry or anxious enough.

It was hardly a moment’s effort to allow her in. Getting a full sentence out before she interrupted him, however, was another matter. “What could possibly—”

“ What were you thinking?! ” Clearly the operative emotion was anger, then. At least Zhongli never had to worry about interpretation, with Cloud Retainer; she never hid her emotions, that he had noticed. “One has never believed you to be stupid, Rex Lapis, not truly, but this is testing one’s belief. Of all the adepti you could have chosen—”

He was not in the mood for this. “What is this about, Cloud Retainer? I have rather a lot to do today.”

“What possessed you to facilitate the adoption of a child by a murderer? ” 

It took a long moment for Zhongli to figure out what the crane meant. It took longer to lower his growl enough to speak. “My son is not a murderer.”

“One is surprised you would try to claim such a beast as a son!” Cloud Retainer’s voice was heavy with sarcasm, and Zhongli tensed, restraining the urge to attack her physically. “Has he not ignored you all these centuries, burying himself in bloodshed like the monster he is? He’s as much a demon as those he slays, as you well know, Rex Lapis. He has slaughtered too many innocents for you to—”

“Shut your beak, crane!”

Silence reigned as the two glared at each other. Zhongli fought with memory, fought with his own body to retract the claws and fangs that had begun to grow. When he was certain he would be able to keep from lunging for the adeptus’ throat, he spoke again, keeping his voice as even and calm as he could manage. “Xiao has never, and would never, willingly harm an innocent. He–”

“Even if that were true, and one is not convinced it is, in what way does that make it right to gift him what he forever stole from one?!”

“He stole nothing from you!”

“He stole one’s family! When that creature murdered one’s mate, he stole any chance one would ever have children! You have no idea what it is to lose one’s mate–”

“I LOST GUIZHONG!!!”

Memory slammed into Zhongli, and he staggered for a moment, ignoring the shocked bird before him. Cloud Retainer did not respond anyway, simply turning and leaving his abode. Just as well. He did not think he could handle arguing further with her, at this moment.

Trembles wracked the dragon’s frame, and he struggled to hold on to the here and now . Memories of a similar argument, millennia before, warred with memories of Guizhong for dominance in his mind. Discussions of the children they might have, when the war was over –always quickly curtailed, as neither dared hope too much. The thought that she would have loved Xiao flitted across the surface of his thoughts before settling heavily in his chest.

She would have been heartbroken by Xiao’s current state, and overjoyed that the yaksha had found and taken in a child.

A strangled sob escaped his control, and he dimly realized he had curled in on himself, had fallen to his knees.

Xiao and Guizhong swirled through his mind, trailing so many memories. Trailing guilt. He had failed them both, in different ways but so badly… similarly, really. Missing Guizhong’s corruption mirrored the way he had completely missed the implications of karma. He had been forced to seal Guizhong, just as he would one day have to—

No. No. He could not think about this right now. He had to push down the memories. He had announcements to send out, the presentation to prepare for, Xiao would need his support—

It was all too much.

Zhongli fled into the bowels of his abode.

Chapter Text

Kaeya was warm.

He felt warm and light and for some reason like– like all the bad things in his life weren’t a problem anymore. Or at least not right now. He was almost tempted to fall back asleep… the Khaenri’ahn smiled and snuggled further into the warmth, reassured further as the brush of feathers told him that it was Xiao holding him.

The motion woke the adeptus, and Kaeya only had a moment to worry he’d done something wrong before he was being pulled closer, and then Xiao was… mouthing his hair? If felt a little odd, but he didn’t mind. They stayed that way for a little while, and then Xiao spoke up, “did you enjoy your trip to the Harbor?”

It took Kaeya a moment to figure out ‘Harbor’ must mean the place full of buildings and people from yesterday. The place with the nice sounds and the things you could trade coins for and the sweet crystals on sticks and– “Yes! There were some parts that were boring and the one food that burned but there were rocks that tasted sweet and stories and a girl who was nice and things that made nice sounds and fluffy things to hold–”

He paused both for breath and to scramble to find one of them, because he knew he’d had them when he fell asleep. It didn’t take long, they were buried in the bedding with them, so he triumphantly pulled out and displayed the stuffed creation that reminded him of Xiao. “See? It’s you! And there were these coins that I could trade for things and Yéye gave me a bunch of them but kept doing the trading for me before I could and–”

Kaeya hesitated. The best part of the day, he wasn’t even sure was going to stay. That it wouldn’t be taken away. “Is… is it true? Am I really your son now?”

Xiao hugged him tight, then let go partway and started running his fingers through Kaeya’s hair. “Yes.”

“You…” The Khaenri’ahn swallowed hard. He had to know. “You really want me? You don’t… hate me?”

He was whispering by the end, but Xiao seemed to hear him just the same. “Of course I don’t hate you. You’re my hatchling, of course I want you. Why wouldn’t I?”

Did he dare say? If Xiao hadn’t figured it out… but how could he not, after everything… but the adeptus seemed fine now. He was holding Kaeya close and cuddling him and–

If he lost that…

So he just shook his head and cuddled into Xiao’s chest, hoping he wasn’t pushed for more answers. He didn’t want to go back to being alone, or back to everyone knowing he couldn’t do anything right. He wanted things to stay like this.

Xiao let him stay quiet, simply holding him and continuing to run fingers through his hair and along his scalp, and gradually Kaeya let it soothe him, relaxed back into the warmth. After a bit, the adeptus gently kissed the top of his head and scooched back to look him in the eyes. “You’re my son, and no one can take that from us. And to make sure everyone knows it, I will be formally presenting you to all the adepti this afternoon, so they all know who you are and that you are mine. And so that you know who you can go to for help, if I’m not there.”

The winged man paused, and Kaeya was grateful for it, as he tried to sort out what he’d said. Some of those words he wasn’t sure of, but from context… then Xiao hugged him close again. “But even if I’m not there, you can call me at any time, and I’ll hear you, alright? If I can I’ll come. But if I can’t or you don’t want me for some reason, the people I introduce you to during the presentation are safe.”

“What is a… presentation?” Kaeya chewed on his lip a little, unsure whether it had been safe to ask. But if he never asked anything he’d get so lost…

“We’ll stand up in front of everyone in formal clothes, and I’ll introduce you,” Xiao explained, “and then we’ll go through and you’ll meet them more individually. You don’t need to worry, everyone there will be flock. Ah– will be safe. No one will hurt you.”

He didn’t like that his worry had been so obvious, but it was nice to know what to expect. And it didn’t sound so bad, really– other than so many people there and probably looking at him– but as long as Xiao was there, it’d be fine. And if he was showing Kaeya to everyone, he would be there, right?

Suddenly Kaeya realized Xiao was shaking as he held him close. Was there something he wasn’t saying about this ‘presentation’? Or… Kaeya’s Curse. He’d been hurt by Kaeya’s Curse, the day before. Even if he looked normal now, what if… he hugged the adeptus as tightly as he could, but the shaking didn’t stop.

It was his fault. It had to be.

How bad was it?

He didn’t want to know. But he had to know.

What if it was something else? What if it was something about the presentation Xiao wasn’t saying, some hidden danger? He’d said Kaeya would be safe, but what about him? Would he be in trouble for adopting Kaeya? That pretty lady with the paperwork had seemed very surprised by it…

He had to know. Even so, Kaeya could hardly get the words out as he whispered, “what’s wrong?”

