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In the dingy depths of a run-down tavern, Beidou takes a swig of her tenth ale and slams the mug on the moist table. The smell of brackish water mixes with the stench of body odour, a potent combination that smothers even the ale in her hands.
Ningguang would not be caught dead here.
Ningguang isn’t here.
“Enough,” Beidou mumbles to no one in particular, and takes another gulp. She is vaguely aware that her crew has left Lumidouce Harbour on her orders, and that she hasn’t left the Rusty Rudder in about a day or two. The Crux Fleet will be back for her in a month after completing their jobs. That is the deal.
She can’t face the sea anymore. Archons, she can barely face herself. She has always been a woman of action, a fearless pirate, the Uncrowned Lord of the Ocean, the one who tamed the seas. But when Ningguang died—
Everything lost its shine. Only here, in the dimly-lit tavern for the castaways and the unlucky, can she glimpse the faintest colour in her world.
A glimmer of white. A flicker of gold. A soft, breathy chuckle.
A head of blue, sliding into the empty seat opposite.
Beidou barks out a laugh, drunkenly pointing at the blue blob. “There’s… a sight I haven’t seen in years. Blue, huh. I’m fucking drunk.”
“You are,” comes the disapproving reply, “It takes me a month to find you, and… Archons, how much did you drink?”
“Not enough.” It is never enough. She has tried to drown herself in the ocean, at work, in beer. She is still drowning, and perhaps she will always be.
The blue blob scoffs. “Unbelievable.”
Beidou squints. What is this irritatingly blue creature, and why does it talk?
“Snap out of it!” The blue blob slaps her, hard.
The Captain reels back in shock, heat blossoming across her cheek. The stinging sensation brings with it a sharp sense of clarity, and she growls at the woman opposite. She should have known it would be one of those damn Liyue spies that would find her. The only one who could find her, really. One of their best.
One of Ningguang’s own.
“What do you want… Yelan?” Beidou growls. “I told you I’ll have nothing to do with the Qixing and their bullshit. Ningguang was the last thing holding me there and she’s gone.”
Yelan sits. “Ningguang is precisely why I am here.”
Don’t you dare speak her name. The sun set in her world that day, never to rise again.
“Hah!” Beidou shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re still using her name as a fucking excuse to talk to me after all this time.”
“It’s not an excuse,” Yelan snaps, “I need to talk to you about her. About her… murder.”
Murder.
That was not the tale the Qixing had spun at Ningguang’s funeral procession, in the eulogies they sang. “Only took you two years to believe Ningguang would never take her own life, huh?” Beidou hisses, shoving the mug aside and staggering to her feet. “Well, it doesn’t fucking matter now. She died, and finding her murderer won’t bring her back.”
Yelan is as motionless as a rock. “You have every right to walk away, I know. I only ask that you hear me out, Beidou.”
How many times has she done that? Hear out a person, listen to their lies? Chasing down every rumour that gave her even a sliver of hope that Ningguang was alive? With Ningguang, all the words she’d ever known were cling and hold and clutch. She grasped at every rumour like a lifeline, until the whispers died and Ningguang faded into the doldrums of memory.
But not her, not Beidou. In her memory, there she remains. In her memory, she writes their love into the stars.
So Beidou sits. “This better be worth my time.”
Yelan draws a deep breath. “What if she’s still alive, Beidou?”
She’s heard that one before. “Bullshit.” If she is… why didn’t she tell me?
The spy fidgets in her seat. Beidou isn’t sure she’s ever seen Yelan this unnerved before. Even when she was investigating Ningguang’s death, she had been a stoic figure, driven solely by logic and the desire for truth. “I think you’re right, Beidou,” Yelan whispers, “I think she survived.”
Slowly, Beidou shrinks further back into her chair.
I think she survived.
Why now? After two years… why now? “I saw the body, Yelan. Don’t fuck with me. She’s dead. Leave me alone.” Let me grieve.
The spy leans forward, and there’s something in her turquoise eyes that gives Beidou pause. Pure, unbridled rage. And beneath that— an earnest, genuine plea. Listen to me. If it’s the last thing you ever do, listen to me this once.
And if there is, perhaps, the faintest chance that dawn might break in her world again—
Beidou gestures at her to speak.
“Captain,” Yelan begins, and Beidou flinches at the title she barely deserves, “You said so yourself when you saw the report, saw her body. You raised hell at her funeral, claimed she was murdered, that she’d never take her own life. You just said that five minutes ago. And now you tell me you believe she’s dead?”
“Murder, suicide, it’s just the method of death, Yelan. She’s dead.” Beidou tries her best, but she still can’t stop her voice from breaking. She gulps down the rest of her ale desperately. Archons damnit. She wants to punch Yelan, drag her out by the scuff of her jacket to beat the shit out of her. How dare she. How dare Yelan, who did not stand by her side when she first said Ningguang was murdered, find her now, two years later? How dare she simply walk into Beidou’s colourless world and splash it with colour once again?
How dare she give her the worst gift of all— how dare she give her hope?
Yelan places a curled fist on the table. She slides something across, and Beidou catches it instinctively. The shape is solid; familiar. She recognises it solely by touch. Its curved surface, the polished rims, the fine tassel attached to its end— she uncurls her fingers to reveal a Geo Vision.
A glowing Geo Vision.
