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Zhongli remembered the early days when Xiao first came to his camp. Having just been rescued from an abusive master, Xiao was understandably wary of everyone. He kept to himself, and it wasn’t until centuries later that he finally built some trust with the other adepti. He always showed gratitude towards Morax though. Save for a very brief period at the start of Xiao’s service, he seemed to be unafraid of his new master. Zhongli thought about this years later and figured it was the transparent objectivity of the contract between them which dispelled Xiao’s fears. All that would be asked of the yaksha was clearly outlined in that contract, and seeing how much Morax revered the concept of the contract itself — Xiao did not have to fear Morax breaking his own word.
Xiao kept away from the others for a long time, but he was uncharacteristically trusting towards Rex Lapis. So when the god approached him in the military camp one evening, Xiao did not immediately disappear in a burst of anemo.
The yaksha was sitting at the edge of an overlook. They were high above sea-level, and from this height there was a grand view of Liyue afforded to them. Ugly as the war between the gods was, Liyue herself was still as beautiful as ever. Rex Lapis had noticed a pattern in Xiao’s behavior. So long as there was nothing to do in the evening, Xiao would find a place to sit outside while the others were eating dinner. Away from the noise and company of everyone else, the yaksha would simply stare across the landscape towards the northwest. He could spend an entire night doing just that, sitting in the bough of a tree with his spear resting in his arms... Xiao seemed to enjoy watching the sunset when he had time to. But even after the sun had long since disappeared, that spot on the horizon still seemed to interest him... and Rex Lapis could not understand why.
“Forgive me for intruding,” the god stated on this evening, feeling genuinely a bit sorry for disturbing the yaksha. Xiao was an excellent soldier who always acted selflessly in battle. He deserved every moment of rest afforded to him. But Xiao simply shook his head as he landed on the ground, having hopped off his perch in a nearby sandalwood. He dropped immediately into a kneel and Rex Lapis waved aside his courtesy, beckoning him up with a hand on his arm.
“Are you not hungry?” Rex Lapis asked him curiously, looking down at Xiao with a tilt of his head. It was curious how small Xiao was. The god had to tilt his head down quite a bit to meet his gaze... it was true that the adepti were able to choose their physical forms to a large extent, but their forms were also a reflection of their inner selves — their immutable souls. One could simply tell from looking at Xiao that he must have the purest and most lovely soul imaginable.
When Xiao seemed uncertain about how to answer his question, Rex Lapis said, “As adepti, we do not need to eat. Yet some take pleasure in it all the same. I take it you are not one of those beings?”
Xiao shook his head and the god chuckled. Bare feet upon the ground, Rex Lapis went to the edge of the overlook where they stood. He felt Xiao following silently at his side. They stared out into the landscape for many minutes, neither saying a word. Finally, Rex Lapis said, “I cannot understand what is so interesting about this spot on the horizon that it commands your attention every evening.” He looked down at Xiao to see the yaksha looking up at him with luminous golden eyes that reflected the moon. “I have seen you out here every night, looking in the same direction each time. May I know why you do this?”
“Of course, my lord...” Xiao’s gaze fell from the god’s face, securing itself to that spot in the landscape once again. “That is the direction of my home.”
Rex Lapis felt his eyebrows raise unconsciously. The answer was a surprise. “Really...”
The wind blew in the direction they were looking. Xiao tucked some loose strands of his teal hair behind his ears, trying to tame them. “Even by an immortal’s standards... it has been a long time since I left home.” Rex Lapis stiffened when he heard that, the way Xiao spoke of his kidnapping as if it had been voluntary. “I was very young when I left, but I think I still remember the way back... no, I am certain that I do. It’s as if something pulls me there, from here.”
Xiao pressed a hand to his chest and it made Morax lower his eyes, pensive. “I suppose it is not surprising that I remember... it is common for those of my kind to migrate...” Xiao continued.
Birds... mankind was still a mystery to Rex Lapis, yet he was already quite well-read in their literature. He knew of how humans revered birds for their admirable qualities — the way they symbolized freedom, the beauty in their songs and feathers, and for how devoted and affectionate they were towards the ones they loved... the god was beginning to understand that mortals had their own wisdom and insight about this world around them.
Rex Lapis looked at Xiao, who continued to gaze in the direction of his home. He wanted to ask Xiao if he had any memories of that place. Yet even with how impeccable the god’s own memory was, he had few from those early days of his existence. It was likely that Xiao could not remember anything about that faraway land, yet it did not stop his eyes from being filled with longing when he spoke of it.