Xiao twitched, and Kaeya buried his face in the adeptus’ chest, hoping he wouldn’t leave. Instead, he found himself pulled up as Xiao sat up and shifted them both, and he found himself surrounded in feathers and warmth. “Don’t worry about it, hatchling. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing unusual, anyway.”

Kaeya didn’t believe him, but understood the underlying order. It wasn’t something he was supposed to ask about. So he’d just watch, and be alert in case Xiao needed help.

Probably, if the people at this presentation were people he could go to for help, they could be gone to to get help for his new father, too.

…he didn’t like using that word for Xiao. Xiao was nothing like Father. At least so far. But he didn’t know what other word to use for their relationship, so for now…

✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧

Kaeya looked dubiously at the pile of clothing laid out in sections on the bed. In some ways it looked like what he’d been given the day before, but it had more pieces, and… he didn’t have the slightest idea how to put it on. Or what to do with the two sticks laid on top of one of the laid-out pieces. Weren’t those supposed to be for eating? The archons had eaten with similar sticks the night before…

When he looked up at Xiao, the adeptus seemed as dubious about the neatly laid out fabric as Kaeya was, for all he’d dug it out himself. He was starting to wonder what they were going to do if he didn’t know how to put them on either, when the man sighed and picked up the smallest of the robe-things before turning to the Khaenri’ahn.

“Put this on and come back, hatchling,” he said softly. “I’ll help you with the rest.”

What followed was at least an hour of confusion as Xiao fiddled with Kaeya’s clothing and hair and never seemed to be satisfied. He also never touched the darker pieces on the bed, and Kaeya kept looking at them, wondering how they fit into this… jumble that kept being put on him and taken off again.

Finally, he couldn’t help but ask, “How do those fit in… on… with… all… this?”

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

“It… doesn’t.” Xiao winced. It was no wonder his hatchling was confused, with the horrible botch he’d been making of all this. “That’s what I’ll be wearing. After I figure out how to get yours to look right.”

The yaksha couldn’t help remembering when he’d first worn that outfit, every time he looked towards the bed. If he was honest with himself, that was probably why he hadn’t put it on yet, for all his excuses about not messing it up while he got Kaeya ready. He could remember all the hours Menogias had spent measuring every inch of him to make it, holding fabrics against him, asking Nan if the colors were right— 

“What’s–” Kaeya cut himself off, and looked down, and Xiao closed his eyes for a moment. It was obvious what the little one wanted to ask, given that worried tone, and… well, Menogias would have been his uncle. His hatchling deserved to know about his family. He set the overly-complicated over-robe his lord had sent for Kaeya aside, and knelt down, arms and wings open. 

“Come here, hatchling. I’d like to tell you the story of the outfit I’m going to wear.” Not that storytelling was really his forte… that had been the skill of another brother. Once Kaeya slipped into his arms, Xiao folded his wings around them both and began.

“A very long time ago, I was presented myself. Not as someone’s adopted son, but as a general among the yaksha. One of my brothers had a passion for making clothing, and insisted on making my outfit for it.” The adeptus knelt there for a moment, trying to think how to continue.

“He spent a lot of time and effort on it, both to make it look good and so that I’d be comfortable wearing it. Not that I ever was, really, but at least I could move properly… He got the help of our sister to check the colors, because he couldn’t see them.” 

Memories passed behind his eyes, and Xiao didn’t realize he’d trailed off until his hatchling spoke up to ask, “Why couldn’t he see them?”

“Menogias was colorblind. He could only see the color of the elements, with his elemental sight.” Xiao waited to see if Kaeya would ask anything else, but while his hatchling looked a little confused, he didn't open his mouth. “He also reinforced the fabric with enchantments, though not so much as what I usually wear, which is why I still have it to wear for your presentation, even though he’s long gone.”

Long gone, just like all the others. He wished they could have been here to see this. Lian, Indarias, Menogias, Bonanus… Bosacius. They would have been so happy. They would have loved Kaeya. 

…and if he started crying it would worry his hatchling, who didn’t know that it would be at least half because he was always a mess after a karmic attack. Xiao took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Not pushing the memories, back, exactly– if they couldn’t truly be here, at least his brothers and sisters should be represented in memory– but regaining some measure of self-control.

…he could tell Kaeya about Lian, who had painted the designs on the sleeves of that outfit, another time. For now– he reached over to the bed, and once again picked up the hairsticks that he had chosen to represent his sisters, to try to get them to cooperate with his hatchling’s hair.

They had been a coincidence. A gift of gratitude from a merchant hoping they’d start a new trend. A phoenix, and a sea serpent, each decorating the head of one of the pair.

One more try.

Just for time to get his face and tone under control.

Then he’d get Ping’s help with this confounded outfit Morax had chosen for his son.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Baizhu couldn’t help but feel awkward and uncomfortable. It wasn’t the fault of his formal attire– for all the clothing he’d been sent was ridiculously expensive and complex, once it was on it didn’t interfere with his movement in the slightest, and was actually more comfortable than his everyday clothing– he simply felt out of place.

What was a healer of no note doing in a sea of adepti?

“Sssstop being sssso tensssse. You were invited. You’re fffffine.”

The healer ignored Changsheng’s annoyed commentary. He knew, logically, that she was right, but that didn’t stop him from feeling like he should be… he didn’t know. Carrying around trays of food for them, or something? He wasn’t even from a notable family. Even when he’d been in contact with them.

The familiar sensation of a tail smacking the back of his head was equally ignored. She was an adeptus. Of course she thought this was normal. She also thought a small child could go without a stable environment for years just so he could save up for a better initial storefront, so clearly she had no sense of judgment at all.

On the other hand, no one seemed to be looking at the three of them oddly, so maybe she did have a point. Baizhu took a deep breath and gave Qiqi’s hand a squeeze, then moved to join the crowd of illuminated beasts– for all some were in human form– standing before a small platform. Rex Lapis stood on the platform, waiting, and caught the healer’s gaze with a small nod in his direction. At least now he knew for sure the note and garments had come from the archon…

Who he still couldn’t believe had been in his shop. And that he had accused of horrific things. Clearly, Baizhu had lost all sense of self-preservation in the face of his own prognosis.

There was some chatter among the adepti, what sounded like the sort of greetings you’d see between old friends who hadn’t seen each other in awhile, but they all quieted down and turned their attention forward as Rex Lapis took two steps towards the front of the platform.

It was almost eerie, the silence. For all they were outside in an area that could be mistaken for wilderness, it was every bit as still in that moment as a stage in a theater hall. Then it was broken as Rex Lapis began.

“Welcome all, and thank you for coming. As is tradition, I have invited all of you here to welcome a new addition to our people. The Conqueror of Demons, Adeptus Xiao, the last yaksha, has chosen to adopt a child.” The god stepped back, and a short man who Baizhu hadn’t noticed before stepped forward to take his place on the platform.

This was the Conqueror of Demons? He must be, the healer recognized Kaeya as the child now being set down to stand beside the adeptus, but… the dark-haired young man looked exhausted, and younger than Baizhu himself. For all that last mattered, with adepti. 

