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Childe stared at the pile of paperwork on his desk with a sigh, knowing that it (and Ekaterina’s disappointment) was all that stood between him and an educational walk with Zhongli through the Guili Assembly. Naturally, though, today was the day when all the reports came in for the Northland Bank and Childe had, once again, lost a bet with an agent. He really should stop doing that if his luck wasn’t turning around.
Whatever the case, he should just put his head down and make sure everything is in order so that he could make it out on time. So, that’s exactly what he did.
Or rather, that’s what he would have done if everything hadn’t gone horrifically wrong over the next fifteen minutes.
For one, some of the numbers on one of the forms were wrong, and Childe had only noticed it after filling out several others using those calculations. To make matters worse, he had been putting all the completed pages into one stack and now he would have to sort through them all to find the ones that were affected by the problem. Realizing that it would set him back quite a bit of time, Childe grimaced as he started rifling through the pages.
That was when the second thing went wrong.
Something felt off. It felt really off. Every instinct Childe had began screaming at him to move and that there was danger. He lunged away from the desk without thinking twice—and not a second too soon. A loud bang rang out in the room as something collided with his desk, sending every single piece of paper flying into the air. The only thing Childe could think as he looked at the broken remains of the desk was that he might have to send an agent to tell Zhongli that he won’t be able to meet up, after all.
The third thing was not a thing at all.
As Childe stared at the gigantic form of the exuvia that was now on the floor of his office—and that was definitely not where it was supposed to be—he couldn’t help but wonder if this was Zhongli’s way of telling him that he should just leave work and come to the Guili Assembly for their rendezvous. He was still the man who dropped his own corpse out of the sky instead of something less crazy, after all.
And then it opened its eyes.
Childe stared at the (apparently alive) exuvia. The exuvia stared back.
“Uhh, hi?” Childe said with an awkward little wave. This was really, really weird.
The massive dragon-qilin huffed out a breath, then tried to reposition itself to be somewhat more comfortable in the small office. It kept its eyes on him the entire time, even as the rest of its elongated body moved fluidly and carefully throughout the room, and Childe was more than confused. Zhongli would definitely have turned back into his normal form by now—ignoring the fact that Zhongli had always just walked through the doors like any other person—so something was up.
“Mortal,” the exuvia rumbled, its deep and soothing voice seeming to resonate in Childe’s mind. “Tell me, what is this place?”
What? Childe looked around with a confused frown. “This is my office?”
The exuvia tilted its head to the side slightly, almost as if in confusion, and Childe couldn’t help but internally admit that he found it very, very cute. (In particular, imagining Zhongli’s typical adorable confused face to compare it to only made it cuter.)
“Office? So this is your abode, mortal?”
“Abode? Wait, you think I live here?” Childe asked, not liking which answer the connecting dots were starting to lead him toward. “No, I just work here. And just call me Childe.”
Though it appeared to be slightly confused by his offered name, it seemed that the exuvia just accepted it. Finally taking its eyes off of him, the exuvia cast a cursory glance around the room. Its eyes paused noticeably on a shelf where an antique vase sat. Admittedly, Childe had to agree that it was a very pretty vase, and that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Zhongli had picked it out for him as a decoration.
The exuvia hummed for a moment before a bright, golden light filled the room—so bright that Childe had to close his eyes and look away. When he opened them again, a man in white and brown robes lined with gold accents was standing in the middle of the room. Long, dark hair fell loosely down his back, the exuvia’s golden horns extended from the crown of his head, and he walked barefoot on the carpeted floor. He turned, and Childe struggled to keep his jaw from falling open.
Zhongli—no, from his actions, this had to be Morax—looked absolutely breathtaking. The sheer regality he exuded was every bit becoming of the god he was, and Childe could now recognize some lingering traces of that aura that his Zhongli still had.
The archon (was he an archon yet? Childe didn’t know) gazed at him with piercing golden eyes. “I apologize for imposing on your place of employment, but perhaps this form would be more suitable.”
Not trusting himself to be able to speak properly, Childe just nodded. What could he even say, realistically?
“I presume you know not how I arrived here, either. This does not resemble the battlefield where I had been only a few moments ago…” Morax mused as he approached Childe. “I sense no danger here.”
“Well, yeah,” Childe muttered with an awkward chuckle, “the world has been really peaceful for a while. I don’t know how you got here, but I guess you’re from a really troubled time long in the past.”
