Archive of Our Own ^beta

Navigating the Divine Tree was still a challenge, even though Sethos did it every day - not so much a straightforward approach from the roots through the Akademiya to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, but finding shortcuts and memorising the layout from all angles. The tree’s layered structure was fascinating, much like the underground of the temples of Sumeru’s desert but reaching skywards rather than deep into the earth, and offered Sethos new opportunities to develop his navigation skills.

Getting to explore this place properly was one of the main reasons why Sethos wasn’t too sad whenever he lost sight of the stranger with the beautiful hat and the Anemo Vision on his chest, Sethos’ main reason for combing the Akademiya grounds on a daily basis in the hope of a second meeting.

Were they playing a game of cat and mouse? Sethos didn’t know, but he was invested.

Over the course of several days, Sethos found the nooks and crannies where students hid trinkets and chests or (illegally) stacked books from the House of Daena; he found other, more open, secret places where students met to avoid being overheard; but most importantly, he found ways to climb the Divine Tree’s thick branches, the spots where the wind could reach through the leaves and brush along his cheeks and through his hair, and where the view of Sumeru’s rainforests and greens would be breathtaking.

Sometimes, Sethos would catch a glimps of Hat Guy out of the corner of his eye, the other slipping out of sight before Sethos could react. It happened in the Akademiya, when Sethos was returning the illegally stacked books he had found, or when Cyno treated him to a meal as thanks and to ask for details of Sethos’ discovery.

More often, Sethos would hear the light jingle of bells in the air when he climbed higher than the Sanctuary of Surasthana, swinging up on to the branches, the sound proof that he had narrowly missed Hat Guy (again).

But Sethos’ diligent study eventually paid off. Success came so unexpectedly that Sethos visibly paused at the sight of Wanderer sitting on the other side of the enormous branch just outside the entrance to the Sanctuary, his legs dangling into the void. Although Sethos’ steps had been featherlight, Wanderer must’ve heard him, because he turned his head to face Sethos, his expression unreadable.

“What do you want?”

The sound of Wanderer’s voice jerked Sethos back to life.

“To talk. To get to know you better. You’re interesting, you know?” Sethos balanced himself with outstretched arms, more to feel the wind play around him than actually needing it, and made his way along the branch to Wanderer on light feet. A victorious smile had stolen itself across Sethos’ lips, curling into the corners of his mouth.

“You’re annoying.” Wanderer huffed a breath and lowered his head, hiding his face from Sethos behind the brim of his hat. “You’ve been following me around the Akademiya for fifteen days now, like a dog. Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

“So you noticed?” Sethos plopped down with his legs crossed and twisted his torso forward so that he could peek under Wanderer’s hat, his hand half raised as if to tip its brim up. But when Sethos met Wanderer’s glare, he froze in mid-movement, changed his mind, and dropped his hand to the back of his neck instead, without touching the hat. “That I’ve been trying to catch up with you, I mean,” he added, laughing lightly.

From up this close, the first time that Sethos got to sit with him face to face, Wanderer was truly intimidating - breathtakingly so. Looking at him was like looking at the finest craftsmanship of steel known to man, the sun reflecting off its sharpened blade in the hands of a master: it filled you with both marvel at its beauty and fear of what it could do at the same time.

“I’ve always been very fast and agile,” Sethos continued conversationally, trying to ignore the heat that crept up his spine and wrapped around his shoulders like a loving embrace from behind. “I didn’t expect to meet an equal among the students of the Akademiya so soon. Just another compelling reason for me to pick up studying here, isn’t it?”

“Is it.” Wanderer tilted his head. His tone was mockingly bored, and none of the emotion in his voice showed on his face. “Such a superficial reason, just like the others. Don’t insult me by comparing me to yourself.”

“Hm.” Thoughtful, Sethos swung his legs around and dangled them from the branch too, staring in the same direction as Wanderer. He let moments of silence pass and stretch on between them, not surprised that Wanderer didn’t try to fill them. It gave Sethos time to collect his thoughts on the matter, turn them over in his hands and select the words he wanted to share next.

