Chapter Text
Guizhong woke up to a rustling sound in the hallway. Blearily she smacked herself awake and listened closer to the noise.
A racoon? No, it couldn’t be. Her and her roommate Zhongli lived on the 11th floor of an apartment building. Then… a thief? Probably, they’ve had one before. Some clueless gold digger saw Zhongli’s dress sense and thought to follow them home. It was a shame they didn’t know that for all of Zhongli’s delicate appearance, he wasn’t the type to hesitate if he believed someone deserved a broken nose.
Oh, well then. Maybe she should get up. Call an ambulance for the poor sucker who’d find himself pitted against the force of nature that was her roommate.
She pulled herself from her blanket and grabbed her phone from the table…
… And was blasted with light.
“Zhongli, it’s 3 am.” Rasps Guizhong, “The fuck’re you doing?” She eyes her roommate who was busy stuffing a random assortment of items into a suitcase. As far as she knows, Zhongli turned down any invitations to any parties or trips after graduation. So, either he felt the need to reitemise their entire house, or he bought something new and needed to make space asap. At 3 in the morning, as one does.
“Packing.” Ugh, darn Zhongli and his linear manner of speech.
“No, I meant what for? Why are you packing? Do you need space? Are you running from the mob? What’s good?” The girl chatters sarcastically. In return, her roommate looks her dead in the eye and says, “I’m going to Morespok Snezhnaya.”
“For how long.”
“For as long as it takes.”
Guizhong nods sagely. She knew just what this was about. Many of Zhongli’s award winning presentations have been fuelled by sudden gusts of restless inspiration, bequeathed upon him him by some cool artefact or poetry. This was no different.
“This is about the Snezhnayan furry porn, isn’t it.” By the disappointed look on Zhongli’s face she was absolutely correct.
“It was not porn. It was a historical fiction piece based off of a local Snezhnayan legend. The red fox of Snezhnaya is an absolutely fascinating myth with obscure beginnings and the peculiar fact that it is only found on the fringes of loca-“ Guizhong cuts him with with a raised hand. She’s heard all of Zhongli’s reasons as to why this myth is so fascinating to him. That did not discount the fact that this fascination most certainly stemmed from furry porn.
She shivers remembering seeing Zhongli oddly engrossed by a piece of literature in the library. Innocently, naively, she had asked her dear friend what he was so taken by. Seeing absolutely nothing wrong with what he was reading he turned the book to Guizhong.
That day, her eyeballs lost their virginity.
Presently, Zhongli huffs. “It wasn’t my fault that the university’s library had mythical erotica in their collection.”
“And who’s fault was it that you continued reading it even after I informed you it was literal furry porn.” Guizhong narrows her eyes. Zhongli, in true Zhongli fashion slides his luggage shut. Passive aggression simmering in his movement.
“What are you going to do about your job, Li?” Asks Guizhong, the reasonable one of the two.
“I have come to an agreement with Ningguang of the Qixing Conservation centre that I start work next year.” Answers Zhongli, the persistent one of the two.
Sometimes, Guizhong hated Zhongli’s dedication. While the man sometimes lacked common sense, he had a razor sharp wit and an unmatched attention to detail. When he set his sights on a goal, it would be achieved. Plans would be set, contingencies would be made, no detail, no matter how small would be over looked. He was scarily strategic in the way he did almost anything. Hell, even the mess in his bedroom was calculated to his utility and tastes.
This trip to Snezhnaya too must’ve been fully thought out. There was little Guizhong could do to talk him out of it, much less to throw a wrench in his plans.
“Just…” She rubs her temples. She should go back to sleep before a headache sets in. “Just don’t die out there.”
Zhongli nods, a perfect smile on his stupid symmetrical face. Guizhong rolls her eyes and goes to sleep.
