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A cold touch kisses his nose as the lone Yaksha stands, spear in hand and surrounded by the corpses that wrought stains upon it. Xiao wrinkles his nose slightly, bringing up his free hand to thumb at the snowflake as it melts, examining the dark spot now upon his fingertip. He looks up.
Soft snow falls silent around him, and for a moment he believes he is only a few decades old again, still shaking off the lingering clutches of his first master. If he closes his eyes, he can almost fool himself into expecting Fushe — the Martial Vritas who acted with just as much electric energy as his vision held — will interrupt his idling, claiming the other Yakshas are waiting for him so they can hold an arbitrary feast. Yet, when his dark lashes flutter back open, the only company he has are shattered shields and tattered clothes of hilichurls at his feet.
Desolation.
The echo of Yingda stands beside him, chanting about roasted food and a good night’s sleep, but Xiao knows it is just a figment of his imagination — for the snow would surely melt in the presence of her warmth. Fanan, Minu, and even the young Yaksha Pervases still trail in his memory, staring up at the falling snow as he does, though not bothering to mask their own wonder at the simple display of serenity. They chatter and banter, they shout and laugh, they nudge him to join in. But when he opens his mouth, they’re already gone.
Loneliness.
Xiao frowns back down at his boots, the black leather now adorned with stark white spots. Since when had everything changed? Even the horizon itself does not maintain a still image for long; Liyue harbour is far larger than the first time he had laid eyes upon it, and the unmoving God of Geo, too, has retired from its landscape. Yet still, snow falls over the world all the same, as cold and sombrely comforting as it was on the days he filled his stomach with it.
Change.
Idly, Xiao recalls the story of the Electro Archon, as recounted to him by the traveller that faced her, how even a God’s will for eternity could not withstand the constant erosion of time. Even her country could not remain as it was whilst under her strict rule, and even she conceded to the whims of change in the end. If the powerful Archon of Eternity herself could not hold onto the ever-distancing past, how could he, a mere Yaksha even try?
The snow builds under his boots, crunching softly as he returns to Wangshu Inn, his thoughts circling forward. That one day time would claim this place, too, and all of the people who have built the memories of its foundation. If given enough time, would not everything in Teyvat become completely unrecognisable?
And yet, selfishly, Xiao wants to hold on, to jam the ticking hands of a clock, to watch the world fall still again. Would he ever be that young, naive adeptus, unaware of the many downfalls his long life was about to take? Could he ever be the wordless Yaksha basking in the presence of his brethren as they laugh the night away? Should he continue to lament the sudden retirement of Rex Lapis himself, when even the people of Liyue Harbour have already moved on? Maybe if he prayed hard enough, time would slow down, just a little, and let him catch his breath, let him look up and watch the snow fall.
He pauses at a familiar pair of boots, similar to his own and yet so entirely different; just as the man before him is so foreign in the very way he speaks, yet remains a most familiar sight upon Xiao’s tired eyes. The traveller — Aether — smiles at the sight of him easily, his expression only faltering when he inevitably makes out the melancholy that paints Xiao’s features. Still, he nods politely.
Aether, too, would one day leave.
That is what it means to be a traveller, after all, especially one that traverses the stars as easily as a boat does a lake. He is merely a witness to Teyvat’s unfolding story, tangled in it from the moment of his arrival yet still so distant from the people he’s found himself in knots with. One has to wonder — does he not feel lonely?
Aether slowly lifts a hand to his hair, brushing out the snow that has accumulated atop it, and letting his fingers linger behind Xiao’s ear.
“If you were able, would you revert time itself?”
Aether blinks at the sudden question, a short laugh escaping his lips a moment later. The sound is sweet, and comforting, as per usual, as is the following hum as he ponders an answer. “Hm, it’s tempting but…”
“…You would not?”
Aether nods. “It’s easy to look back at all the things that have gone wrong, to wish I could change what I did, and maybe with a second chance, I could save her.” He sighs, curling his hand slowly forward to cup Xiao’s cheek. “If all had gone to plan, and I left this world with Lumine at that moment… I never would have met you, would I?”
Xiao shuts his eyes at the remark, turning his face into Aether’s hand to hide the flush that taints his cheeks. He would just blame it on the cold, anyway. “Is that truly the only reason?”
Aether laughs again, longer and softer. “No, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. It’s hard to think of anything else when I stare at such a pretty face,” he teases, pinching Xiao’s cheek softly as his frown deepens. He sighs, his tone turning more serious. “If I could reverse time, or alter it at all, I simply wouldn’t. It would be all too easy to get wrapped up in every single regret, to dwell on all the what-ifs that could possibly happen, but… does that not render all that is special and everything I cherish completely null?”
Xiao hums, his brows furrowing in quiet contemplation. Aether’s hand softly trails down from his cheek, tracing a crooked path across Xiao’s arm and down into his hand as he takes gloved fingers between his own, examining the lingering dampness of melted snowdrops.
“I am a witness,” Aether states quietly, “but that does not mean I exist merely to relive events. If that were the case then surely I would just listen to a storyteller recount them to me instead, endlessly for the rest of my life, but what kind of life would that be?”
“Your hypothetical life does sound rather… dull.”
Aether smiles, dragging him a little closer. “Personally, I think the point of living is to experience things yourself — that’s simply not possible if you’re always wrapped up in the past. Were not your memories once present moments? How can we ever hope to make more if we dwell only on what has already passed?”
Again, Xiao hums, staring at their hands as Aether takes both of his within his own. “I suppose… you have a point,” he sighs.
Aether nudges their foreheads together, bumping him softly. “That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to reminisce sometimes, I only mean to say… you’re also allowed to stop and smell the flowers on your way, too.”
Xiao kisses him briefly, then steps away. Their fingers remain linked all the same. “You are quite wise on this matter,” he comments, staring at the snowflakes that lazily drift past. “I almost suspect you could read my mind — I merely asked a simple question.”
“I was asked something quite similar recently, so I guess I already had a lot of thoughts on the matter.” Aether shifts to stand next to him, tugging him gently into a leisurely pace the rest of the way to Wangshu Inn. The smell of Smiley Yanxiao’s cooking wafts off the various dishes delivered to the ground level of the Inn, accompanied by the sound of various couples and work groups chatting the late morning away.
When Xiao turns to look at Aether after a comforting squeeze to his hand, he finds him smiling.
“Anyway, are you free? It’s lunch time, you know, and I’m hungry.”
Xiao smiles, too, squeezing him back. “I suppose I can make some time for your appetite.”
Content.