Rex Lapis could not understand the yaksha. He had never felt the desire to return to the location of his own birth. But perhaps it was different when one left their birthplace voluntarily, versus being forcibly ripped away from it.
“Would you like to go back?” Rex Lapis asked quietly, gazing down at Xiao. The yaksha shook his head immediately, not a single second of hesitation.
“So long as a contract exists between us, my lord, I will continue to stay in Liyue. Though I do not understand the abstract concept of the contract in detail, so it is impossible for me to revere it as you do. Even so, at this time there is nothing more important to me than upholding the agreement between us.” The sharp look in Xiao’s eyes softened, as if he was not looking at the scenery but inward at the thoughts in his mind. “Back then, you offered me a choice to forge a contract with you. And I accepted, knowing that it would bind me for the rest of my life. Even if I cannot ever leave your side, I will be content.”
This creature who had miraculously come into his care — Rex Lapis believed that Xiao deserved the best of everything. He did not deserve the misery which had plagued the majority of his life thus far, nor did he deserve to be chained to anyone’s side, benevolent master or not. Birds were not meant to be caged and restricted, but free and full of life. Yet on that night, the god discovered a selfish sliver of himself which desired Xiao to stay tethered to him, despite how wrong it seemed.
Dragons were not like birds, after all. Related though they were, dragons were greedy.
But he was not an enlightened being for nothing. Morality was able to prevail over his instinct, difficult as it was. “Maybe one day you will get the chance to go home,” Rex Lapis offered.
Xiao immediately paled at these words, and the god had to stifle the urge to lean down and get close, ask him if he was alright. “Please don’t say such things, my lord...” Xiao closed his eyes. “Please do not talk of your own...”
“My what?” Rex Lapis realized belatedly that he had gotten closer to Xiao anyway. The yaksha must have sensed his proximity because his eyes shot open and he looked up, wearing a pained expression.
“I did not mean to issue your lordship a command...” Xiao said in a small voice that faded at the end.
“I am not angry about that,” Morax said bluntly. “But I want you to speak clearly.”
Xiao avoided his gaze by looking down and to the side. He bit his lip and Rex Lapis stared at the ivory canine which pierced the rosy flesh. “It’s difficult to hear you speak of your own passing...”
Indeed, there were only two circumstances which would annul the contract between him and Xiao. One was if, by some miracle, Liyue no longer needed Xiao’s protection. The other was upon the god’s death. The first was impossible to imagine, given the world they lived in. So by elimination...
“Does the idea bother you so much?” Rex Lapis asked, fascinated. “Why?”
“...”
Patient as the element he commanded, Morax weathered the silence until Xiao gave him the answer he desired.
“Because you were the first person to ever show me kindness,” the yaksha finally admitted. “It may have been a trifle to your lordship, but on the day you saved me, you granted me a mercy which I can never forget.” Xiao's gaze, which had been downcast, now bravely raised to show Rex Lapis the sincerity of his words. “It is only right that I devote myself to serving you hereafter, with my whole body and soul.”
Two millennia later, Zhongli recalled these words as he stood upon one of Jueyun Karst's numerous peaks. True to the region's name, each peak stood out like an island amongst a sea of clouds. He had been to this beautiful part of Liyue more times than he could recount. Yet there was something novel about it today. It was not the golden blood of a divine vessel which ran through his veins, but for the first time, the scarlet lifeblood of mortals.
Rex Lapis was dead, and with him, Xiao's contract.
All those years ago, when Xiao had thought of the death of his master... Zhongli could not forget the forlorn expression on the yaksha's face during that conversation. And that was how Zhongli had known that Xiao was true to him — the sincerest of his most devoted.
Yet when this hypothetical actually became reality, the events played out in a rather unexpected way. Zhongli turned to cast a quiet look at the one standing beside him.
Xiao had never looked so light, so unburdened. Even the karma which tormented him consistently throughout the years could be detected on his body only faintly. Xiao's skin had a healthy glow, radiating with the blessing that the sun cast upon him. His hair blew freely in the cold, sharp wind of the mountains, and the corners of his lips were upturned just slightly. He was not looking at Zhongli, but northwest. Always that same spot on the horizon.
Zhongli could not help but feel jealous of anything, tangible or not, that could command so much of Xiao's attention for so long. Yet he could also not deny how right it felt to see Xiao look this way... with his servitude, the yaksha had paid a million times over, for crimes which had never really been his in the first place. Perhaps Zhongli was as guilty as Xiao's old master, for caging something which wore freedom so beautifully.
Liyue had needed Xiao, it was true. But perhaps it could have done without him sooner. Perhaps there had been another reason why Zhongli had kept him around. Kept him selfishly tethered to his wrist, like a loyal and trained raptor, until there was no choice but to finally let him go.