———
It had been about a month since Zhongli left. Guizhong was horribly, terribly alone. Sure, she had the benefit of moving some of her projects into his room, but there was no…. Zhongli. No one to talk her ear of about funny legends, or help her double check her calculations or to hear out her sick plans to build human sized gun and tell her the exact legality of it.
Thus was the struggle of an extrovert who lost their designated introvert.
“Ughh… I’m so lonely.” Guizhong groaned into her strawberry milk. Beside her Ping was scrolling on her phone, resolutely ignoring her. “UgHGUGHuhhh..! If Zhongli were here he’d buy me a snack.” Ping tapped the screen.
How rude, maybe she should have tried a bit harder to make Zhongli stay. Then again, Zhongli did purposefully hide his plans until the last day because he knew that if she knew, Guizhong would have tried to stop him.
Dang. They knew each other too well. Was that a good thing or a bad thing.
“Guizhong.” Ping called her attention, to which Guizhong harrumphed and turned away.
“Damn, okay.” Said Ping. “Guess you aren’t worried about Zhongli getting kidnapped and sacrificed by a cult on the fringes of Snezhnaya.”
Guizhong spat out her milk.
As it turns out, The Red Fox is not just some erotica author’s hot OC. It was a real entity in Snezhnayan mythology, worshipped almost exclusively within Morespok and other more rural areas of Snezhnaya.
According to the seedy, barebones websites Ping found, the Red Fox roughly symbolises: family, loyalty and protection, but also violence, bloodlust, obsession, corruption, the abyssal arts… needless to say, it was more of a bad omen than good. Strangely enough, Morespok, the village where the Red Fox was most worshipped, had a recurring history of death and disappearances. There were allegations of secret cult activities but many of them were explained away by wolf or bear attacks and people getting lost and frozen in the woods.
Guizhong pulled out her own phone.
———
Gui
Heyheyhey
I know you won’t see this bc its midnight there but call me when u wake up
Got smtg i wanna ask u
Li
Calling you now.
———
“Zhongli, what are you doing awake past 10 on a weekday night?” Is the first thing she says, because it is the first thing that comes to mind. Her Zhongli sleeps at 9. If he doesn’t, then he has a diabolical plan up his sleeves, its just how he operates.
“Well, uh. The research, Guizhong.” Guizhong sighs into the microphone. The research, of course its the research. She’s never letting Zhongli visit libraries alone anymore. She can’t believe she has to supervise his reading now.
“I actually wanted to talk to you about that right now. Ping Ping is with me right now and we were looking up your Red Fox. There’s barely any info on it, most of it isn't credible and all of it is bad. As in, it is a demon and harbinger of despair kind of bad.” She rambles.
“Funny you should mention that.” Replies Zhongli, and oh no, something in what Guizhong said has peaked Zhongli’s neurons and now he’ll proceed to tell her all about his finding without sparing a thought for her cautions. “The Red Fox actually rose as imagery associated with the 11th Harbinger of old Snezhnaya, a very interesting character. In between my visits to the museum and libraries, I’ve been collecting oral folk tale and asking around about —“
He’s going to go on forever now, thought Guizhong, sinking down into a chair and resigning herself to the lecture.
Zhongli starts of recounting the tale of Tartaglia, 11th of her majesties harbingers.
(“What does this have to do w—“
“Patience, friend.”)
Tartaglia was a startling contrast to the other harbingers of the time. While the harbingers and the Tsaritsa’s court as a whole favoured more secretive and underhanded methods to ensure their success, Tartaglia spoke rather openly about his distaste for them and the harbingers that used them. Those who disagreed with him called him stupid, those who liked him called him brave.
He was also much more popular than the others. While most of the Harbingers cut stern and oppressive silhouettes, Tartaglia was portrayed in a different light, appearing in most of propaganda material of that time.
This could be attributed to 2 things:
Firstly, his charming and youthful appearance. Being the youngest of the 11 and also having one of the more friendlier visages made him feel much more approachable than the others. Him often making public appearances and going to bars helped strengthen that image. As more propaganda appeared starring him as a paragon of strength only drove that popularity forward.