More than just exhausted, he amended to himself. Even from this far he could see a faint tremor in the yaksha’s limbs, and he was far paler than was likely to be usual– it was too far to see if Adeptus Xiao was sweating, but–

Baizhu’s thoughts were interrupted by Changsheng hissing softly in his ear. “Don’t even think about it. You are not qualified to diagnosssse and treat adepti. He isss ssssure to have a healer already sssseeing to hissss well-being. Sssso sssstop conssssidering it.”

If there was already a healer tending to him, it didn’t seem like they were doing a good job of it.

“This is Kaeya. He is my son. Mine.” Baizhu was yanked out of his thoughts as the yaksha spoke, and couldn’t help but blink at the… very different tone and choice of words. Wasn’t this supposed to be some sort of ceremony? But that did seem to be all of it, because Rex Lapis had practically snatched Kaeya to carry, and Adeptus Xiao was now glaring at him as they both stepped off the platform and into the crowd.

“He looks sad,” Qiqi piped up softly, and Baizhu blinked down at his young charge. It was rare she spoke up unprompted. “Can I bring him his favorite flower later, Bai Xiānshēng?”

His favorite flower? She remembered someone’s favorite flower? Who– Baizhu followed Qiqi’s gaze and realized she was staring at Adeptus Xiao. “If we can find him, of course… do you remember Adeptus Xiao, Qiqi?”

“Hmm, not really. I just feel like he’s nice. He’ll like qingxin.” Baizhu and Changsheng both stared at the little girl as she pulled out that notebook he’d given her, carefully noting down her plans.

How had she remembered even that much? He knew she hadn’t met him since being freed from that amber, so if she knew him at all, it must have been from before she was sealed in it, all those centuries ago. But she’d never shown any sign of remembering anything from then, not people, or events, or anything. So how had Adeptus Xiao, of all people, left such an impression?

Unfortunately, he was unlikely to ever know. Given how… possessive… the yaksha had been over Kaeya a moment ago, odds were that his encounter with Qiqi had been emotional one way or another, and Baizhu was hardly someone he would choose to confide in.

Everyone around them seemed to have settled into conversing, with small groups moving to intercept Adeptus Xiao or Rex Lapis where he was meandering through the crowd with Kaeya. There was no one around that he knew, though– well, technically he knew Rex Lapis and Kaeya. Sort of. But they were getting swarmed with adepti, and he hardly wanted to make a bother of himself trailing the archon like a lost puppy. Maybe… “Was there anyone you wanted to talk to while we’re here, Changsheng?”

A familiar, amused voice spoke up behind him. “Surely you weren’t intending to leave already?”

Chapter Text

It was a relief to see the familiar walls of Xiao’s room at the inn. He took a shaky breath, trying to suppress the shakes that kept trying to run through his body. There was no reason to worry Kaeya. None. He could handle this.

At least it seemed like his chick had gotten used to teleporting– he hadn’t tightened his grip at all, this time.

For a long time, Xiao just stood there, holding Kaeya close and trying to keep control. He’d held it together all through the presentation and all the required socializing afterwards, why was it so much harder now? It shouldn’t be, now that the pressure was– less, but it was. The tremors wracking his frame kept trying to get more violent, and it was getting harder and harder to keep the tears he could feel building from escaping his eyes. Cloud Retainer was right, he was no fit parent, he— 

Not now. Right now, Kaeya had to be exhausted, he needed to help him get ready for bed, should get him some food probably… but the thought of facing more people, even the inn staff, twisted Xiao’s stomach.

One step at a time. The yaksha fought with himself, then gently set his chick down. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it– no, no he couldn’t send Kaeya to change like this. He undoubtedly at least needed help undoing the fancy knot over the sash and overrobe. He knelt down, and took care of that, hoping his little one didn’t notice how many tries it took with his shaking hands. “Alright, hatchling, there you go. I… I’ll get you your nightgown, and then you can change while I get you some food, alright?”

Kaeya looked up at him, and Xiao couldn’t help but think he looked like he wanted to ask a question– but instead of saying anything, his chick just bit his lip and looked down, nodding.

What had Xiao done wrong this time? What kind of parent was he, if he couldn’t even tell why his own chick was scared to speak up…

Not now not now not now.  

Nightgown. He knew he’d seen one in the bag of things Rex Lapis had provided. He moved swiftly through the ‘mural’ into his abode, and paused for a moment, leaning with a hand on the wall as he choked back a sob. Why was he falling apart like this? He couldn’t just blame it on his karma. He’d managed just fine that morning. He should be fine now. He should— 

He should get out the nightgown, like he told his son he would.

Xiao took a deep breath, then let it out before digging into the bag that still sat there in the hallway near the passthrough. He knew he’d seen it in there earlier, overly embroidered but still… there. The adeptus pulled out the nightgown, eyeing the result of his lord’s extravagance with a sigh. Dark blue silk that perfectly matched Kaeya’s hair would suit him, but what did that matter for a nightgown? And he’d already seen how his chick tended to react to the idea of ‘too many resources’ being used for him.

There wasn’t another option, though. The borrowed shirt Kaeya had been wearing before hadn’t been in the bag, and really, he couldn’t blame Morax for reclaiming it, when Xiao’d taken it without asking. With another sigh, the yaksha left his abode.

His hatchling hastily stood from where he had been crouched on the floor, and Xiao winced. He must have sounded angry before, or failed to reassure Kaeya enough, or…

He couldn’t do this.

But he had to.

“Here’s your nightgown,” Xiao said, internally cursing at the way his voice shook as he handed the garment over. “I’ll be back with food as soon as I can, and once you’ve eaten you can sleep, alright?” The yaksha paused before adding hastily, “I know you must be exhausted.”

Kaeya simply nodded again, and Xiao closed his eyes against the pain. He’d driven his son away already, somehow, he must have. His chick hadn’t been scared of him anymore, he hadn’t, but now he was, so Xiao must have done something– his thoughts were interrupted by an impact, and then small arms tight around his waist. The yaksha opened his eyes just as Kaeya let go and ran for the bathroom, but… he held on to the hope that the hug meant he hadn’t lost him completely.

A swirl of darkened anemo, and Xiao was down in the kitchen. Luckily, it seemed the cook wasn’t around– the adeptus looked about quickly, trying to spot some food that would be acceptable to a young mortal, and easy to eat.

Fruit was always a safe option, right? The yaksha grabbed a couple sunsettias. That probably wasn’t enough… looking around, the bird spotted a basket of bread and snagged a roll. That would do.

His return teleport seemed to have good timing; the elemental fog cleared in time to see Kaeya tiptoeing out of the bathroom. Xiao offered the food in exchange for the formal wear in his chick’s arms; then ensconced him on the bed to eat while he went to put them away. Or, well, at least shove them in the abode hallway…

And then Xiao had nothing to do but wait, watch his son eat, and… think.

And he really, really didn’t want time to think. Times like this, he would normally go out on a patrol to clear his head, but he couldn’t, not with Kaeya needing him here… Kaeya, who was barely touching the food, just watching him and nibbling a little at one of the sunsettias. “It’s alright, hatchling. Go ahead. That’s all for you.”

The child hesitated, then lowered the fruit rather than take a larger bite, face twisted with what looked like worry. Quietly, he asked, “what about you?”

“I don’t need to eat as much as a mortal,” Xiao answered, hoping Kaeya wouldn’t ask more. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to get even almond tofu down right now, much less what he had brought for his hatchling. After a moment’s thought, he added, “There’s no need for worry, hatchling. It is my duty as your parent to provide for you, and it’s a duty I am glad to take on. If there’s anything else you would like to eat, or need for any reason, just ask.”