Ningguang’s Geo Vision.
Its golden light is faint, but it is pulsing like a heartbeat, faint and slow. Shakily, Beidou removes one glove and places her palm on it. It’s warm.
It was cold and dead on Ningguang’s midriff when Beidou last laid hands on it.
The Captain lifts her head to meet Yelan’s gaze. She raises her other hand, beckoning a waiter over. “Get me some water,” she says without looking away. She snatches the jug as soon as it arrives and finishes half to sober up.
Yelan waits for her to set the jug down.
“How?” Beidou finally croaks. “When I saw her, when I read the report…”
The Tianquan drank poison that night and took her life. Even now, she can’t quite believe those words. Ningguang would never entertain the thought, let alone purchase poison and keep the bottle in her study on a display shelf, right in plain sight. Ningguang’s mind works in incalculable ways, like the flit of a bird from branch to branch. Beidou would swear upon her life that the Tianquan would never show her hand like this.
And if she did want to die— she’d make it worthwhile. Not like this. Not quietly and swiftly in the dark of night.
No one believed her then. Not even at Ningguang’s funeral.
But it seems that Yelan did.
“She was taken away,” the spy said, “The body we found was… a decoy. A very well-crafted one, I must say. The body, and the Vision— everything was recreated to perfection.”
Her lifeless corpse, that cold Vision on her midriff. The bouquets of glaze lilies lining the hall.
Beidou wrenches her thoughts back to the present. “The Vision was false? Then where did you find this?”
“Her real Vision? It was locked in a safe. In the control room of the Jade Chamber.”
The Jade Chamber. It still floats above Liyue Harbour today, though devoid of life. No one had the heart to bring it down— nor did they know how to. Ningguang’s secretaries faithfully maintained the place out of honour, leaving her belongings untouched. Beidou herself had been there several times after the funeral, but each time… it was surreal. Nothing had changed. The secretaries touched nothing, not even the last report left on Ningguang’s desk before she retired to bed. A report on Fatui activity in Mondstadt, Beidou remembers. It had felt as if Ningguang had simply stepped out for fresh air, that she might walk back into the office at any moment. The entire Jade Chamber, frozen in time, high above Liyue Harbour.
“Is it still like that?” Beidou asks quietly, “The Jade Chamber. Just like she left it back then?”
As silent as my heart has been?
Yelan’s voice is impossibly gentle when she replies, “Yes. Just like she left it.”
Beidou nods, a lump slowly forming in her throat. At least, in this world that has cruelly forgotten her… a memory of her life remains, undefiled by time. Then she asks, “You… you went back to search?”
“Every chance I got. Some part of me… believed you.”
Ningguang would never do this! She would never, do you fucking hear me? She loved life—
She loved me.
“And you didn’t tell me?” Beidou mutters.
Yelan shakes her head. “If it was the work of an enemy, the last thing Ningguang would ever want is to put you in danger. I let you go. But I never intended to give up.”
And here Beidou is. Giving up on her vehement claims, refusing to set foot in Liyue Harbour for more than a day or two at one time. Tucking her tail between her legs and running far, far away with the entire fleet.
But it had hurt so much, like a thousand blades piercing her ribs. All she found dear had become cruel blades pricking her skin. The familiar cobblestones of Liyue Harbour. The crisp scent of the glaze lilies dotting Yujing Terrace. Their secret plaustrite elevator, tucked away in an alcove where the Alcor would dock.
She would see the Jade Chamber emerge on the horizon and she would be struck with the chilling reminder that her north star was lost. What is the point of looking to the stars if they can no longer guide her home?
And soon, she barely returned at all.
No, no. She can’t think like this. “Ningguang… she locked her Vision away?”
“Someone did, if it isn’t her.”
“How’d you figure out the password?”
Yelan’s lips twitched upwards in a slight smile. “It’s not difficult to guess, once you know who she truly loved. It was a secret in and of itself.”
“She wouldn’t have used my name. She’s not a fool.”
“Yet the password had been in plain sight all along. Written on a gift for her from the one she loved the most, a vase displayed prominently on her shelf.”
—From The Crux.
Of course. The password must have been the name of her fleet. It was the very first time Beidou had seen Ningguang’s brow twitch in annoyance when she read the message scrawled all over that porcelain vase, and the memory brings a slight smile to her face. Perhaps Ningguang remembered, too.
Still— “If she’s alive, why didn’t she… look for you? For me?”
“Perhaps she couldn’t.”
Beidou does not want to think about why. Two years. If Ningguang had been alive all this time and couldn’t reach them; if Beidou had only fervently searched for her even after the funeral ended, then… no. She has a chance to set things right.
“What do you want me to do?”
Yelan unfurls a map, spreading it across the table. “I’ve been investigating all possible leads while you were trying to kill yourself with alcohol. Unfortunately, the Qixing has finally gotten wind of my little projects. I have to stand down, but you… you can take over.” She points to an inky route drawn across the mountainous landscape of Liyue and into the cliffs of Mondstadt. “Find her, Beidou. She’s close.”
Beidou downs the rest of the jug, shaking her head violently to clear the last of her drunken stupor. Find her. Find Ningguang.
She’s alive.
“After I find her,” Beidou says slowly, gathering the map in her hands and cradling it like a treasure, “What then? What should I do?”
Yelan rises, offering her a faint smile. “You take her with you, Beidou, and you live.”