Second, his filial obligations. Tartaglia was the Vanguard of the Tsaritsa’s military, thus an extremely public figure even before any propaganda. His leave from the military was often made public by word of mouth and he left often. Tartaglia was known to make regular trips from the capital to Morespok to care for his family and send money over. He also made frequent donations to many orphanages and even led afford to ban adolescent recruitment though he himself had joined the Fatui and flourished at the age of 14.
However, he had attracted as many dissenters as fans.
For one, though he was notably different from the other harbingers, he was no less cruel. Being extremely publicised, many people had also heard of his violent methods. He turned any battlefield he stepped onto into a blood bath. His training was ruthless and most new recruits inducted into his unit will walk out with broken noses.
Perhaps the image of a man who took care of children didn't line up well with someone who would execute his own comrade on the spot to this day, he remains to be en extremely polarising figure in Snezhnayan history.
(“He was also a very handsome young man. Here, I’ll send you a photo.”
“Oh my god, MOVE ON.”)
Right, yes, the connection between Tartaglia and The Red Fox.
Another distinction between Tartaglia and the other harbingers was in their appearance. Every harbinger had a portrait painted of themselves. Most of them were in blacks, whites, greys and blues. Tartaglia was red.
Against a backdrop of snow, seated on a throne and flanked by royal wolves, Tartaglia stood out against backdrop with wild ginger hair and a blood red scarf.
(“A gift from his mother. He was a very loving son, you see, he-”)
He also famously made a speech saying how Snezhnaya’s snow white plains were perfect to be stained by bloodshed.
(“He was also photographed many times covered head to toe in blood. Here, I’ll send you a pho-”
“I DO NOT WANT YOUR PHOTOS.”)
Tartaglia soon became associated with the colour red. The imagery of a fox came later when poets and play writes likened his swift fighting style and sharp instincts to that of a sly and cunning fox. Should a poem written about the harbingers ever mention a red fox, it may very well be a reference to Tartaglia.
Then, the cataclysm struck. The Tsaritsa and her harbingers had struck down the heavens. This event was heavily documented by all the nations of Teyvat, but not so much of what happened in Snezhnaya after.
The Tsaritsa fell in the great war and her remaining harbingers were quick to seize control of Snezhnaya. Under their leadership, the harbingers led Snezhnaya out of the era of gods and into the era of humanity. However, the war left them with many scars and all of them eventually succumbed to an early grave.
Tartaglia was mainly credited with rebuilding Snezhnaya’s defences as well as redefining a few millard policies but began to sink into seclusion. He returned to Morespok which was blossoming into a lucrative port city under his rule to live his family, but there, many noticed the vestiges of madness that clung to him.
In the end, his family tried to care for him, but he became angry and violent. He eventually lost himself to madness, killing hundreds of innocents before fleeing into the woods.
To this day, Morespok has not recovered from the damaged their own harbinger had done to them. Locals say the village is cursed by Tartaglia’s spirit, that he is still alive to this day occasionally returning to the village to sate his bloodlust. Too fearful to utter his name, they refer to him as the Red Fox.
“One last photo, Guizhong. This is an art piece dedicated to the tragedy of Tartaglia’s disappearance. It is beautiful as it is haunting. I bought a postcard with it on the back, I’ll be sending that to you too.” Says Zhongli. Not a second later, Guizhong’s phone buzzes against her ear.
The image is of a postcard in Zhongli’s gloved hand showcasing Tartaglia in a white coat lined with black fur. Blood flows down his arms in rivers and pools at his feet. Behind him are the burning remains of his estate, the licking flames vaguely resembling a fox. In the middle of all the carnage are two hollow blue eyes, stark against the red of his own people. Gods, Zhongli was so weird.
“It looks great.” Guizhong lies, “Hey, Li, looks like you know all about this Red Fox character now, maybe you could, y’know come home?”