Though Morax seemed confused by the idea, there weren’t really many other potential explanations that seemed plausible. Regardless, Childe didn’t think it would be a bad idea to reassure him a bit anyway. Although…. He was supposed to meet up with Zhongli, and even he didn’t think it was a good idea to have the two of them meet.
This would be a problem.
Deciding it would be a problem for Future Childe, he walked over to the window instead and waved Morax over. Opening the shutters, Childe gestured out at Liyue Harbor below. “You asked where you were. We’re in Liyue, and this is the harbour, the capital city. A centre of commerce for all of Teyvat, and a nation of peace, prosperity, and equality.”
The god’s eyes widened as he looked out from the bank’s window over the sprawling city below them. Children laughed and played in the streets, vendors hawked their wares, and boats docked at the piers to unload their goods. For a moment, Childe thought that Morax was stunned into silence, but his shocked expression quickly settled into a fond and gentle smile that wouldn’t look at all out of place on Zhongli’s face.
“My people are living well,” he said softly, still transfixed by the sight outside. “We must have succeeded in bringing an end to that despicable game.”
Game? Is he referring to the Archon war? Childe wondered, before pausing for a minute. And who is this “we”?
He couldn’t linger on his thoughts for long though, since Morax turned back to him. “May we go outside? I wish to see what has become of my lands.”
Well, Childe wouldn’t be getting much more work done anyway, so it didn’t bother him much. There was one small problem, though…
“I don’t mind, but you’ll probably have to change. People now don’t really wear uh…” Childe gestured at Morax’s clothes, at a loss for words.
“Ah, I see.” Morax frowned, clearly at least somewhat upset at the prospect that something as minor as odd clothing would prevent him from seeing the world. “May I trouble you to borrow something to wear?”
The first thing that Childe could think of was the multiple versions of his uniform that Ekaterina had decided to keep in the office just in case debt collecting had gotten a bit messier than expected. The second thing was that he would probably actually drop dead seeing Zhongli wearing his uniform. No, he would have to find another solution.
“My room at the guesthouse isn’t too far away, but I don’t want you drawing too much attention on the way, so—”
“Say no more. Perhaps this would be sufficient?”
Another golden light filled the room, and Childe had to squint to avoid being blinded. When it faded, the god looked like any average dark-haired woman, wearing a plain dress in a classic style. It seemed that Morax couldn’t change her eyes, though, because they were the same blazing gold as always.
“There,” she said with a curt nod. “Now it will not seem odd for you to have someone in your room.”
Childe decided not to comment on the fact that his staff were all very much aware that he was extremely gay and in love with one man in particular, so if they saw him bring a woman into his apartment, they would absolutely question him on it later. However, Morax looked absolutely certain of her decision and Childe wasn’t about to dump his entire romantic history on the god that would eventually become the man he was in love with. That would be way too much trouble.
Instead, Childe just smiled and nodded, gesturing for her to follow him out of the bank. She was extremely curious, looking at everything as they descended the stairs into the main hall, and Childe made sure to pointedly ignore Ekaterina’s baffled stare. He could get chewed out by her later for not finishing his work, the broken desk she would inevitably find, and for betraying Zhongli despite the fact that Childe hadn’t even mustered the guts to tell the consultant he loved him. He definitely wasn’t looking forward to it, but that would be another problem for Future Childe to handle.
Once they were in the guesthouse, Morax took the opportunity to not only change back into the form of a man, but also change into some of Childe’s offered casual clothes in Liyue style—ones Zhongli had chosen for him on one of their many previous shopping sprees. Morax let his hair go loose once more, not even tying it back in the way Zhongli did now. The horns were still gone, thankfully, because Childe really didn’t like the idea of trying to explain those to anyone who might ask.
Looking at Morax again, with his hair down like that and wearing clothes that didn’t draw as much attention as his previous ones had, Childe noticed for the first time just how androgynous the god looked. It suited him, even though his face was slightly different than the one Childe was familiar with—it was slightly more youthful, with features that couldn’t be accurately assigned to any specific gender, and a very subtle glow of the power that ran through his veins. He was already aware that Morax was something more than human, and even in the clothes of ordinary people, he still stood out.