There is only one person in Mondstadt Beidou can trust with this secret, and that is the often-shunned captain of the Reconnaissance army. She had met Eula on a stopover at Dornman Port years ago, where the Spindrift Knight had watched, stunned, as a very drunk Beidou broke up several fights in the tavern without breaking a sweat. Since then, they became fast friends. Enough that they’d write to each other.
Beidou hasn’t written a letter to her since Ningguang died.
She isn’t surprised when Eula goes through the entire five stages of grief upon seeing the Captain at her doorstep in several heartbeats. When Beidou offers her a weak smile, Eula steps aside and beckons her in. The Spindrift Knight’s lodgings are modest; she has long given up on her aristocratic roots, having severed her ties to the Lawrence clan.
Beidou has always respected her for that. For proudly upholding her own values even as the rest of Mondstadt spat in her face. When the people of Downriver did that to Beidou, she had simply fled like a coward. Eula often tells her it’s like comparing sunsettias to apples, and Beidou doesn’t quite understand why.
“You’re alive,” Eula says when Beidou settles on a chair, “I didn’t hear from you for two years. And then the fleet arrived without you. I thought…”
“I’m sorry,” Beidou says uselessly.
“You do know I will remember this, won’t you?”
Beidou nods.
“And I will exact my vengeance upon you for this indignity.”
Beidou nods again, weakly. “I won’t protest.”
Eula studies her silently. Beidou stares at the floorboards, suddenly feeling like a hilichurl trapped in a cage with a curious professor. “Hmm,” the noble lady murmurs, “You have been through unspeakable sorrow.”
“What? I’ve just been drinking.” Beidou barks out a hollow laugh.
“For a reason.” Eula pulls out a chair and sits next to her. “Just as you knock on my door for a reason. What do you need?”
The Captain sighs and draws a shaky breath, pulling out Yelan’s map. “I… I’m sorry I only come by when I need help. But you’re the only one I can trust with this.” She points at the inky route drawn across the map, guiding Eula’s gaze. “There’s this f-friend… friend of mine.”
“That friend? The one you wanted to buy a sleeping potion for long ago?”
“Archons,” Beidou groans, “Why do you remember that?!”
“It certainly struck me as odd.” Eula shakes her head. “Anyway, what about that friend?”
“She’s been… well, missing. But I believe she’s… she’s here.” Beidou points at an area washed out with white on the map. “Dragonspine.”
Eula’s eyes narrow. “That is a harsh environment to be lost in. Is she alone?”
“Not necessarily.”
Eula’s eyes widen.
“That’s why I’d like you to… go with me.” Beidou’s shoulders sag. “I don’t expect you to fight, but at least… you can watch my back.”
Eula presses her lips together, reading the notes hastily scrawled along the map. Descriptions of runes, landmarks and more— Beidou read them all on the way to Mondstadt, but she isn’t sure what to make of Yelan’s hurried scribbles. At some point, Eula begins tracing words with a finger, brow furrowing thoughtfully.
“Eula?” Beidou probes.
“I know these signs.” She crosses her arms. “I will need to make some preparations before we leave.”
“Will you tell me?” Beidou demands.
Eula frowns. “No… not yet. I’m not completely certain of my conclusions; we must see for ourselves when we get there. In the meantime, I suggest you get some rest, Beidou. We set out at dawn.”
And though Beidou lies on the most comfortable bed she’s had in a year, the nightmares haunt her dreams, and she cannot sleep.
At dawn, Beidou and Eula set off. The trip to Dragonspine’s base camp is uneventful; Eula is a quiet person, and for once, Beidou appreciates this comfortable silence. The Spindrift Knight does not probe, and leaves Beidou to brood. Occasionally, Eula consults the map, making dizzying turns amidst the bitterly cold slopes.
Despite the warm layers of fur Beidou wears, winter still seeps into her very bones. Eula is right: this environment is harsh. It’s hard to believe Ningguang can survive a week in such merciless weather, let alone two years. Regardless, Eula has a destination in mind, and Beidou clambers after her, realising just how much damage two years of drinking has done to her body— she is wheezing by the time they slide down a gentle slope into a snow-covered valley.
Here, Beidou pauses to stare at the gleaming arches framing the sun. “These aren’t natural.”
“They are the ribs of Durin,” Eula explains, “He was a gentle dragon; he yearned only to befriend the people of Mondstadt… but he was cursed with toxic blood. He was slain by one of the four winds, and his body fell into this valley, where he has remained since.”
“Ah.” Somehow, it feels as though every story in Teyvat has a terrible ending.
She leads Beidou down the valley, ducking in between the towering bone arches and into a tiny cave. The deeper they venture, the warmer it feels, until the snow has all but melted into dirty puddles and Beidou is sorely tempted to shed her fur coat. She keeps it on, however, when she sees a tinge of red across the cave walls.
The colour of blood grows brighter and stronger with every step they take.
“Eula?” Beidou croaks. Something is wrong. This cave pulses with evil, its red glow suffocating, like a noxious fume. And there is something else: a low hum that she can hear. A soft, steady series of thumps, like the beating of a heart.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Eula presses forward, suddenly stopping with a gasp. Beidou comes to a halt behind her, staring at an oval object in the middle.
Ba-dump.