He didn’t like how long Kaeya hesitated before putting the sunsettia back to his mouth. Was the hatchling afraid he would be in trouble? Had Xiao said something wrong, or with the wrong tone? He’d tried to be reassuring… was it his body language? He knew when he was younger, all it would take was someone moving too fast, or standing too tense, and he’d have expected punishment. He should know better. He should be better at this. He knew the perspective of a child who had been hurt and abused better than most, he should know the signs, how to act, how to reassure or comfort, but instead he seemed to keep making things worse and— 

Cloud Retainer’s words spun in his head, from when she’d taken him aside at the presentation. How he should give up Kaeya now, before he ruined him, killed him or turned him to madness and darkness. She’d reminded him, rightfully, of his bloodstained-past, and of the fact he would not be able to control himself when he finally lost to his karma. That he had no successful experience in raising a child. Of what he had done to the last child he had tried to help…

A child who had, somehow, been there. Unless he was hallucinating even when he was not experiencing a karmic attack or surge, now. Had been standing next to a green-haired man, apparently perfectly calm and safe. Proof that she had been possible to help. That it was just him that had been the problem.

Would she have lost her mind in such a rage, after the ritual, if it had been someone else there with her? He already knew she wouldn’t have died if not for him. 

The thought of of the same thing happening to his Kaeya twisted Xiao’s gut further, and he curled in on himself.

What did he know about parenting? He didn’t even remember his own parents. The closest he had was Morax, who was his lord, and while once he might have thought– that hope had proven false, long ago. Xiao had no example to emulate. His own single previous attempt had ended in worse than failure. He was crippled, not even a bird, how could he raise a chick when he wasn’t even a full person, when he didn’t know what he was doing, when he couldn’t even take care of himself, couldn’t keep his siblings or the yaksha under his command alive much less healthy and happy– 

Xiao hardly noticed the low whine escaping his throat.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. He’d wind up killing Kaeya, or maiming him, or even if he just did things wrong enough that his hatchling grew up still scared, still sure he was worthless, still– 

But he had to, because who else was there? Kaeya was legally his now, and even if he weren’t, he’d been terrified when he was left with Morax. If even Morax couldn’t set him at ease then– 

A small hand touched his trembling arm, and before he’d consciously recognized that it belonged to his hatchling, Xiao found himself curled around Kaeya, wings wrapped around them both. His left wing was at a painful angle and beneath them both, but he didn’t care. He had Kaeya. He had his chick and part of him insisted that meant his chick was safe even though he knew, he knew it meant the opposite… 

Xiao couldn’t hold back his emotions anymore. The dam broke, and sobs tore out of his chest as he held his son close. He couldn’t even muster words to explain, to let Kaeya know that he didn’t need to be afraid. More failure. He knew he was shaking violently and couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. What was the point? He’d tried to be strong for Kaeya. He’d proven too damned weak to even manage that.

His hatchling didn’t protest. Didn’t even say anything, just curled closer against Xiao’s chest. And… that hurt more, somehow. That despite it all Kaeya still saw him as a source of safety. Just how bad had things been for him before, that monster like him was better? After he’d abandoned him with one who was a stranger, from Kaeya’s perspective. Injured him during a karmic attack. Shoved him in front of a whole crowd of strangers and didn’t even stay with him as he was brought among them– 

It took a long time for the sobs to fade, the shaking to ease. It didn’t help, really. Xiao lay on the bed, still limply holding his doomed hatchling, still crying, just silently now.

Pathetic.

There was a tapping at the wall, a muffled voice. Ping. Of course, she would want to check on them… he should probably let her in. Let her check on his hatchling, at least. But it was hard to think, harder to move, and in the end, Xiao just stayed where he was.

Kaeya shifted in his arms, and then slipped away. Xiao didn’t try to stop him, despite the gaping hole inside left by the knowledge his chick was right to leave. Resignation weighted his limbs, as the knowledge he was losing his son sank in. As the despair of the rejection ate away at his heart. His eyes tracked his hatchling’s movement for a bit, then caught on the barely-touched remains of his food.

Xiao had been so disruptive, so selfish that he had allowed his own well-deserved pain to interfere with Kaeya’s basic needs. Had been so weak that his sweet, kind hatchling had felt he had to abandon his meal to comfort him— 

Guilt piled on the resignation and despair, changed the flavor, made it cut that much deeper. 

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Kaeya could tell Xiao was hurting, but he didn’t know why. He couldn’t see any injuries, so he was pretty sure it wasn’t physical pain. The way the adeptus held him and sobbed reminded him a little of the day before, when Kaeya’s people’s Curse had struck at him, had changed and hurt him– but Xiao wasn’t screaming, or changing, and there was no swirling darkness, either.

Part of Kaeya wondered if this was because he wasn’t really wanted, that Xiao was sobbing because he was stuck with him now. But the adeptus had been so clear that morning that he wanted him… and he really, really didn’t want to think his new parent had lied to him…

It was almost more like he was scared. The way Xiao shook reminded Kaeya of how he’d been, heading to certain kinds of training. But what could scare him? Xiao was so brave and strong and fierce when he fought, and the Khaenri’ahn couldn’t imagine what could scare him. He wanted to ask, but after that morning he was pretty sure ‘what’s wrong’ was a forbidden question… 

There was a tapping sound from the other side of the wall, and then Kaeya heard Aunt Ping’s voice, asking Xiao to let her in, asking if he was alright. He looked up at his new parent, expecting a response, but– 

But Xiao didn’t even seem to react.

Kaeya swallowed, a thrill of fear racing down his spine. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what, but something was, it had to be, his parent wouldn’t normally just– just lie there, would he?

Xiao had said Kaeya could go to those he met at the Presentation for help.

Aunt Ping had been there.

She could help.

Kaeya slowly slipped out of his parent’s arms and wings, padding softly to the door that only opened from the inside he’d been shown before, and pulling it open. He couldn’t quite make himself look up or say anything, so the Khaenri’ahn just left the door open for Aunt Ping and headed back towards his parent.

He couldn’t keep calling Xiao that. Even in his head it felt weird, how would Xiao react being called ’parent’ to his face? But he couldn’t use ‘Father,’ it didn’t fit, and– wait. Earlier, Aunt Ping had said— adepti children chose which term to use for their parents. That he didn’t have to use Father, though that wasn’t how she’d phrased it.

As Kaeya crawled back into Xiao’s arms, he worried about how limp the adeptus was, about the tears on his face. But he also thought about what Xiao felt like to him. And as he settled back against his chest, he murmured, “It’s okay, Mama. I’m back.”

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

It wasn’t until everyone had begun to clear out that Ping realized Xiao had already left with his son at some point. She really shouldn’t have been surprised; the yaksha never had liked social engagements; but she wished he had stuck around long enough to say goodbye, first. She had brought along the first batch of his new medication to give him once there were fewer eyes.

It seemed she had a long trek ahead of her, to get all the way to the Inn– Ping didn’t have the power to casually teleport long distances, the way so many other adepti did. The healer sighed, peering around once more, just in case she was wrong.

No sign of the yaksha or his child.

Damn it.

“Looking for Adeptus Xiao?” Ping turned to see an older gentleman– or someone taking the appearance of one. Many of the adepti who spent a lot of time around mortals covered their own unchanging appearance with an illusion on a habitual basis.