“I guess you never tried being like the others,” Sethos mused. “Why not? You could be extremely popular. You are good-looking, smart. I’ve read your papers on Tatarasuna’s history. You have an amazing writing style, unlike any I’ve ever read before. Captivating to read.”

“I have priorities.”

“What, like actively not participating in the Interdarshan Championship but letting others make fools of themselves while you sit back?” When Wanderer huffed in response, Sethos turned his head and caught an expression on Wanderer’s face that could be read as something akin to resignation. “You let others run around as if it doesn’t concern you, but a little birdie told me that you regularly run errands for Lesser Lord Kusanali as well. How does that fit into the bigger picture, Hat Guy?”

“Quite fond of running around yourself, aren’t you?” Wanderer locked eyes with Sethos, indigo blue against green, and Sethos’ breath stuttered at the intensity of his gaze. He laughed it off more shakily than he would’ve liked.

“Do you always do that?” Sethos asked. Someone else might’ve asked Sethos a clarifying question or looked confused about what he was referring to, but Wanderer did neither, so Sethos explained unprompted: “Weigh your words and choose your point of attack wisely?”

When Wanderer still didn’t answer, just narrowed his eyes in a calculating look, Sethos leaned closer to bridge the distance between them, half expecting Wanderer to move or push him away. But Wanderer didn’t, just kept watching Sethos’ every move with a weight in his gaze that Sethos couldn’t understand with the limited knowledge he had of this guy.

The experience was humbling. It was exhilarating.

Closer than ever before, Sethos studied the handsome face, the unblemished perfect skin, the sensual arch of his lips, the soft curve of his jaw and cheekbones before returning his attention to these mesmerising eyes, framed by dark eyelashes and a streak of vibrant red hugging their corners.

“One more thing. I’m not a dog,” Sethos said lowly, his voice a whisper. “A fox, maybe. A flying serpent. A bee, if you want.”

From up this close, Sethos should’ve been able to hear Wanderer’s breaths or feel them caress the lower half of his face, but there were none, at least none that Sethos could feel. Another mystery.

“Mmmh,” Wanderer hummed approvingly, and the sudden smile he gave Sethos rooted him to the spot. “You’re finally showing your claws. I admit. Not like a dog.”

Without warning, Wanderer tipped Sethos’ chin up, mirroring his raised head as he studied Sethos’ face for a moment. And as quickly as Wanderer had grabbed Sethos, he let go again.

“A Rishboland Tiger fits you better,” Wanderer conceded. “A majestic kitten.”

Sethos should’ve considered the implication of Wanderer’s words, but his mind was hung up on the feeling of Wanderer’s fleeting touch, which Sethos could still faintly feel.

“Your hands are cold,” he voiced his thoughts, automatically reaching out to catch Wanderer’s hand in both of his, cupping it to share his body warmth. He noticed that Wanderer’s hands were dainty and mostly soft to the touch, softer than Sethos’, but with the callouses of someone who used to wield a blade -

Ah.

Sethos then realised the impulsitivity of his action. But he didn’t make a move to let go. Considering the circumstances, he might as well commit to it and give it a shot. Raising his gaze to meet Wanderer’s bemused one, Sethos said: “Want to grab a coffee together?”

Sethos had been wrong to suggest that Wanderer could be extremely popular - he already was. As they made their way through the Akademiya and Sumeru City down to Puspa Café, students, soldiers, mercenaries, merchants and citizens alike stopped and turned, some just staring, others whispering to each other and a few brave ones calling out to them as they passed.

Wanderer paid them no attention, hiding his face under his hat as he dictated their speed through the city. Sethos didn’t have any issues keeping up with the brisk pace, sometimes lagging behind to wave back to someone or exchange a couple of words with a familiar face before he caught up with Wanderer again.

At the café, Wanderer ordered the darkest coffee they had with just a nod to Enteka, who seemed to know this customer’s habits and had their orders ready and brought to their table just as they had taken their seats. Even indoors, he kept the hat on, every movement and tilt of his head accompanied by the soft jingle of the bells that were attached to the back of the hat.

Wanderer drank his black coffee easily, like Sethos would plain water, without making a face or minding the bitterness in the least. Or how hot the coffee was.