It would have to do, though. With any luck, if anyone saw them, they would just think he was walking around with Zhongli who had… decided to try a new style or something. It was a flimsy excuse at best, really, and absolutely wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny if Zhongli was asked about it later. Childe didn’t really have any other options, though, so he just opened the door for Morax and began leading him through the city. Thankfully, the weather was lovely and Childe most certainly did not take the opportunity to imagine asking Zhongli to let his hair down when he saw the way Morax’s hair gently blew in the breeze.
Childe pointed out staple places—Granny Shan’s toy shop, Third-Round Knockout, and the Adventurer’s Guild, to name a few—as they walked, and he tried to avoid getting too close to anyone just in case they noticed something was off. Morax didn’t seem to mind that at all, thankfully. He seemed more enthralled by the sights and sounds of the city and was far too busy looking around to want to socialize. He only paused when he caught sight of Wanmin Restaurant.
“There is a pleasant scent wafting from that building,” he remarked, drawing Childe’s attention to the familiar location. Judging by the chipper voice coming from the restaurant, it seemed that Xiangling was in the kitchen helping that day.
Childe nodded and smiled. “It’s a restaurant. Want anything to eat?”
Morax looked slightly puzzled—which made a bit of sense, now that Childe thought about it. He doubted there were many restaurants in the middle of the Archon War in the first place, or that Morax would have any time or desire to visit one when he was already so busy.
“Wanmin sells some of the best food in the city,” Childe continued, trying to give him the information that he seemingly wasn’t wanting to ask for. “I go there all the time, and even though we can’t sit down for a meal, I’m sure they’ll have something we can eat as we walk.”
Nodding once, Morax smiled slightly. “Very well. Is it correct to assume that mora is still the currency in this era?”
“It is, why do you ask—”
Morax held out his hand and with a (hopefully unnoticeable) flash of golden light, he created a pile of mora within it. “I know not how much this food will cost, but it is my hope that this will be sufficient.”
It took all of Childe’s willpower to not break down laughing hysterically in the middle of the street. Zhongli had explained to him before that he had always just been able to create mora when he needed it, and that was why he always forgot his wallet, but Childe hadn’t expected this. He also couldn’t help but appreciate the absolute irony that was the not-yet Geo Archon giving him, Fatui Harbinger and maybe the richest person in Liyue other than Ningguang, money to buy food from Wanmin Restaurant.
A few chuckles escaped him anyway, but Childe managed to wave away Morax’s confusion by taking the money with a smile. There was way too much to pay for anything they would be buying, but at least now with the Golden House being out of commission, adding some extra mora into circulation wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
“I’ll be right back,” Childe assured him quickly, waiting only for the god to give him a sign of confirmation, before he went up to the counter and looked at the menu.
There were a few options that would work well as they were walking, but he decided that rice buns would probably be the safest bet. Zhongli had told him once that he avoided seafood due to some incident that happened a very long time ago, but Childe had no idea when or if it had already happened by Morax’s era. As much as Childe loved a good grilled tiger fish or two on occasion, it would not be a good idea to have an upset god in the middle of the city.
Making a bit of small talk with Chef Mao as he ordered and waving to Xiangling in the back, Childe did his best to keep their attention on him and not Morax, who was standing not too far away. It seemed that he didn’t do as good of a job as he thought, though, because Xiangling rushed up to the front, Guoba in tow.
“To go?” She asked insistently after hearing him order, a frown growing on her face. “Aww, and here I was hoping to get Zhongli-xiansheng’s opinion on some new modifications I made to the Triple-Layered Consommé.”
Even as she wilted for a moment, Xiangling bounced back quickly to her normal, chipper state. “It’s alright, though! But you have to drop by soon, before Guoba and I head to Inazuma to get some new and exciting ingredients. Just think of all the possibilities!”
“I’ll schedule it in, don’t worry,” Childe laughed as Chef Mao passed him two orders of rice buns with a shake of his head, muttering something about his daughter’s antics. “Knowing you, I’m sure it’ll be great.”
“Of course it will, bye now!” Xiangling called as she leaned out the door and waved to him as he walked off. Guoba did the same, but then leaned out a bit too far and toppled over. That little companion of hers was too adorable.
He passed one of the bags of rice buns to Morax before opening his own and took a large bite out of the warm food. It was good, as always, and Morax seemed to be just as satisfied with it—albeit thoughtful. There was one strange thing, though. For a moment, it looked almost as if Morax’s fingers were beginning to turn see-through, but Childe brushed it off as a trick of the light before deciding to make conversation to distract himself.