“Yes, but it seems he’s already left. I’ll have to walk on up to the Inn, tomorrow, it seems,” she sighed.

The adeptus in front of her smiled. “I have a gift to drop off, as it happens. Would you like to come with me, and save a bit of time?”

“Oh, that would be a relief. Thank you, I would have had to wait to set off until tomorrow, probably.” With the other adeptus’ illusion in place, she couldn’t be sure which adeptus they were– but it didn’t matter, really. All the adepti still around these days had contracts with Zhongli. He offered his arm, and with a chuckle, she took it.

A moment surrounded in crackling purple lightning, and they were outside Xiao’s room. It was clear the other adeptus hadn’t been here before, as he hesitated, looking around for where to put his parcel. “I’ll give that to him, if you’d like. I don’t know that he’s up for more in the way of social banter, today.”

“Perfect. I had simply been intending to leave it for him, in any case,” the adeptus said as he passed her the bundle, “and I know it will be safe in your hands, Ping.”

Wait, he knew her? Ping opened her mouth, but before she could ask, he was gone in another crackle of electro.

Who… no, no, her heart hurt but it couldn’t be him. She’d never mistake his voice, and this adeptus’ was higher, lighter. But then who was it? Electro wasn’t exactly common in Liyue since the war, and most of the adepti with it had been yaksha…

That was a concern for later. For now, Ping had a patient to check on. He’d held it together through the Presentation, but it had been clear it had been hard on the bird… the sooner she got him his new pills, the better.

It took a moment to remember which of the walls concealed the door. Locating the right one, Ping tapped on it, calling loud enough to be heard through the wood. “Xiao, it’s Ping. I know you’re tired, I just need to drop off your new medication and a gift someone brought. Could you let me in?”

There was no response, so she tried again. “Xiao? Are you alright?”

The healer was just starting to wonder if the yaksha had gone somewhere else with Kaeya, rather than going straight home, when the hidden door slid open to reveal young Kaeya. The child didn’t even look up, just turned around and slipped back into bed with Xiao. She heard him murmuring, “It’s okay, Mama. I’m back.” Apparently he’d decided Xiao was his mother, just as she’d thought he might.

Xiao didn’t so much as twitch when his son curled back up with him, and there were clear tear tracks on his face. Barely-touched fruit and a roll sat on the corner of the small bed, and Ping was struck by how small and bare the room was. She had forgotten. Just a small bed and a nightstand, a door to the little bathroom, and the mural leading to Xiao’s abode– of the mountain Zhongli’s abode sat on, at sunrise. Not even a rug or a window.

And the yaksha was still in his formal wear. He hated wearing that.

Ping heaved a sigh. It was clear the after-effects of his karmic attack the day before were in full swing, despite her making sure he had pills and knew to take them. In theory. “You didn’t take your pills this morning, did you.”

He just closed his eyes, and she sighed, sitting next to him. “Xiao, you have a son now. It’s not just a matter of whether you can endure. You need to be able to be here for him.”

The bird just turned his face into the bedding, and Ping rubbed at her forehead. “I brought the new formulation for you, and it should work better. Will you take the first dose willingly, or do I need to shove it down your throat?”

Kaeya jolted at that, and she cursed herself quietly. She might be tired, but that was no excuse for scaring children. “I don’t mean that literally, sweetheart. Your mother just has a tendency to resist taking his medication.”

The child turned a worried look her way, chewing on his lip for a moment before asking, “Medication?”

She considered for a moment before answering, “Your mother is very sick, Kaeya, and has been for a long time.”

That got a reaction out of Xiao, as he sat up, holding Kaeya close. “Ping–”

“Xiao, he’s your son. Do you really think he won’t notice something’s wrong? I won’t go into details, don’t worry.” And she wouldn’t. She’d tell Kaeya enough to know what to expect, and what to do, so he wouldn’t feel so helpless. Anything more, she’d leave up to his mother to decide. “Do you trust me?”

The yaksha hesitated, then nodded. Ping understood, it was hard for him to let anyone in… but he had let Kaeya in, by taking him into his home and life. Leaving the child to wonder and worry would be cruel.

The question was, how best to explain without alarming him. There was no need for Kaeya to know Xiao was terminal; the child was mortal, and if the yaksha had lasted this long, there was every chance he’d still outlive his son. She hoped. 

“Your mother’s illness causes him a great deal of pain, sometimes, and that’s why he needs medication,” Ping began. “We can’t make it go away entirely, but we can help.”

“If it helps with the pain, why doesn’t he want it?” She winced at the innocent question, unsure how to answer. Xiao certainly didn’t seem likely to say anything.

“Sometimes… sometimes people think that, in order to be strong, they have to avoid all help. It’s not true, but that’s hard to see when you’re hurting and trying to work past it.” That wasn’t remotely the only reason the yaksha was avoiding his pills, she knew, but it was the safest part to tell a child, especially a child whose past seemed to be the sort that would have him trying to keep quiet about pain, too.

“Oh,” Kaeya whispered.

Ping waited a moment, but it didn’t seem like the child had another question at the moment, so she forged on. There was no reason to tell him about how the karmic attacks put Xiao through so much agony that he was at risk of losing his mind once a month, or that the surges he had multiple times a day could be almost as bad, if shorter. But he should know how to recognize them, and what to expect after, and how that would affect the yaksha’s dosage schedule– because she knew all too well that without someone reminding him, Xiao would forget, whether on purpose or not. Reminding him would give the little Khaenri’ahn something to do, so that he didn’t feel quite so helpless in the face of his mother’s pain, hopefully. 

“Xiao needs to take two of these pills once a week. It would be helpful if you remind him, Kaeya, but don’t try to hand them to him,” and Ping had to fend off a shudder at the thought of what they would do to a mortal, “because they are extremely toxic for you. Just touching the pills barehanded is dangerous for a mortal. If you come in contact with one accidentally, immediately wash your hands up to the elbows and let your mama know, alright?”

Ping waited for the sweet child’s nod before continuing, wanting to make sure he caught that part. If he got hurt handling Xiao’s medication, the bird adeptus would never forgive himself. “A few times a day, he’ll have a surge in symptoms for a few minutes. Now, if he took extra medication for all these surges, your mother would probably overdose. But if it looks like it was a particularly bad one– takes more than a couple minutes, or he seems to be having trouble walking for a bit after, or anything like that– you can remind your mother to take one of his pills. He’s supposed to carry some with him at all times.”

Hopefully, focusing on the external signs like that would keep young Kaeya from realizing just how much pain Xiao had, even during those. A karmic surge wasn’t as bad as a karmic attack, but they were still agonizing, from all she had witnessed.

“Your mother also has periods when the pain is even worse– like yesterday– and we call those karmic attacks. Hopefully those won’t be quite so bad or frequent once he’s taking his pills properly, but if you see one start, you should go get or send for me or your Yèye for help, alright?”

The poor child looked worried, and after a moment asked, “But what if I can’t?”

“If you can’t go for help, that’s not your fault. Just send for one of us when you can, and see if you can get him to take his medication after, alright? You will likely be staying with someone else at such times, but if you’re not–” Ping caught Xiao’s eyes, ensuring he got the reminder. “–your mother is supposed to take four pills as soon as possible after an attack, and an additional two each on the following two mornings.”