Red veins stretch out from the pulsing core encased in stone, crawling over every cave wall. And amidst the web of tendrils, Beidou spots a toe, and then a thigh, and then a body and a head— wrapped intricately in the tendrils’ embrace.
Beidou would recognise that silvery hair anywhere; she would recognise it from a thousand miles away.
Ningguang’s lifeless body hangs above the core, cradled by red veins. Beidou immediately steps forward, drawn to her like a magnet, until Eula suddenly grabs her by the shoulder. “Stop!”
She spins around with a growl, swatting Eula’s hand. “She’s here! I have to free her—”
“Not like this! You step too close, Durin’s heart will take you too,” Eula snaps, drawing her claymore and sprinting past Beidou.
The Captain turns to see a rush of red veins hurtling towards her. Eula expertly swings her blade, shattering them with an icy blade. More veins sprout from the crimson ground, rapidly building a wall between Durin’s heart and their blades. Biting back her words, Beidou draws her own claymore, following the Spindrift Knight’s lead. Together, they hack and slash their way through the vein-wall until the pulsing core emerges right before their eyes.
Beidou freezes for a moment, staring deep into its eerie light. And then— a horrible sensation starts to build behind her eyeballs, like maggots worming into her eyes and crawling into her brain. The pressure mounts; more and more worms seem to slide into her eye sockets, until— “Aagh—”
“Beidou! Do not look at it!”
Something blunt smacks Beidou in the chest. She falls onto the floor, groaning and clutching her head, sword forgotten. When she opens her eyes, she sees only crimson grass, and the pressure in her head slowly lifts.
Eula lands next to her, carrying Ningguang in her arms. Tendrils still snake across her pale body, embedded into her veins. It feels like a transformation gone wrong, Beidou finds herself thinking, a transformation interrupted by their strike. And then the thought is gone when Eula pulls out fur coats from her bag, wrapping Ningguang tightly in them. All Beidou can do is to hold the wad of furs that is Ningguang as tightly as she can.
Archons, she is utterly still in Beidou’s arms. But when Beidou presses her head to Ningguang’s face, she can feel the faint warmth of her weak and slow breaths.
“Come,” Eula mutters, “We should stay no longer. She is alive, but we need Lisa’s help.”
“L–Lisa? The librarian?”
“And one of our brightest mages.” Eula smiles at her encouragingly. “Can you stand?”
“Y–yeah.” Beidou staggers to her feet, adrenaline surging through her veins. She can’t think. She can only blindly follow Eula out of the cave and back through the valley, using her body to shield Ningguang as much as she can, until they reach the mountain’s base camp, and the bitter cold of Dragonspine fades into a distant memory.
If she is completely honest, Beidou recalls little of their journey back from Dragonspine. She remembers stumbling after Eula through a sidegate and into a house in Mondstadt. She remembers blankly greeting Lisa and laying Ningguang on a bed. She remembers Eula guiding her to a chair and handing her a warm drink, which she gratefully accepts.
When she finally comes to her senses, the cup in her hands is empty, and Lisa is peering at her in concern. “Are you back with us, Captain?”
Beidou blinks. “Y–yeah. Lisa, right?”
The mage smiles and nods at someone else. Eula comes into view, relieved. “Beidou’s alright?”
“She’s just in shock.” Lisa pats Beidou’s head, and Beidou feels strangely soothed by the gesture. “Anyone would be. Why, Eula, when you told me you’d be bringing in a friend of Beidou’s, I wasn’t expecting the former Tianquan of Liyue to show up!”
“Neither did I,” Eula confesses, “We heard she had… passed.”
“She didn’t die,” Beidou blurted out, hot tears suddenly pricking her eye as the truth sinks in. Both Lisa and Eula look at her. “She was alive all this time, and I… I…”
I gave up on her.
A hand rests on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. Beidou sniffles, rubbing her eye and looking up at Eula. Right. Now isn’t the time to cry. She still has to know— “Is she… how is she?”
Lisa smiles gently, stepping aside to reveal Ningguang tucked into bed, fast asleep. “She will be alright.”
“What happened to her?”
“We don’t know,” Eula says, “But I think Lisa managed to draw some conclusions.”
The librarian nods. “You both found her connected to Durin’s heart. The dragon’s blood is highly toxic to humans— we won’t live long. The fact that she’s alive means she was only moved there very recently.”
Beidou’s mind reels at the thought. “So she was… somewhere else? For two years?”
“That’s right. I don’t know where she was, but she has been poisoned by Durin’s blood for a long time. Small doses that accumulated in her body, placing her into a deep slumber. To the untrained eye, she might appear dead.”
Dead. Is that how they were all fooled? Was Yelan wrong? Had it been Ningguang all along, poisoned by an attacker— and later abducted from her coffin? Is it even possible?
Yet her Vision would have given the game away. Perhaps her kidnapper was the one who’d locked it in the safe after extracting the password from her. They might never know, and besides— it isn’t important now.
Lisa gestures to a bucket next to the bed, drawing Beidou’s attention. “I’ve given her potions that will purge the toxins in her body. She’ll be vomiting it out over the next few weeks, and then… she should wake.”