Guizhong doesn’t need to see Zhongli’s face to know he’s scrunching up his face. “Guizhong, I have hardly discovered anything at all. The museum was vague on Tartaglia’s demise, in fact they state he had been lost to suicide while the locals tell a different story. In fact, what I know about Tartaglia’s transition into the Red Fox I gleaned from helpful locals at the fish market. Granted I need more information to make a conclusion. I will go to Morespok myself and uncover the truth of it all.”
“That isn’t the point, Li. People regularly go missing in Morespok. I don’t like the idea of you going there!” Guizhong whines, “What’s so interesting about this guy anyway?!”
There is a short gasp over the line, “Tartaglia had lived a colourful life and there are many mysteries still surrounding him, Guizhong. For example, his life before the fatui is never touched upon, nor are the local myths centring the Fox linear to Tartaglia himself. While Tartaglia remains the root of the Fox’s inception, eventually he evolved.”
“…”
“I can take care of myself, Guizhong. I am a capable adult man, I swear.”
Guizhong sighs. She sinks down in her chair, the back of her head makes an audible thump against the headrest. Why does she even try. “Just 11 months more, Li. And I’m picking you up from the airport.”
“Mm, okay. I will send you the rest of my flight details, and I will inform you if anything goes south.” Says Zhongli, then as if it wasn’t bad enough already, he adds, “Ah, this might not be the best time to inform you, but Morespok does not have… any reception, I’ve been told. I doubt I will be able to contact you once I leave the capital.”
Guizhong’s eye is twitching relentlessly. She can see the headlines in her head, ‘Liyuen man kills several cultists in Snezhnayan fishing village’, or worse, ‘Liyuean man gets lost in forest and fucking dies’.
Positive thoughts, Guizhong, think positively.
“At the very least…” She racks her brain hard, this is possibly the toughest bout toxic positivity she’s ever tried to conjure, “You’re getting over your man-crush on Rex Lapis and moving on to Tartag… Tar… Tartaglia…”
Guizhong’s brand of genius takes time. If Zhongli’s methods are fuelled by meticulousness, each step toward a goal made through carefully laid plans, then Guizhong was his perfect antithesis. Hours, weeks, sometimes even months of contemplation before spontaneous inspiration strikes. Sometimes, these flashes of genius come miraculously out of nowhere. Other times, they are triggered by words, images or dreams.
She was getting one of those flashes now.
‘Zhongli’ ‘Man-Crush’ ‘Tartaglia’
Behind her eyelids she sees dozens of images. Each one piecing together like a grand spool of thread unfurling.
She recalls Azhdaha. Built like a truck, rugged with wild hair. He was kind and gentle but lost himself to aggression.
She recalls Osial. Tall slender, always conducting himself with the dignity (and haughtiness) of a prince. He was a snake through and through. His lanky stature and dressing hid his strength, and his practiced smile hid his wickedness.
She thinks of the portrait Tartaglia. Lean, strong Tartaglia with his broad shoulders and muscled thighs.
She thinks of how her roommate described Tartaglia. Benevolent and filial, but also sadistic, succumbing to violent madness in his later years.
“My god. It all makes sense.” Guizhong whispers reverently, for it seems the gods of deductive reasoning have lain the answers at her feet yet again. Distantly, she can hear Zhongli asking her if she’s okay. Her grip slackens for a moment and Ping steals her milk.
“It was all because of the porn.”
———
It has been eight months since that conversation. Zhongli bought a portable router to try and stay in touch, but the reception was terrible and of his messages failed to send, turning their communications sparse and frustrating. Thus conversations with her dear friend became sparse until she accepted the fact that she would not hear from him until he returned to the capital.
He still sent her the occasional image of what was going on though.
A photo of the family who was housing him during his investigation. From the messages Zhongli painstaking sent and resent over a week, they were thrilled to hear of Zhongli’s research and hoped it would dispel negative rumours about Morespok and Tartaglia.