“I hope this is a good option, since I figured you might not want grilled tiger fish,” Childe said between bites as they walked away. Morax looked at him for a moment, his mouth morphing into a small frown.
“This is quite good; however, do you perhaps mean grilled ticker fish? An acquaintance of mine, Pervases, is very fond of it. I cannot say that I am, however.”
Ticker fish? Childe wondered. He was pretty certain it was tiger fish. Had the name changed over the years? Besides that, the name Pervases seemed a bit familiar… he vaguely recalled some news about an old temple dedicated to an adeptus getting rebuilt, so maybe they were related. Regardless, Morax seemed distracted, and Childe decided to do something about that.
“Something on your mind?”
Morax shook his head. “Nothing bad. I am simply happy to see that Marchosius is still doing what he loves most. I sensed him as we were walking, but seeing him with my own two eyes was pleasant as well.”
“Marchosius?”
That wasn’t a name Childe was familiar with at all, not even through Fatui intel.
“Marchosius is the god of the stove, as well as the bear helping that young lady cook,” Morax told him. “He is much smaller than I recall, though he still looks the same otherwise. His greatest joy has always been to cook for the people, and to teach them how to make delicious food for themselves.”
Well, that wasn’t something Childe heard every day. Absently, he wondered if Xiangling knew that she had a diminutive god at her side, but it was slightly relieving to see Morax looking happier than before. Nodding in understanding, Childe finished up his rice buns.
“That’s really cool, I didn’t know that at all,” Childe commented with a smile.
Smiling back, Morax continued. “There is plenty of history engraved in this land, even in my era. I cannot imagine how much has been added to it in the years since. However, I do have one question for you.”
“Ask away,” Childe replied with a grin. He might not be an expert on anything Liyue except for how to give people a heart attack with his chopstick skills (which was only just maybe another reason why food they could eat while walking had been preferable), but maybe he could put some of Zhongli’s lectures to use.
The question that came out of the god’s mouth was not at all what he was expecting, though.
“Who is Zhongli?”
For a moment, Childe wondered if Morax should be using an honorific for Zhongli since, well, his future self was older than him. Not that he knew it, but now Childe had to figure out a way to answer without including that particular piece of information.
“Zhongli is… well, he’s a lot of things, really,” Childe began, trying to skirt around the lawachurl in the room. “He’s extremely knowledgeable, polite, and a good conversationalist. We’re good friends.”
He was met with silence, and Childe glanced nervously over at Morax, wondering why he wasn’t saying anything else. Was that not enough? Should he talk about Wangsheng? He knew that the parlour had a long history, but was theirs a name that Morax would recognize?
Instead, Morax just looked at him with an unintelligible expression. “Just a friend?”
“What!? Yeah! We’re just friends—”
“Even though I can see the sheer adoration present in your eyes whenever his name is even so much as mentioned?” Morax pointed out, and Childe couldn’t even find the words to protest.
It was that obvious, huh?
He deflated a bit, but just shrugged. “I haven’t told him yet. Not sure I should.”
“The others always tell me that I am not the one to go to in the case of a trouble of the heart,” Morax told him, placing a gentle and warm hand on his shoulder with a soft smile, “but if he has feelings for you as well, then I am certain that he already knows. He would have seen that look on your face.”
If Childe wasn’t so touched, he probably would have laughed at the irony.
“Thanks, I’ll try eventually,” he replied, “but let’s keep going, yeah?”
Now, where to next? Yujing terrace? It was a nice vantage point, for sure. He was also pretty sure that the Millelith wouldn’t arrest him on sight for walking up there, but not certain. Whatever, it would be fine.
With a quick gesture definitely not meant to change the subject, Childe pointed toward Yujing Terrace. “Do you want to go up to the terrace? It’s pretty nice up there.”
Morax followed his finger with his golden-eyed gaze, and nodded in agreement. “It looks like it will be a lovely walk.”
They made small talk as they strolled through Feiyun Slope and ascended the stone steps to the picturesque location. Though Morax seemed momentarily distracted by the old woman standing by the glaze lilies, she made no move to speak to him—just sending a fond smile and a nod—even as they walked by her. Childe was a bit curious, but Morax soon noticed several people praying with incense and headed toward them to investigate more.