Beidou shudders, staring blankly at the cup. “But when we found her— those veins— they were inside her—” Inside my head—
“I’ve removed all of them.” Lisa’s voice is gentle, and Beidou clings to it desperately like a lifeline. “It seemed that her assailants were trying to induce some sort of… transformation. I’m unclear what the result would be if it had been allowed to finish. Thankfully, you both found her in time. Now that she’s far from the source, she can begin healing… although I’m uncertain about her state of mind.”
“Okay.” Beidou finds that she can manage nothing else.
Eula gently takes the cup from her hands. “Are you alright, Beidou?”
“Y–yeah.” She gets to her feet, dragging the chair over to Ningguang’s bedside. “If you don’t mind, I wish to… stay with her.”
Lisa exchanges a knowing glance with Eula. “Sure. It’ll be good to have someone watch over her, too.”
“Thank you.”
When the door closes, Beidou shakily reaches out to rest a hand on Ningguang’s cheek. Two years. She’d given her up for dead. If Yelan hadn’t found her then and kicked her ass into gear, Ningguang could have become… an abomination. Something to be put down. And now that she’s here… Beidou finds she’s at a complete loss for words. She can only cradle Ningguang’s pale cheeks gently, silently, and thank all the Archons above for bringing her back home.
Incomplete, wounded, lost— but home.
Beidou soon concludes that Lisa wasn’t joking when she said Ningguang would vomit the toxins out. At seemingly random times of the day, Ningguang would sit up in bed abruptly, eyes glazed and unfocused, and violently throw up globules of blood. By the fifth time, Beidou isn’t sure where the blood is even coming from. It congeals into a disgusting dark mess in the bucket. Her vomiting episodes are accompanied by shivering and delirium; Beidou makes sure to clean her up after it ends, stroking her hair until she slips back into a feverish sleep.
Lisa brings in Albedo at one point, and together they conduct tests on the blood that Ningguang throws up. It’s full of Durin’s toxins, Albedo notes, and no one can possibly wake up intact from such a heavy dose. Even Dvalin, one of the Four Winds himself, was rendered incapacitated for decades from ingesting Durin’s blood.
“She won’t be the same when she wakes,” Albedo explains patiently.
“What do you mean, not the same?” Beidou feels herself falling apart like shredded paper.
“There’s no way to tell right now… I just need you to be prepared.”
The knowledge eats away at Beidou, wearing down her heart and will, until Ningguang’s eyes finally open a month later. Beidou knows when she is truly awake; there is a clarity to her gaze that wasn’t there before, and she blinks in confusion as she stares at the wooden ceiling.
“Ning…?” Beidou whispers, taking her hand. “Ningguang…?”
She turns, eyelids fluttering, and Beidou glimpses a faint spark of recognition in her dead eyes.
“It’s me. Beidou,” she tries, pushing Albedo’s words to the back of her mind.
Not the same—
“Beidou,” Ningguang whispers.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
She closes her eyes; opens them. “Beidou… why do I feel… so… tired…?”
And the truth strikes Beidou like a clap of thunder.
“She doesn’t remember anything.” Beidou paces the length of Lisa’s study. “Two years of her life. Just… blank. In her mind she just drank tea and went to bed— and then she wakes up here. In Mondstadt. Exhausted.”
“Isn’t that good? She remembers you,” Lisa says, “And she remembers most of what happened before she ‘died’. None of the bad stuff.”
Beidou stops in her tracks. Lisa has a point. A part of her is indeed relieved that Ningguang can remember nothing. Another part of her is perturbed by this same fact, for does this mean whatever happened was so horrifying that Ningguang recalls nothing? Regardless, she should be glad, because this is the Ningguang she remembers, even if she is tired and weak.
Why, then, does this frustrate her so?
The answer becomes crystal-clear one fine afternoon, while Beidou pours Ningguang a cup of Qingxin tea.
“You seem different,” Ningguang murmurs, accepting the cup graciously.
“How so?”
“It is as though… you lost something precious to you, but then it… came back.”
“I like to think I’d be happy about that.”
“Yet you aren’t.” Ningguang sips her tea delicately. “There is a weight on your shoulders… and a shadow in your eye.”
Beidou watches her drink, ever so eloquent and elegant despite being bedridden. She is the same. The same as she had been when Beidou left that fateful night, promising to return. It’s almost as if time stopped for Ningguang at that moment. That it’s only just started flowing again. She isn’t bothered. To her, it’s as though she woke from a long sleep, one that simply isn’t restful.
But to Beidou— it has been two long and painful years.
She had returned to the harbour and bought Ningguang’s favourite cabbage soup. She had been turned away for the first time by Buyun, whose face was paler than snow. She had taken their secret elevator up then, stepped into the Jade Chamber, and heard wailing. She had come face to face with her greatest, darkest fears.
She had gazed upon the serene face of her deceased lover in a coffin, dull Vision resting on her midriff.
Ningguang had died, and Beidou had believed, and she’d screamed her grief to the heavens and sailed to the edges of the world to pour her sorrow into waters unknown; she’d let grief grip her with its fangs and tear her apart from limb to limb.
She had bled, and kept bleeding, and nothing in this world could heal her. She had dragged her haggard body to the darkest corners of Teyvat, consorted with sinners and begged for salvation that was denied to her.
She had sat by her grave and tried not to think about the vastness of her love for her. That if her love was an ocean, she could drown the world in it. And she would gladly do so, too, if it meant Ningguang could stay.
And now Ningguang has returned.