He sent photos of the seaside view and one of the fish markets from a distance. Then a few of some stone carvings of a fox. Zhongli didn’t attach any descriptions to them, but Guizhong could guess what they were about.
Eventually, she received images of Zhongli by the edge of the forest, he had ropes tied to his waist and the trees and fluorescent ribbons in his pack. After Zhongli began combing the forests, photos became less frequent until they too pattered out.
All there was left was to wait for another 3 months.
In the meantime, Guizhong built a death laser.
The postcard Zhongli had promised her had arrived safely to their mailbox and Guizhong taped to to the wall infront of her desk while she worked on a prototype. It was surprisingly motivating. She used this method to help her build her saw blade launcher back in univerisity where she taped up a picture of Osial tangled up with Zhongli in a martial arts match.
Tartaglia was a very dead historical figure who died many many years ago, but hey, what works, works.
The only positive to Zhongli having shit taste in men was that somehow, it helped to solve her procrastination.
So engrossed she was in her work that she hadn’t noticed her phone buzz with a singular text
It was just after she finished her first bout of testing that she checked her phone and almost got a heart attack.
1 missed message from Li
———
Li
Guizhong, I hope you receive this. I cancelled my flicght booking a new one right now. I’ll be back a month earlier. Baby proof the house. I am oka
Gui
Zhongli??? Hello?
Wtf bro U cant leave me hanging
Hellooo>?????
———
Fucking hell, Guizhong warned him that this would happen. She told him there were cults in Snezhnaya, there were cults all over the world and her idiot friend actively chose to walk into one’s den. Shit, were there cultists coming here? To their home?
Guizhong got to work immediately, storing all of their loose collectibles in Zhongli’s room where all of their expensive stuff were kept. In her own room, she positioned the laser to face the door. At full power, it would tear straight through a human body and vaporise a bit of their wall. Also it may explode.
She considered calling the police, hesitated and called Cloud Retainer instead. She recounted the whole whole story and was not in the slightest bit surprised.
“Ping told me.” She said, deadpan and proceeded to tell her exactly what to say and do if she did end up resorting to murder.
“W-Will Li be okay?” Guizhong sniffles into the phone. She can hear shuffling from the other side. A second of hesitation, then an exasperated sigh.
“It’s Zhongli we’re talking about. He’ll be okay.” Cloud Retainer is right. Guizhong knows she is, so she swallows her heart back down and forces herself to wait another two months.
———
The death laser is no longer at risk of explosion.
Guizhong sleeps lightly, taking naps in the day to sleep less at night. Everyday she checks her phone for new messages but they don’t come. Zhongli hasn’t even sent her his new flight details.
As the month rolls by, living becomes a cycle of sleeping and waking in anxiousness.
Finally, the dreaded day comes.
She wakes up to the sounds of a scuffle outside her door. There is hushed voice speaking urgently in a tongue she can’t make out from behind the door.
She preps the laser, then she slowly, cautiously peeks out from the door…
… to be met with a sight of blazing reds and blues.
She backs away but but a deep blue eye had already locked onto her. A huge monster dressed in reddish orange fur lunges at her, bone white teeth peel open to reveal a long forked tongue, dripping in foamy drool.
But she wasnt going to be devoured. There was never a chance of that.
Gloved arms wind around the monsters mouth, forcing its jaw shut. The screech of rubber soles against the floor is deafening.
Before her Zhongli wrestles the Red Fox still. It growls and rasps, still trying to grab at Guizhong as if there wasn’t already a perfectly consumable human infront of it. Sweat trickles down ZHongli’s face and his legs strain to hold the beast back.
“I’m sorry for all this…” He gasps out through shaking breaths.
Guizhong has so many questions, but they fade away easily when he says, “I’ll clean the floors I promise.”
