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He didnt didnt see that coming. He’d known that it was bound to happen one day or another, no one was truly immortal even if they claimed to be so. Corrosion would erode old stone, rivers would dry out, the wind would change ways, the storm would pass, the ice would melt, lush rainforest would turn to barren lands and the fire would extinguish.
But it still caught him by surprise. Cloud Retainer had called an urgent adepti meeting. It was about the declining health of their lord.
They all rushed to his adeptal realm hoping to catch a last glimpse of their dear archon before he would finally get the rest he so deserved after serving for so many millennia. But seeing his lord, his master, his archon, his father, sick and weak, unable to even get up to greet them made his stomach churn. He never anticipated he’d witness this moment. He’d always thought the karmic debt would reap his life long before the other would fall.
But looking at him now he couldn’t deny the fact as much as he wished this was a dream.
“Xiao” said his lord in a low voice, once the other adepti had left. “Come here, please.” Without thinking he moved to sit next to the dying man. “Lay down.”
Laying down at the side of him, his father lord pulled him into his side. Under any other circumstances he would have protested, moved away even, but now he all but cuddled closer to him. Knowing that he may never feel such kind touch, that no one will ever look at him with the pride and love his archon oh so clearly possessed towards him but never expressed in fear of rejection from the young yaksha.
“I’m sorry, Alatus. I promised that I'd be here with you yet here I am on the brink of leaving you alone. I hope that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me one day.” He said, stoking the blue hair of his loyal child, who just buried deeper into his chest.
“No” He croaked out, the man of geo giving him a questioning look. “I could never blame you for this,” he said, receiving a small smile.
“I’m glad. I’m sorry Xiao. I hope you’ll live a long life, without much more grief. Please, don't mourn me all your life. Live. Have fun. Explore. You’ve served Liyue for long enough.” He says while he gently strokes his back, eyes welling up with tears, tears that he holds back for the sake of him.
“I’ll try my lord.'' With that they fall in silence, the tiredness of a day of fighting taking its toll, letting the yaksha fall asleep for one last time in the lap of his most important person in his life.
The next morning he’ll wake up, but only him. His lord would have gone long ago cold, having passed in peace. He’d then get up, cover him to protect the good image of the noble soul that took care of him for so many years before going out to the adepti to announce the official passing.
They would gather later, on the tallest mountain in Liyue, the descendant of Hu tao having prepared the rite of parting in advance. They would sit around the altar, one too bare and humble to represent the vast influence and prestige of him but he’d insisted on using this. After retiring from his position as the archon of Liyue he never indulged in anything too fancy and he’d wished that his funeral would be like that also.
The only ones present were those close to him. The few remaining adepti, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing and the funeral director, the current, too young to be burdened with the death, descendant of Hu Tao, they all would sing praises, express their sorrows but not one dared to shed tears. They all knew how hard this would be for them but they also knew that they still wanted their lord to be given a happy farewell. As such after they set him down in his forever resting place, buried close to Azhdaha and Guizhong, in a plain that later will be known as the great cemetery of the gods as many others will be buried there, all wishing to still be close if not it spirit then in body to their great lord that they’d served for many millennia, who saved them from great peril.
Xiao would mourn, in fits of grief he’d kill endlessly until there would be no trace of monsters in all of Liyue. He’d spend many nights curled up, all bloodied, on the gravestone that would keep the memory of him alive for just a few more centuries. Some days he;d remember what his lord told him, that he shouldn’t mourn too long and he’d feel guilty for not following his last orders.
Decades later he’d feel ready to explore, to finally try and fulfill his last order, the weight of the grief still sitting on his shoulders like a constant reminder of his uselessness when in the face of time. He’d visit Inazuma, meeting the Kamisatos, he’d go to Mopndstadt and share a cup of wine with the local bard, he’d go to Sumeru to be greeted by a sassy white haired fox, he’d meet the purple haired kid that led Spina di rosula and cute melusines.
He’d never truly heal. The karmic debt will eventually consume him too. The day he will have already fulfilled his last orders, he would have left behind a young strong adepti to care for his duties, he would die in peace, in a land of green. Greenness that would never overtake the gray of four gravestones, two would radiate with the power of geo, one of anemo and one of a forgotten power, of the dust.
Days later the new generation of Adepti would hold a rite of parting towards him. They would paint the picture of a lonely yaksha, one that often acted as their older brother that faced many, too many, trials.