As one man finished, he handed them his unused incense and told them they could put it to good use while they were here.
“To whom are they praying?” Morax whispered, trying to look around and find any evidence of a god.
Childe pulled out the incense and clumsily lit it the way Zhongli showed him once. “To Rex Lapis, Liyue’s god.”
Thankfully, Morax seemed to understand why Childe wasn’t about to say his name, but he opted out of lighting incense in honour of himself. Instead, his attention was on a woman who was crying through her prayers.
Morax drew Childe’s attention to her with a subtle gesture (and was his hand more translucent than before? Strange). “Is she alright?”
Ah. There it was. The other lawachurl in the room.
(Or should it be the exuvia corpse in the room? Childe wasn’t sure.)
He stayed silent for a moment, trying to find what to say, then decided it would be for the best if they went somewhere a bit more private. Leading the god over to the railing, Childe decided to just say it.
“Rex Lapis died earlier this year. The people are still grieving.”
Childe glanced over at the god, trying to judge his reaction, but he said nothing. He seemed to be deep in thought, and Childe shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m sorry, it must be hard to hear that you’re dead,” Childe muttered, trying to ignore the guilt welling up inside him from the lie.
Morax shook his head. “On the contrary, I am not at all upset.”
“What do you mean?”
Looking at him now, the god really didn’t seem sad. If anything, his gaze seemed to have softened, and Childe could swear that he had already accepted this fate. It didn’t make sense. Why would a god as powerful as Morax, especially one who hadn’t been ruling Liyue alone for over 3000 years, just accept the knowledge of his own future death?
“Childe, I come from a chaotic era—fraught with danger—where mortals flocked to gods for sanctuary. As the divine war that rages puts their fragile lives in peril, I have dedicated myself to protecting them.” Glancing at Childe, Morax smiled bittersweetly and gestured to the city below with a hand that was definitely disappearing this time, and Childe couldn’t pass it off as his imagination anymore. “This Harbour exists, and that alone tells me that I completed my duty as their god. How could I be dissatisfied that I lived long enough to see my people prosper in a time of peace?”
“I… suppose you’re right,” Childe admitted, because what else could he do?
That was when he looked down and noticed how Morax was gradually becoming transparent, and at a much quicker rate than before. It wasn’t just his hand at this point, and Childe wasn’t sure what to do in the face of the god literally disappearing in front of his eyes.
“You—”
“I know,” Morax said calmly. “It seems my time here has come to an end.”
Before Childe could say anything, Morax looked at Childe with a gentle smile. “I can see it on your face, Childe. Worry not. This has given me all the motivation I need to see it all come to pass once more.”
“You’ll be a great god, you know?” Childe told him, feeling more choked up than he expected. “I don’t know everything, but you always did your best.”
“Thank you. You were a great guide as well.” He was barely visible now, but his voice still lingered in the air. “And Childe?”
“Yeah?”
“Tell him.”
And then he was gone. Only the salty breeze coming off the ocean reached the terrace, and Childe was left staring at a place where a god had once stood. He wouldn’t let him down. He couldn’t. So, Childe took a deep breath and turned to walk out toward the Guili Plains where he would apologize to Zhongli for being late, and would then spill the most nerve-wracking secret he had ever kept.
As he walked down the path, he couldn’t help but feel that the earth itself was encouraging him, no matter how ridiculous that seemed. Morax was gone, and now all that remained was Zhongli. Beautiful, amazing Zhongli.
Up ahead, Childe saw his brown suit and dark hair, and that oh-so-familiar smile when Zhongli finally caught sight of him.
“I’m sorry for being late, Xiansheng,” Childe said sheepishly, only for Zhongli to shake his head and tell him not to worry about it. Zhongli started walking away, but he turned when he noticed that Childe wasn’t following him.
But now… now there was only one thing left to do. He walked up to Zhongli, close enough that they could touch. Childe’s heart beat erratically in his chest, and he could feel his palms sweating. He could do this. Morax had told him to do it, even.
He just had to force himself to say it.
“Zhongli! I have something to tell you. I love you. I have for a while. I know this might be out of nowhere but—”
“Oh, Childe,” Zhongli whispered fondly as he held Childe’s face in his hands, “I have been waiting for this for a very, very long time.”
Then Zhongli closed his eyes, leaned in, and time stopped.