Beidou should be crying in relief. But all she can feel is a deep, seething fury. It boils within her like the magma of Natlan’s volcanoes, a rage that blinds her to all else. She swallows thickly.
“Beidou?” Ningguang’s voice, innocent and gentle, oblivious to everything she has been through.
Oblivious to her pain.
Beidou storms out of the room and slams the door shut behind her. She is vaguely aware of Lisa rising to her feet when she stomps past the librarian and out into the city of freedom. She ignores the hollers and laughter, breaking into a run. She has to get away, far, far away from all this happiness and noise and voices and light and—
Sploosh.
Beidou blinks.
Blue sky above; blue sky below, reflected upon the still surface of Cider Lake. A gentle breeze wafts across the land, lifting dandelion seeds into the air. Beidou looks down at her feet, her boots soaked in cool water.
When did Teyvat ever look so beautiful? She cannot remember.
But she must have found it beautiful once, and that is why she refused to stay in Liyue Harbour; refused to stay by Ningguang’s side. She had so much love in her heart; enough to drown the world—
Enough to love Ningguang.
It isn’t her fault. It isn’t her fault that she recalls nothing of her torment. It isn’t her fault that Beidou had to suffer like this, had to hurt so much.
No, Beidou thinks, it’s her fault. For not believing. For running away and drowning herself in her sorrows, for coming home to a grave and not pursuing hope. She could have kept looking. If she’d had the courage to even stay in Ningguang’s home, she might have found her Vision earlier.
Beidou knows she should be grateful that Ningguang survived. She should be weeping tears of joy to see the sun rise on her world again. And yet she can only lift her face to the sky and cry.
How did this all happen? Why?
She feels a familiar presence behind her— one that she has sorely missed. She’d never thought she’d ever feel this presence again. Despite her reluctance to face Ningguang, Beidou still does when she hears the other woman’s footsteps grow unsteady.
“Ning—” Beidou turns, swiftly catching Ningguang when her knees give way. “You shouldn’t be up and about! You’re still recovering!” Beidou holds her tightly, checking her temperature with a hand on her forehead. “You’ll fall sick here…”
“You’re… always crying,” Ningguang murmurs, “Why, Beidou? What happened?”
What changed?
She hasn’t told her. Hasn’t told Ningguang that two whole years have passed since she went to bed. Hasn’t told her anything. How can she expect Ningguang to understand?
So Beidou smiles through her tears, sitting on the grass. She rests Ningguang on her lap, wrapping her arms around the frail woman. Ningguang has lost so much weight; she is all skin and bones, and yet Beidou finds that familiar warmth in her. A warmth that fills her from the deepest parts of her soul, like a dried spring now gushing with water.
“Because… it’s been two years, Ning,” Beidou whispers, “Two years since I saw you. You have been gone for two years.”
Ningguang stiffens.
“I believed you were dead. I didn’t bother to look, I…” Her voice breaks, and with that, her walls crumble into tears. “I just… I just gave up,” Beidou sobs, “I left Liyue, I never looked back. And all this time, you—”
She stops when Ningguang squeezes her hand gently. “I’m… I’m here now, Beidou.”
Beidou lifts her head, staring at the encouraging smile on Ningguang’s lips. Yes. That is all that should matter: that she’s here. But a gulf has opened between them, and it feels insurmountable. In this time, Beidou has walked ahead in life, while Ningguang is still there— trapped at the same moment she was taken away.
She opens her mouth, but the words refuse to pass the lump in her throat.
And Ningguang understands, the way two halves of a soul do. She looks down, her brow furrowing in confusion. Beidou watches, speechless, as she slowly gets to her feet. “I believe… you need time,” Ningguang says softly. Though she smiles, her dead eyes hold a hint of sadness within. “And perhaps… so do I.”
Beidou clings to her hand, and Ningguang caresses it. Gently, she takes her hand and lets it go.
Beidou watches the light of her life leave, and does nothing to stop her.
Ningguang barely makes it to the door of her room before her knees give way again and the world tips over. Her head spins as she blindly touches the floorboards, struggling to orientate herself. Blood roars in her ears, and she can’t breathe. Archons, she doesn’t remember feeling this weak in her life. Her legs feel like they’re made of slime, and her body resists her command.
“Lady Ningguang!” a voice exclaims, and a pair of hands swiftly carry her into the room.
Ningguang’s blurred vision slowly clears as she relaxes on the bed. She blinks, turning her head to see the Acting Grandmaster watching her intently. “Jean…”
“How are you feeling?” Jean asks, sitting on the chair.
Ningguang smiles faintly, sitting up in bed. “I’m alright… thank you.”
“That’s good. You shouldn’t leave the bed without Lisa’s permission, Lady Ningguang. You’ve been through a lot.”
“Have I?” The words, tinged with bitterness, fall from her lips before she can stop herself.
It seems as if Beidou has been through so much more.
Jean’s usually-stern expression softens. “Just because you can’t remember, doesn’t mean nothing happened.”
“I… Beidou tells me it has been two years. But it… it feels like I only slept and woke, like any other day.” Ningguang shakes her head. It confuses her, this realisation. Had she been sleeping for two years? If she’d just been sleeping, why does Beidou hurt? Her melancholy is as infinite as the forest, like the endless winters of Snezhnaya. There must be something else; something more.