Guizhong is the stupid one for ever worrying him. Of course Zhongli was perfectly fine. No matter what he was embroiled in, he would always find a way to come out as the victor.
“How’d you get him past customs?” Guizhong asks, getting back up on her shaking legs. Zhongli does his best to shrug with both his arms occupied.
Guizhong backs away slowly, toward the fire exit. She holds the eerie one-eyed stare of the fox. It growls defiantly. “I’m gonna leave, for now.” She tells her friend. She knows he just got back, but she really didn’t want to be with him at the moment. Or rather, the fox and whatever Zhongli was going to do with it.
“While your out could you get some fish, or something that foxes eat?”
“In bulk?”
“Yes. And some silk flower scented candles, please. Make sure they’re authentic.”
Guizhong snorts and slips barefoot, out the window.
———
Li
His name is Ajax and he’s fallen asleep. It should be safe to return home now.
Also, I apologise again for wearing my shoes indoors
To answer your earlier query, I booked a different flight that allowed pets.
———
Ajax was the Red Fox. An abomination to nature with one eye, a jaw that reached up to his ears and a size that rivalled a rhinoceros. If he had taken a bite out of Guizhong that night, she would be missing her entire lower half.
Ajax was Tartaglia, the accursed 11th harbinger of old Snezhnaya. Slayer of gods. Devourer of men.
Ajax was the very funny fox laid over Zhongli’s lap receiving belly rubs.
‘Guizhong!’ Zhongli mouth to her from across the room, beckoning her over with his free hand. ‘Come pet him!’
‘You’re insane.’ She mouths back. Zhongli pouts at her as if she’s the one being unreasonable.
‘He’s super soft.’
‘I don’t care.’
Zhongli pouts harder. Sensing the diversion in Zhongli’s attention, Ajax whines and wriggles over Zhongli’s lap, prompting the man to bring both his hands to stitch the beast behind the ears. The demon purrs- purrs!- in satisfaction. Guizhong will admit that it is a little bit cute.
Guizhong did not unpack all of their furniture out from Zhongli’s room. Zhongli had instead opted to sleeping on the couch next to his new furry friend. Somehow the Silkflower scent was keeping the thing docile enough to pet.
How did Zhongli figure this out. Guizhong does not not know.
Zhongli said that Ajax told him, implying the fox could speak. From Guizhong’s observation, he was talking bullshit.
Begrudgingly, Guizhong inches closer to the fluffy furball. She raises her hand for a pet.
A set of teeth try to snap at her.
She sighs as Zhongli jumps to restrain the beast. Of course this would happen.
“Ajax, calm down, it’s just Guizhong. She is my friend. I’ve told you about her.” He whispers into the thing’s fur. He’s almost pressed entirely up against it, his lips to its fur. His smooth chocolate-y voice being deposited straight into it’s ear. Gross.
“Are you going to fuck that fox?” She asks dryly. Zhongli gasps, shocked. His hands smooth over the foxes ears but Guizhong swears the bitch licks its lips at the mention. Guizhong stares the fox down. It holds her venomous gaze evenly. Then, it turns onto its belly and licks a stripe up Zhongli’s chin, shutting up his speech about decency.
No way. Osial was bad enough, Guizhong was not going to loose her best friend to a fox of all things.
For now though, she retreats back to her room, making a show of not closing her door.
The fox’s eye follows her as Zhongli coddles it.
———
Guizhong’s life must be a tragedy. Almost a full year without her introvert and now that he’s back, she still have to talk to him via phone.
She rubs her temples as she paces around her room, waiting for Zhongli to pick up.
“Gui?” He picks up on the second ring.
“Li. Your fox is clawing at my door again.” She tells him, proceeding to place her phone against the door where soft thumps can be heard.
“Ajax wants to be your friend, Guizhong.” He tells her evenly. She can imagine the disapproving look on his face and she wants to punch him.