She had ensured he had the four last night, but they had been of the old formulation, and chances were there had been hardly any left in his system to begin with. He’d needed the two he seemed to have skipped that morning. Speaking of… “And if he isn’t taking his medication, you should tell me, or your Yèye, or have the Inn staff send word to me.”

Worry and determination chased each other across the small face, flavored with a little confusion. Ping waited for the inevitable question; it didn’t take long. “Inn staff?”

“We can take you down to meet them as soon as your mother takes his pills. Right, Xiao?” The yaksha threw her a cornered look, but finally nodded and accepted the medicine cannister from her. She waited until he’d retrieved two of the small green pills and taken them before standing.

Xiao seemed a little shaky when he stood, but that was expected. With any luck, after this he would go to bed and sleep.

On the way down to the front desk, they discussed lighter topics. Or tried to. What games did Kaeya like to play? He didn’t know. Stories he enjoyed? Ones about snow, apparently, she gathered from the description. Asking about food got an enthusiastic description of rock candy, to Xiao’s horror and her amusement.

By the time they reached the main floor of Wangshu Inn, the mood had lifted, and it was with a small smile that she saw Xiao bring Kaeya up to the current inn boss. “Kaeya, this is Li Hyung…”

Chapter Text

Time seemed strange, and Kaeya wasn’t sure if that was a trait of the surface world or just because things were so… different, and yet the same. He was getting lessons again, and in some ways in familiar topics, but Mama was nothing like Father or his old tutors had been. He was so much more patient with Kaeya’s stupidity and clumsiness… never even commented when he was too slow to learn something.

But Kaeya knew.

Xiao didn’t have to say it. Kaeya could see it in his mama’s face, when he mispronounced a word or used it wrong. When it was a word or phrase in the surface tongue he should know, but didn’t, somehow, or it sounded different here or had an entirely different sound to it or– 

And some of the writing didn’t look like the rest and he couldn’t hold it all in his head no matter how much he tried— 

How long had he been here? How long since Xiao had adopted him, become officially his mother? Days, weeks, months? Did it matter? All that mattered was that Kaeya still didn’t understand half of what was said around him. He still hadn’t mastered reading or writing. And given how Mama kept apologizing for not teaching well, he should have by now.

It wasn’t Mama’s fault. It was his. Kaeya had always been stupid.

And a selfish coward too, if he couldn’t even bear to tell Mama, even to ease the guilt the yaksha clearly felt about it.

Looking for a distraction, Kaeya spotted an oddly colored loach chewing on some worn purple fabric. Mama had told him about those, but he didn’t think they were usually the color of the pale, stringy moss he’d sometimes eaten in the Abyss. Was it that color because it ate dyed fabric?

Not that it mattered.

The boy sighed, and turned back towards the rooms he now called home.

Back to lessons.

•✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ •

What was he doing wrong?

There had to be something. Xiao knew his chick was intelligent. He’d seen the consideration in those eyes, watched him puzzle things out. So it had to be the yaksha’s teaching that was hampering little Kaeya’s learning. He knew language should be learned quicker than this– stars, he had learned languages faster as an adult, guarding crucial caravans after the war.

It wasn’t the first time he’d taught. He hadn’t taught languages before, but any officer spent time training their soldiers in combat, and he’d done just fine with that. Maybe he was just too stupid to teach anything intellectual.

Too small to be an imposing warrior, too stupid to be anything else…

Cloud Retainer was right. Xiao was not competent enough to be a parent to any child, much less one as special and deserving as Kaeya.

•✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ •

It took a couple days for Venti to find a free minute to check on how Xiao and Kaeya were doing. After centuries asleep, it took time to get re-established in Mond– especially as he was hardly the sort of archon to announce his presence by descending from the clouds, unlike a certain dragon.

As expected, all his old friends were gone. Really, most of them had been before his… nap, but he hadn’t even been able to find Dvalin. The wind spirit couldn’t help worrying that the anemo dragon hadn’t forgiven him for his absence when Mond needed him, for being gone when Durin attacked, even if he had gotten back in order to defeat the poor thing…

So he was very much looking forward to seeing those two happy together. No child should be as scared and unhappy as Kaeya, and Xiao had been grieving and in pain for far too long. Venti took great pride in the small part he’d played sticking them together.

Xiao wasn’t looking happy when he got to the inn, though. One look at that desperate, self-loathing expression and the bard skipped past him to check on Kaeya. Surely the child wasn’t—

Kaeya was fine. Well, sort of. He was alive, and healthier already than he had been before, but the boy looked on the point of tears. Venti materialized long enough to give the child’s shoulders a squeeze, then slipped back into the wind to have a chat with a bird.

 “What’s wrong, Xiao?” Venti promptly had to dodge back as the yaksha swept his spear through where he’d initially landed. “Hey!”

Xiao blinked at him, then looked away. “Sorry.”

The bird’s voice sounded choked with tears, though there were none on his face– Venti’s concerns doubled. Even in agony, Xiao usually hid his emotions so deep they didn't touch his voice. “Xiao, it’s okay, you didn’t hurt me… what’s wrong? Did something happen with Kaeya?”

Xiao flinched. “Not… exactly.” The bird hunched into himself, and after a moment, leapt onto the railing to sit facing the swamps. “I can’t teach. Kaeya needs me to teach him, and I…”

He took a shuddering breath, and Venti pulled himself onto the rail to lean on the yaksha’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do everything by yourself, you know.”

“He’s mine. My chick. I’m supposed to be able to– but I can’t even teach him how to speak what will be his own language. Writing I was always bad at, but I should at least be able to teach him to speak Liyuen and common, and if I can’t even do that, how can I teach him anything else—”

The poor thing was clearly spiraling, and given his karma… Venti reached one hand in front of Xiao’s face and snapped his fingers twice. “Hey. Stop that. Most kids have additional teachers besides their parents, and it’s been what, two days? Of course he hasn’t learned much in that time. I don’t know about adepti, but it takes mortal kids months and months to learn things. Years, even. So calm down, okay?”

A shudder ran through Xiao, and Venti resisted the urge to hug him. He knew the yaksha often struggled with touch, and it might just tip him over into a breakdown right now.

He chewed on his lip, thinking. How could he help… “How about I help? Sure, I’m not great with everything, but I am a bard. History is kinda my thing, and I bet I can help with some of the basics of the legal structure too. Mond’s is different, sure, but some things are the same everywhere.”

When Xiao just nodded and leaned his head on Venti’s shoulder, the archon couldn’t help worrying more. 

The yaksha never accepted help without a fight. What else was wrong, that he was like this?

•✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ •

Venti’s words didn’t help much over the next couple days. Logically, he knew Venti was unlikely to lie to him. He knew mortals likely didn’t pick up languages as readily as adepti. But still– every time his chick struggled to understand him, didn’t remember a word he’d managed to learn the day before, something deep inside told him it was his fault, that something was wrong, deeply wrong with Kaeya.

That Kaeya was alone and it was his fault, and his chick would never grow right because of it. 

That he wouldn’t survive, much less thrive–

Voices rose up around Xiao, and with a whimper, he teleported away to endure the karmic surge alone.

•✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ •

As Venti had expected, his own lessons with the kid moved slowly, given the language barrier. But melody and gestures could convey the sense of the story too, and the god was sure that given time, this would help the little dandelion pick up the language faster. Hopefully that would help settle Xiao’s anxiety.