The Acting Grandmaster hums, leaning back on her chair. “Well, Lady Ningguang… would it help if I tell you about the world now? And how things have changed since I received your last letter?”
Her last letter. Ningguang vaguely remembers this; Jean had written to her for advice on running Mondstadt’s Windblume festival this year. Ningguang had recommended she work with Fontaine to introduce kites. “Did you bring in the kites?”
Jean chuckles. “I did. In fact, I did that last year.”
Last year. In her memory, she’d barely written to Jean three months ago.
“Liyue announced their new Tianquan shortly after. Two Windblumes have passed since then,” Jean continues, “And while the Crux Fleet continues on its voyages… the Alcor has not docked at the harbour.”
Impossible. Time has not passed in her mind, and yet— Ningguang is starting to grasp the truth. Time has passed. Years have passed. What was simply a blank in her memory has been hundreds of days for everyone else— for Beidou.
Seven hundred and thirty days where she thought Ningguang had passed away.
“The Alcor docks at Dornman more often now,” Jean murmurs, laying a hand on hers, “Beidou often drinks up Diluc’s entire stash.”
Hot tears prick Ningguang’s eyes.
“She missed you so, so dearly. Every waking moment. You could see it in her eye… for two years, the Beidou we knew was a walking corpse. Empty, lifeless. Eula says she died when you did.”
Ningguang blinks, and tears fall. Seven hundred and thirty days. The thought of losing Beidou hurts in a visceral way, like losing a piece of her soul. Beidou had lost her for so long, and… her heart hurts. Her head hurts. Her shoulders shake with the weight of understanding, and Jean gently pushes her back onto the bed when she whimpers in pain.
“Don’t strain yourself yet,” the Acting Grandmaster says, “Please, close your eyes. Even if you don’t remember, your body does. I’ll get Beidou, okay?”
Ningguang nods, forcing herself to close her eyes and focus on her breathing. Somewhere in the darkness, she hears a door open and shut. She hears footsteps approach the bed, and a familiar, calloused hand caress her forehead.
She reaches out in her mind, tries to speak— but the world fades, and takes her consciousness with it.
When Ningguang wakes again, she finds Beidou reading a book by her side. The Captain looks up and smiles. “Ning, you’re awake.”
Memories come rushing back to her: Beidou’s tears by Cider Lake; Jean’s words to her. She nods numbly.
“You look unwell.” Beidou frowns. “Are you hungry? Feeling sick?”
Ningguang shakes her head. “No, I… I’m alright.”
The pirate sets the book aside and gets to her feet, pouring her a cup of water. “Okay. At least drink something, then.”
She obeys, relishing the warm water running down her throat. When the cup is empty, Ningguang finally gathers her courage and speaks. “Beidou, I… spoke to Jean while you were away.”
Beidou stiffens.
“Seven hundred and thirty days… is… a long time for you to bear this pain, beloved.”
The pirate smiles wanly. “It isn’t your fault. I, too, am to blame— I gave up on you, Ning. On us.”
You didn’t. Ningguang opens her mouth to argue, frustration flaring in her eyes, when she feels it. A beast within, rising from slumber, rattling her ribs with a low roar, dragging its claws down her chest. She freezes, mouth hanging open, as the creature sinks its fangs into her bones and snaps them clean in two. She remembers— flashes of light, disjointed voices, the burning fire in her chest— a thick, metallic fluid trickling down her throat— the nights of hot flashes and terrible chills— the screaming, the screaming in her head—
And then it ends.
Beidou is holding her tightly, and she— she is shivering, drenched in cold sweat. Her hands are curled, fingernails digging into Beidou’s back.
“Ning?!” Beidou calls, clutching her shoulders. “Ning, can you hear me?”
Ningguang blinks and nods, becoming more aware of the tears still streaking down her cheeks, and the blood underneath her fingernails. She tries to speak, but her throat feels raw, as if she’d been the one screaming. Beidou nods at someone, and Ningguang watches blankly as someone approaches. Brown hair, green eyes… Lisa? Lisa…? She doesn’t feel quite put together; she feels as though a piece of her has been flung into a corner of the room, watching the scene unfold.
Lisa gently takes her hand, pressing a thumb to her wrist. The mage’s hand is cold. Or… is Ningguang the one who is warm?
“She’s feverish,” Lisa says softly, “Frightened.” She lifts her head. “Tell you what, love, I’ll give you a calming potion, okay?”
Ningguang finds herself incapable of moving.
Beidou wipes her tears and hugs her again. “You’re okay,” she murmurs, taking the potion and lifting it to Ningguang’s lips. “Drink this and rest, baobei.”
She obeys in a daze, swallowing the sweet liquid as her shivering stops. Beidou pushes her back gently onto the bed, pulling up the blanket. She stares, eyelids growing heavy, as the pirate plants a kiss on her forehead.
“Let’s talk outside,” Lisa murmurs, and Ningguang’s eyes close.
Beidou shuts the door to the room behind her, shaken. She hasn’t seen anything like this since Ningguang woke up. That sudden daze in her eyes, as if the life in them was abruptly drained away, as if her soul just left her body. Then the screaming and thrashing, loud enough that it sent Lisa running into the room.
A stinging sensation on her back draws a yelp out of her, and Beidou realises Lisa is treating the scratches Ningguang left on her.
“Th–thanks,” Beidou mutters.