“He has always tried to eat me, Li. I do not feel safe.” She retorts.
“Ajax tried to eat me too, it took me a while but we were able to become good friends.” She narrows her eyes. First she thinks, Ajax tried to eat Zhongli and the dumb idiot still though, ‘Hmm, yes, this thing is friend shaped.’ Second, she wonders what Zhongli meant by ‘eat’.
“I’ll be home soon, okay. Please try to get along until then.”
———
Guizhong’s dreams were like any other normal person’s dream. Odd, disjointed and incomprehensible. It didn't matter too much though, it wasn’t as if she’d remember them when she woke up anyway.
Although… recently, the little snippets of her dreams that she did remember held a sort of pattern. She’d wake up cold, flashes of white behind her eye lids. It was strange, but Guizhong didn’t think too much of it. Maybe she was thinking so much of the dreaded Tartaglia that Snezhnaya’s frost began to infect her dreams.
Then, one day when she closed her eyes, a scene of crystal floors high ceilings formed, clear as day, before her. She pinched herself, it didn’t hurt. She slapped herself, hard as she could, but didn't wake up. Strange. Very very very strange.
The floor must’ve been made of ice, it was cold to the touch, the chill of the air bit into her bones. Although hail pounded onto the tall glass windows, and her breath turned to ice, but she wasnt freezing to death. A thin sheet of frost was crawling up her skin, but somehow, she didnt feel like dying.
“Finally, I’ve gotten a hold of you.” A voice called out from behind her. It was a playful voice, high and honey sweet. It was cloying, the type of noise that could drown a man.
Guizhong turned to face the owner of the voice. In the centre of the circular room was a winding serpentine statue. In front of that was a man. The great Tartaglia, himself with his wild flaming hair and his dark hollow eyes. A red mask adorned the side of his head, a heavy white cloak hung from his shoulders. Star silver ornaments decorated his broad body and dark streaks of abyssal magic was sewn into his skin.
“Pleasure to meet you, I was Tartaglia, 11 of her majesty’s harbingers.” He stalked closer to her. Each step he too was weighed down, the air got heavier as he approached. His very presence demanded that she kneel. She did not. “Though now, just call me Ajax. I think Zhongli has told you as much.”
“… Is this what Zhongli meant when he said you talked to him?” Guizhong asked, breathless.
“Yeah, pretty cool, huh? It’s called ‘Dreamwalking’.” He grinned. His wide smile forced his eyes closed and somehow, that cleared up the atmosphere a little bit. Guizhong breathed easy again, trying to focus on his words.
“Dreamwalking… That’s an adepti ability…” Zhongli mentioned it once. That’s how Rex Lapis got messages to the Qixing outside the rites of descension. Various adepti were also known to have the ability.
“Mhm!” Ajax agreed, looking incredibly proud, he moved toward the large statue, running a gloved hand along the side of it. He stroked it on it’s head and pressed a reverent kiss to its snout. That’s when Guizhong realised it wasn't some random esoteric winding statue. That was a glossy, ice carved, statue of Rex Lapis. “It took me a hell of a long time to learn as a mortal, but I had a lovely teacher.”
Guizhong’s mouth hung open, unable to come up with anything to say. Ajax looked so pleased with himself, clearly, he had a hobby of fucking with people.
“d… w… didn’t you worship the Tsaritsa?” She spluttered.
“Yeah.” He said nonchalantly, still stroking the dragon.
“Why do have a statue of Rex Lapis??!!”
“Because I carved it?”
“That’s worse???” Didn’t Zhongli mention something about how Tartaglia was outspoken against the other harbingers or something? Was that because he regularly committed treason or something?
“Anyway, I didn’t call you here to talk about Rex Lapis. No, I’m here about Zhongli.” Ajax said, still attached to the dragon.
Guizhong’s eyes regained their defensive edge. “What about him?”