Zhongli sighed with regret. No matter how long he lived, goodbyes never hurt any less — and this one was particularly painful.
Hearing his exhale, Xiao turned to him. The yaksha's golden eyes were sparkling with daylight. Zhongli felt the corners of his own mouth turning up. He could not feel truly upset, not when this person who meant so much to him looked so happy.
“To think this day has actually come,” Zhongli said with his eyebrows raised.
Xiao smiled at Zhongli, unrestrained.
Unconsciously, Zhongli couldn't help but look for the differences in this Xiao compared to the one who had spoken to him on that evening ages ago. And in a rare moment of self-consciousness, Zhongli wondered if some differences were apparent in himself as well.
“Do you still remember the way back?”
Xiao nodded slowly. “I think so.”
“Something pulls you there, right?” Zhongli smiled.
Xiao startled, looking up at him with an awed expression. “You remember that, my lord?”
“I have a good memory,” Zhongli reassured him modestly.
“That’s right... though the feeling is no longer as strong as it used to be, it has not disappeared.” Xiao hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure I am no longer needed here?”
“Liyue will always welcome you,” Zhongli said seriously. “But I would not have killed Rex Lapis if I had a single doubt about the humans who have taken over. This country will be fine without you — and without me too.”
Zhongli watched Xiao’s expression carefully, feeling that this statement might affect Xiao with its bluntness. Yet Xiao seemed even lighter than before, reassured that he was departing from Liyue without leaving any strings untied.
“Xiao?” Zhongli called selfishly. He watched as the yaksha once again turned the full focus of his golden-eyed attention onto the former god. Zhongli felt an immature sense of loss. Xiao had not left yet, but Zhongli already missed the way he always answered with such earnestness and honesty. Xiao had never given Zhongli anything less than his all — everything he had, Xiao had offered it to the one he answered to. How could Zhongli not have fallen in love with such a being?
“Yes, my lord?”
“What do you think you will find once you get there?”
Xiao lowered his eyes. Sunlight filtered through his teal lashes, making them shine. The apples of his cheeks were rosy with emotion. As his mouth opened to reply, Zhongli felt the desire to sweep him up into his arms and run his tongue between Xiao’s lips. He steeled himself against the impulse.
“I think it will not have changed much,” Xiao replied. “Time flows slowly at the edge of the world.”
Zhongli rallied his courage and asked the question that had been on his mind since abdicating the celestial throne. “Is there someone waiting for you there?”
Xiao’s eyes found his immediately, surprise written all over his face. “Though time flows more slowly there, it has been a long age regardless. I do not expect to be greeted upon my return.”
Zhongli couldn’t help but frown at the mental image this made. His bird, returning to a quiet, empty landscape. His heart ached uncomfortably in his chest.
Then, what do you think about returning to Liyue afterwards?
“Actually, my lord...” Xiao paused, as if having to pull each word from somewhere far away. “I was wondering if you meant it, when you said...” He took a breath. “‘Liyue will always welcome you.’”
Zhongli stared at him, heart beating loudly under his ribs. “You know my word is bond.”
Xiao swallowed and nodded minutely. Then he said in a quiet voice, “Perhaps when I am finished, I can come back here to resume my duties.”
At this, Zhongli could no longer stand it. He swept Xiao’s slight figure into his arms, embracing him as tightly as he dared. If he used as much strength as he truly desired, he was afraid he would crush Xiao’s bones.
“You do not have to do anything, nor promise anything. Just come back when you’re ready. I couldn’t bear it if I never saw you again, Xiao.”
Zhongli said this in a muted voice against Xiao’s ear. And the yaksha trembled against him, warm saltwater splashed against the lapels of Zhongli’s coat. When Zhongli pulled back, he ran his gloved thumb under Xiao’s eyes, drying his tears.
“Then I will be back,” Xiao murmured, touching his forehead against Zhongli’s.
“Then let the contract be made,” Zhongli said warmly. “Anyone who breaks the contract shall be punished by eating rocks.”
Xiao closed his eyes for a few breaths before stepping back. Zhongli clasped his wrists behind his back, watching as Xiao transformed before his eyes. This was a transformation which he had not seen for millennia, yet the splendor of it took his breath away each time.
Xiao trilled his arcane song at the human who stood on the mountaintop. Mortals did not come to Jueyun Karst, but this was no ordinary human. With his preternatural eyesight, Zhongli watched as Xiao flew towards that point on the horizon, growing smaller and smaller until he became one with it.
Only then did the human turn around and return home.