The wind stirred the hair by the bard’s ear, playing with the flower in his cap before teasing his hair again. He paused his singing and cocked his head, listening for the message on of his siblings had brought–

The muttering was indistinct, fading in and out. Clearly Xiao’s voice, edged with pain in a way Venti had unfortunately come to associate with the yaksha’s karmic episodes. It took a few repeats for the meaning to sink in.

So Xiao was concerned that Kaeya didn’t have any siblings, huh? Well, he was a bird. Most birds had clutchmates. Venti filed that concern, and possible solutions, away for later— 

For now, he had an audience waiting.

•✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ •

Kaeya sucked in his breath repeatedly, trying to keep tears at bay. His mama got upset when he cried. Not angry, but it was almost worse the way he’d hold the boy close and shake, then go away for a bit and return all pale. 

He didn’t want to think what was happening to Mama when he was gone like that.

Warm wetness running down his cheeks told Kaeya he’d failed, so he tipped his head forward, hoping his hair would hide the streaks. It was stupid anyway, to cry because he was stupid. But he should have been fine with today’s lesson. He should have. It wasn’t like his tutors hadn’t taught him math back in the Abyss. But all the symbols were different and the words were different and even if he knew the answer he couldn’t tell his mama the answer and—

A sob escaped the boy a moment before warm wings enclosed him.

Why did language have to interfere with everything?

•✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ •

Eventually, Xiao got better at using his chick’s limited vocabulary and gestures to communicate things. He couldn’t teach everything that way, but tactics could be demonstrated on an illusionary map, martial skills could be shown by example, and once Kaeya had the basic numbers and mathematical symbols down, arithmetic went easily enough.

The yaksha’s son showed quite a bit of talent with a sword– as he had the day they met– but seemed less than comfortable with it, so Xiao began showing him the basics of the spear. Unfortunately, that seemed to bother the fledgling too, and he either couldn’t or wouldn’t communicate why.

He showed a distinct talent for tactics as well, and the bird found himself grinning with pride at how quickly Kaeya would grasp the appropriate placement for the members of a squad in any given situation, given a good image of the landscape, weather, and closer views of both sides of the encounter.

But all three subjects would require in-depth communication as Kaeya advanced, and an acidic pit grew in Xiao’s stomach as he considered his so-intelligent fledgling being held back because he had failed the boy when it came to language.

•✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ •

Father had always said that Kaeya was terrible with a sword. He’d also always insisted that without constant practice, what little skill he’d managed to beat into Kaeya would disappear.

It looked like Father had been right.

Mama was nice. Was kind. So if Mama, after a testing spar, had handed Kaeya a spear instead… he must’ve failed utterly. 

Language, math, whatever those songs had been, and now even the sword, where Kaeya had thought he at least had the basics down… was he doomed to fail everything? To disappoint Xiao as he had Father?

Would Mama turn cruel too, with enough disappointment?

…Kaeya couldn’t do that to Mama. Frowning in concentration, he focused on following the exercises he’d been shown perfectly. Every step, every motion, exactly as Xiao had demonstrated.

If he could get at least this right, maybe he’d still be worth keeping.

•✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ •

Writing was the worst of the lessons.

Xiao had never been the best calligrapher, and trying to teach written Liyuen in all its annoying complexity to a fledgling who didn’t yet have a handle on the spoken language… The yaksha found himself with a whole new understanding of how Menogias must’ve felt, so long ago. He watched as Kaeya, with a shaky hand, somehow mangled the symbol for ‘tea’ so badly that it most closely approximated ‘fish’.

The youngling then looked from one to the other, and looked ready to cry, clearly knowing he’d messed it up but not how. Xiao couldn’t let that stand. “That’s enough for now, fledgling. Here, we’ll set that aside and get your mid-day meal, alright? You’re doing well.”

Kaeya chewed his lip as he nodded, and the bird cursed internally and pulled the child in close, wrapping him in his wings. Clearly he hadn’t been reassuring enough. What else could he– 

As he eyed his own wings and told himself not to pluck, a thought struck Xiao. While he’d always been told how important it was to learn Liyuen first, common was far simpler to learn to write— 

And while he wasn’t good at it, the yaksha did know a little Khaenri’ahn. It might be worth trying to use it to communicate the meanings of words in Liyuen and common, rather than just using gestures and drawings…

•✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ •

The first words out of Xiao’s mouth, however badly accented, threw Kaeya into a panic. If the yaksha knew Khaenri’ahn– was he reporting back to Father?

Was he going to be returned, if he didn’t live up to standards? Or would he just be tortured to death? Or maybe he’d have his tongue cut out so he couldn’t give away anything and be handed to the authorities— 

No. No, Mama wouldn’t do that, right? He... he wouldn’t. Kaeya had to believe that or– 

Hands gently settled on his shoulders, and Kaeya realized he was shaking– and that he had no idea what had actually been said in his home tongue. How long had he been standing there, staring? So much for keeping his damned cover. so much for being anything other than a cowardly, useless, failure of a— 

“Fledgling. Kaeya. Listen to me, please. I won’t use that language anymore if you don’t want me to.” Mama’s voice seemed to fade in and out, and Kaeya realized the birdman was knelt in front of him, searching his face. “You’re safe here. Come back to me, Kaeya. I won’t hurt you.”

Come back? Kaeya hadn’t gone anywhere. He’d just panicked like an idiot and given away everything he was supposed to keep secret.

“Kaeya, can you hear me now? I almost thought you saw me, there– Fledgling, I’m so sorry, I thought that since you have the Khaenri’ahn eyes you might understand that better than common, I thought it might help—”

Mama had been trying to help? Had already– already figured out where he was from, and hadn’t cast him out, hadn’t killed him, had just used that knowledge to try to help Kaeya– 

And was now tearing himself apart with guilt over it.

Kaeya couldn’t… couldn’t let that stand.

Even if it meant betraying Father…

Kaeya took a shaky breath, and spoke, “It’s alright, Mama. You… you were right. It’s… it’s okay if you want to—”

Any further words he might have wanted to say were smothered as Xiao pulled him tight, apologizing and messing with Kaeya’s hair in rapid motions.

Somehow, it wasn’t until hours later that the full impact hit Kaeya– he’d always been told discovery meant torture and death, and instead Mama had given him reassurance and cuddling.

What other lies had he been taught?

Chapter Text

Ping shouldn’t have been surprised when young Baizhu stopped by her table a few days after the presentation. The man probably had any number of questions, and she doubted Changsheng had been forthcoming– from what she remembered, the snake adeptus was acerbic at best.

The particular question he brought to her was not what she expected, however. It was very thoughtful, though. “It’s likely he’s planning for someone else to bring Kaeya to his appointment, as with the first visit, but with everything… it’s possible it just slipped his mind.” She paused and thought for a moment. “Unless you hear otherwise, assume they’ll be coming to your shop, I think. But I’ll ask if he would like to meet you elsewhere. It’s a good suggestion, thank you.”

Baizhu politely demurred and thanked her, then bowed briefly and left the plaza. Truly such a good boy. Ping was glad to see he was achieving such success already; it boded well for his future, and any healer with the presence of mind to find out if special arrangements were necessary for a patient a full week in advance of an appointment deserved that success.

Now then. If Zhongli had failed to mention this second appointment to her, as Xiao’s usual healer, odds were high he’d neglected to tell his son as well. She’d have to remind him. Up on that mountain of his.