“Zhongli admire you. A lot. So… I wanted to get along with you…” That… was not something Guizhong was expecting. Ajax didn’t quite look like he meant it though, his lips were pursed and he didn’t want to look her in the eyes. Was he being a child?
“I won’t try to eat you anymore…” He continued, downcast, then he faced her head on dead eyes reigniting with a burning vitality. He pointed an accusing finger at her, chest puffed as he heaved out his next few words. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to go down without a fight!”
huh?
“Do you understand that?! Guizhong the wise!” He spat her name out. “I’m gonna be the wise one! The brain! I’m going to win! You got that?!?”
What was this man talking about? Was this the famed madness of Tartaglia?
“Okay man, sure.” Guizhong relented, not exactly sure what she was relenting to, but Ajax, dead or not, was clearly dangerous and she most certainly did not want to stop him or whatever.
Ajax smiled wide. Were they friends now? Guizhong didn’t understand.
When she woke up. She remembered the whole conversation. She did not feel well rested.
———
Zhongli had work. Work that was outside of the house. Every morning he would wake up, get out and go the Qixing Conservation Centre and do, uh, history stuff.
Guizhong worked from home. Ajax could not leave the house. Thus, they were stuck.
While Guizhong was a normal person with a job and responsibilities and things she had to do. Ajax did not. However, he did have a schedule. After Zhongli got up, Ajax would rub himself on Zhongli like an overgrown cats. He’d yip and whine as Zhongli tried to leave the house. Then after Zhongli left, he would sulk and stare at the closed door for a while. Then, he would go into Zhongli’s room (Which is locked, so how????) and lick one or two of his items and then leave. Afterwards, he would go to the couch where Zhongli slept and nap there himself until Guizhong came around to feed him.
Then Zhongli would come home cooked dinner for the three of them and Guizhong would eat dinner in her own room out of fear of getting eaten.
Though, after the ‘talk’ that began to change. Guizhong could actually walk around her own house again. Ajax would not eye her like a literal piece of meat, but he did seem extra possessive of Zhongli’s stuff now, giving them extra licks before he went to his nap spot.
By now, Ajax had been living with them for a few months and Guizhong had pretty much calmed down about his presence. It was like having a big chonky house cat who didn’t move much or eat very much and just… didn’t poop, ever. It was kind of freaky.
When Zhongli first brought Ajax back, things were so hectic that the subject had completely been dropped. But now, Guizhong was ready to hear it.
This time, she was the one who cooked dinner. She prepped the table and followed a recipe online. She didn’t normally cook, Zhongli was much better at it than she was and with his delicate palette, they both decided it was best left to him. That didn’t mean she was incapable of it, but with the way Ajax cringed at her knifing skills, she felt a little conscious.
“Hey, Ajax, can you dream talk to two people at once? I want you to here for this.” Guizhong ask him, just to take the heat out f his gaze. The fox tilted its head.
“Yeah, I know, but I kind of wanted to talk to you both, at the same time.” Guizhong explained. The fox nodded, sinking back into the cushions.
Good. Then everything was set.
“Oh? What’s this?” Zhongli asked. The table was set artfully with some adeptus’ temptation, a steaming teapot set on a tray by the side. Guizhong was sat in one of the chairs which were arranged so that Ajax could sit by the table as well.
“Surprise!” Guizhong giggled, arms spread over the meal, “I wanted to do something nice for us.”
Zhongli nodded, taking a seat. Ajax nuzzling up to him as he did. “Alright, so, what did you need from me?”
Ah, of course Zhongli could guess. He was sharp like that.
“I want to know what happened in Morespok.” She asked, Zhongli agreed swiftly, but that wasn’t the only one who she needed confirmation from. Her eyes slid over to meet Ajax’s, “I want to about everything that happened in Morespok.”
Because as much as Ajax, acted harmless now. Guizhong would be stupid to forget what he was and what he has done. And if Ajax wanted from Zhongli what she thought he did, she needed to know the full story.