“It’s no problem.” Lisa sets aside the medical supplies. “Now… what was that about, Beidou?”
“I… I don’t know. One minute she was fine, and then suddenly… she just…” Lost it.
“I see.”
Beidou’s eye narrows. It’s clear to her that the librarian has her suspicions, and yet she’s dancing around the issue. “Why’d you want to talk to me outside?”
“Because I want to know what happened.” Lisa crosses her arms, glaring at her. “Those symptoms, her sudden delirium… she must have had a flashback.”
Her blood runs cold. “You mean she… remembers?”
“No. I don’t think so.” Lisa rubs her chin thoughtfully. “Just… in that moment, she wasn’t here. She was there, somewhere in those two years. I doubt she’ll remember when she wakes.”
Instinctively, Beidou releases the breath she has been holding.
“But it doesn’t happen for no reason. She must have been stressed. Afraid. Agitated?”
“She… she apologised. Realised that I’d been… well, that it’s been two years, and I thought she was dead. I told her it isn’t her fault.” Beidou closes her eye; opens it. “She seemed… frustrated.”
Lisa’s brow furrows. “A strong emotion, frustration. That must be it… it must have thrown her back to a time when she’d felt something just as strongly.”
“Will it happen again?”
The librarian nods. “Don’t be fooled by her countenance, Beidou. Lady Ningguang doesn’t know it herself, but she’s very fragile. The fact that she can’t remember means anything could set her off.”
Beidou is starting to understand. It isn’t that Ningguang can’t remember. Whatever happened in those two years had been terrifying; enough that she’d shut off her own memories to protect herself. “She must have gone through something… terrible.”
Lisa’s gaze softens. “I’m sure she has. Whoever took her had been preparing her to fuse with Durin’s heart all this time.”
Beidou involuntarily shudders at the thought.
“If I may offer advice? I don’t think she can… go back to Liyue. I’m not sure if she can handle the strain.”
“I don’t intend to take her back.” Yelan had requested for her to take Ningguang away, and Beidou understands why— more so now. Before, when Ningguang was Tianquan, she could handle herself. Now— now, she needs to heal. Her mind is a temple riddled with holes, and until she can fix them, Beidou will not let her return. “It’s fine… Liyue believes she’s dead anyway.”
“But she can’t stay here forever.”
Beidou knows that, too. It isn’t fair to impose upon the Knights of Favonius forever. And if word gets out to Liyue that their former Tianquan was sighted here… Beidou doesn’t even want to think about the consequences. If so, then—
“Don’t worry, Lisa.” The pirate smiles. “I know what to do.”
Beidou puts the question off for as long as she can, focusing on helping Ningguang regain her strength. She writes to Yelan and breaks the news to Kazuha, Acting Captain of the Crux Fleet. He replies swiftly, informing her that the fleet has made a detour and will dock at Dornman Port for her. Beidou wishes the Alcor would be slower— but soon enough, the time to depart draws near, and Beidou can avoid this moment no longer.
The morning before the Alcor docks, Beidou sits on the bed and takes Ningguang’s hand. “Baobei…”
Ningguang hums.
“How much of your life from… before… can you remember?”
The former Tianquan pauses. “I remember it quite… clearly. From childhood, to my businesses, to that… night. It’s only after that is a complete blank.”
“I see.” It brings her some semblance of relief, to know that Ningguang hasn’t lost much of their shared memories. “We’ll have to leave soon, but I don’t think we can go back to Liyue… or back to your home. Not yet.”
Ningguang heaves a sigh. “I’m well aware. I am supposed to be dead, after all.”
Beidou barks out a laugh. “That you are. It does mean you get to choose, for once. No duty, no responsibility, no nothing. What do you want to do, Ning?”
“What do you want to do, Beidou?”
“Nuh-uh!” Beidou wags a finger. “You ain’t pushing this back on me! I’ve had my two years. Now I’m going with you. Whatever you choose.”
Ningguang lowers her head thoughtfully. “I… haven’t given it much thought, to be honest. But, right here, right now…” She glances out the window, at the blue sky of Mondstadt. “Two years is a long time to be dead, and… everything has changed. You have, too.”
“I have.” Beidou squeezes her hand lightly. “But my love for you hasn’t.”
A faint smile graces Ningguang’s lips. “There’s still much I have to learn about you again.”
“And two years of love to catch up on.”
Ningguang rolls her eyes. “Do you still… like to travel?”
Beidou pauses to think. In those two years, the world had seemed dull. Yet now that Ningguang is here, back with her, she can gaze upon the sky and smile once again. Colour has returned to her world, and it is dazzling. “With you? Of course.”
“Then… Beidou, I think… I want to see the world. Not as Tianquan, but as… Ningguang. All the stories you’ve told me, all these places. I’d like to see them for myself.”
Beidou’s chest swells with pride. “If that is your wish… then let’s go, Ning. Let’s sail with the Crux Fleet. I’ll take you on a tour around Teyvat, show you all the sights you’ve heard so much about.”
“And when that’s over?”
Beidou pulls her into a tight hug.
“Then we’ll live somewhere together.”
“Just us?”
“Yeah.” Beidou smiles, planting a kiss in her hair. The stars have given her a second chance, and she will squander it no more. “Just you and me, beloved, for the next seven hundred and thirty days—”
—until the end of time.
—FIN.