This was going to be a long day… At least it wouldn’t be as warm a hike this time. The weather was finally starting to cool for the autumn.

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Xiao had just finished helping Kaeya with his clothes– his fledgling had trouble figuring out Liyuen clothing still, and wanted to go outside– when he heard a polite tap at the disguised door to their home.

What– who–

Kaeya’s evident interest in the sound– rather than alarm- was a good sign at least. Xiao turned towards the door with a sigh, resigned to plans being thrown out the window yet again. It seemed that whenever he tried to do anything with his son, something always interfered– his own karma, a call for help, an impromptu visit from Barbatos of all people—

What awaited at the door was not anyone he expected– though admittedly, the anemo archon usually ignored the door entirely. “My lord? I apologize, I was not expecting you– I would have prepared… something…”

Why was Lord Morax here? He hadn’t gotten around to cleaning up, the abode itself was still a mess even if the room was mostly empty, he was an embarrassment to every yaksha who had ever served their lord–

“Please, Xiao– relax.” Lord Morax almost seemed hesitant. “I am merely here to pick up Kaeya and escort him to his appointment. I do not expect you to host me here, either before or after, for all I enjoy your presence.”

What appointment? Xiao wasn’t aware of anything that– Wait. That healer Kaeya’d been taken to. Hadn’t there been mention of a follow-up in the instructions he’d been handed?

That was now? Xiao couldn’t take his fledgling there unless he knew– “Where is the appointment?”

“In the Harbor. There is no need to concern yourself, I am perfectly willing to—”

“No. Kaeya is my fledgling. I will care for him. Where?” It was a struggle not to glower and hiss, but this was his lord, and… well, on some level Xiao knew he was only trying to help. It was well known the yaksha stayed away from the cities where possible.

But this was his son. He would not shirk his responsibilities in Kaeya’s care, no matter how uncomfortable they might make him. Surely it would be safe enough for the duration of a single appointment with a healer.

Reluctantly, the god provided directions. With a nod to acknowledge the information, the yaksha swept Kaeya up and teleported to the described shop.

The startled mortal behind the counter was vaguely familiar; after a moment, Xiao placed him as one of the attendees at Kaeya’s presentation. The snake about his shoulders was definitely not mortal, however, and Xiao had been there when Changsheng signed her contract. To his knowledge, the snake adeptus had held to her word; but given what he knew of her terms, the yaksha didn’t trust her nearly so much as he had the only other snake adeptus he’d known.

Changsheng bore watching. Her newest victim did as well, though for other reasons. If she was harming him beyond the basis of what she was permitted… well, Lord Morax would likely appreciate not needing to enforce the contract personally.

Xiao’s thoughts were interrupted as his fledgling started indicating he wanted down. Looking around to see why, the yaksha spotted a little girl– 

That wasn’t just any little girl.

He knew that girl.

He had– She– 

A slight smile lit her face, as much expression as she’d ever shown, to his knowledge. She walked towards him, digging out something from the pouch she wore at her side. A flower—

“Your favorite, right? For you.”

–qinxin.

That slight smile beneath pale purple hair, his favorite flower lifted in offering. Flames and dust in the air, the remnants of battle. A small body crushed, a foot just visible beneath a bush—

✦ •— ✧ —• ✦ ·𖥸· ✦ •— ✧ —• ✦

Zhongli was not sure how long he stood there, staring at Xiao’s door, after the yaksha left in his signature darkened swirl of anemo.

Where had he gone wrong? Because clearly he had. Xiao had not merely rejected his help, he had snatched up the child and practically fled the dragon’s presence. And the tone of voice he had used… The normally overly-respectful bird had been barely even civil, with hostility practically boiling beneath his words. He had never had his aid refused so utterly before, not by anyone, so far as he could readily recall. 

Ping was wrong. There was no chance Xiao– no, he should be more respectful, given the clearly desired distance– Adeptus Xiao would accept him as a father figure now. He had lost that, for good. How, he was not yet sure, but…

A pity he could not simply sink into the stone and cease to exist. He yet had responsibilities. And he was currently standing on wood, besides.

A gust of wind tugged at the god’s hair, and the familiar short form of a god pretending to be a bard appeared beside him. “Hey there, Morax! Why’re you staring at Xiao’s door? Knocking helps, you know.”

And with those words, the idiot went and rapped sharply at the wood. Zhongli made a halfhearted attempt at a growl, then informed him, “He is not home. He left.”

“Huh? He was there when I checked a minute ago… I was going to surprise them by joining their expedition, I didn’t think he—”

“Barbatos. They are gone. Young Kaeya had an appointment, and I… I was not permitted to escort him.”

“Uh…” Barbatos peered up at him. “Zhongli—”

“Do not. I know what you would say, and you are wrong this time, spirit.” Zhongli glared at the anemo archon, waiting to see if he would interrupt. “You have been gone these last 500 years, Barbatos. Things have changed. More than I had hoped, it seems. My efforts have been clumsy and insufficient, and somehow, in these past few days, I appear to have rung the death knell for my relationship with The Spear That Strikes Faster Than the Wind. He clearly does hate me, regardless of the reassurances you and Madame Ping have been spouting. He likely has only been tolerating my presence for the sake of the hatch– Kaeya. If the last few minutes are an indicator, that tolerance has now been expended and he no longer trusts me with his child, either. He rejected my assistance with barely civil hostility, and teleported to the city with his child. He hates me. He truly hates me, and I have lost my son, and I do not know what to do– I cannot continue like this, yet I must continue, the people still need me, I– I– I just can’t, and…”

Venti, who had been oddly silent the whole time, simply staring at him, now disappeared without a word.

Venti, too, had left.

Zhongli had clearly managed to alienate him too, in his ranting. Of course. The anemo archon was his equal, and he had treated him as an ignorant child. No wonder Barbatos hated him as well, now. The dragon was vile and unfit to associate with.

He should not remain here. Should Xiao return, and find him standing there, he would undoubtedly be angry.

He should leave.

He did not wish to. He desperately wanted one last glimpse of the one he thought of as a son, who legally was his and did not know it, who he wished he could… But Adeptus Xiao did not want Zhongli in his life.

So he left.

The dragon’s abode rarely felt so empty as it did now. Zhongli was not a particularly social creature; normally, he rather enjoyed having all his tunnels to himself. Now, however, the empty rooms and corridors simply seemed to echo rejection back at him, as though they carried the absence of all the sound that should have run through them in his future. A future he would not have, a future with children and grandchildren enjoying his home…

He was not crying. He was a dragon, a god, and archon. Archons did not cry.

But here, no one could see the lie.

He wished they could, if only so there was someone else here.

He would have to talk to Ping, soon. He had hoped to solve the problem of Kaeya’s sensitive eye himself, an excuse to get close to his grandchild… further proof of his unfitness as a parental figure, that he would put his own selfish desires ahead of a child’s health and happiness. Ping was an expert with enchantments connected to healing; how quickly could she have resolved the issue, and given the hatchling clear, unpained sight? And he had delayed. Delayed because he wanted to get the credit. Wanted to solve it himself.

It was no wonder he was so hated. Likely Kaeya hated him as well, and had requested not to be made to stay with him again. He had hurt him last time, after all, with that too-spicy food.

Standing still as stone just inside his abode, Zhongli sunk deep into his own dark thoughts as though they were a mudbath.