“Quit staring. It’s irritating.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Taking a deep breath, Sethos looked around the café, taking in the stylish interior of wood and painted glass. He stared blankly at the ceiling as he took small sips of his coffee, but after a short while his gaze was drawn magnetically back to Wanderer, who let out a small sigh and closed his eyes.

Absentmindedly, Sethos noticed that Wanderer didn’t lower his head to hide the upper half of his head from Sethos’ view - not anymore.

“Why did we walk all the way here when we could have raced?” Sethos asked the question that had been bothering him for some time now. “Were you trying to prove a point?”

“Why should I?”

“You don’t like the crowds. The attention. But you didn’t suggest flying or meeting me here. I suspect ulterior motives.”

“I couldn’t care less about the crowds and the attention.”

“But you want peace. That’s why you stay in these places where nobody can get you, or why you disappeared from sight whenever I tried to approach you these past fifteen days. Nobody at the Akademiya is really close to you. At least nobody I managed to find.”

Wanderer opened his eyes again.

“I don’t mince my words,” he said. “Most of them can’t handle it, but that’s their problem. I don’t work with any of those lowly insects either, so if they dare approach me about a group project or whatever, I make sure to make an example out of them so that others will mind their own business. Unfortunately, fools don’t learn. But here’s your explanation for why no one gets close to me.”

Wanderer reached for his cup, raised it to his lips to finish his drink, and as he tilted his head, he gripped his hat with his free hand to keep it from slipping off. Sethos watched, resting his chin on his palm. He thought about Wanderer’s words and saw the truth in them. Then he considered the fact that Wanderer had finally stopped avoiding him, and that Wanderer hadn’t bawled him out for approaching him.

“What makes me different?” Sethos asked.

Wanderer set down his now empty cup. His reply came promptly. “Progress,” he said. “There was method in your madness. I demand diligence as the bottom line. I can tell that there is more to you than that.”

“A compliment?” Sethos laughed, delighted. “From you?”

“Hardly. I was stating facts.”

“Come on. Coming from you, it’s high praise.” Sethos grinned at Wanderer, who evened out his scowl and settled for a slight shrug. So he wasn’t going to debate the point? Wow, it really must be true then.

“Are you finished?”

It took Sethos a second to catch up with the intended meaning of the question - not a rebuke of Sethos’ joy, but a reference to the cup of coffee on the table in front of him. Sethos stared into his half empty cup, feeling the remnants of warmth seep through it into the palm of his hand.

“Quite. Why?”

“Let’s leave.” Wanderer rose from his chair, a flat hand pressed against the table. “I don’t want my peace ruined by parasites.”

Sethos lifted his coffee to finish it and, from behind the rim of his cup, subtly scanned the room, which had slowly begun to fill with customers - no, with students from the Akademiya, who kept glancing in their direction, talking in hushed voices. Sethos imagined he could hear their names being dropped.

Ah. Maybe he had underestimated just how popular Wanderer was…

“Alright. Where are we going?” Sethos asked, gently setting down his cup as he rose from his chair, aware of how the room’s attention shifted and centred on him. He made sure to keep his voice loud enough for everybody to easily “overhear”, but low enough not to give himself away. “Can we stop by the House of Daena, my friend? Cyno has asked me to double-check the registers of borrowed and illegally stacked books if I have the time.”

Wanderer visibly froze, and for a second, Sethos didn’t know what he had done wrong, staring in confusion. Had Wanderer not taken the hint and understood Sethos’ plan to get them away from the gathering crowd and inquiring eyes? Was it possibly something to do with the books …?

Or did Wanderer perhaps take offense at Sethos calling him a friend?

Sethos took a step forward and opened his mouth to ask, but Wanderer didn’t give him an opportunity to. A firm hand wrapped around Sethos’ wrist and pulled him along as Wanderer said: “Sure, why not?”

As they passed the counter, he dropped a handful of Mora on it, and in the next moment, the two had pushed their way past a crowd entering the café and disappeared. The curious students who immediately rushed out into the street, hoping to catch the pair and see where they were headed, found themselves at a loss as to where Sethos and Wanderer had suddenly disappeared to.

“Just look at them.” From their vantage point high above, strategically chosen to have the sun at their backs, Wanderer and Sethos watched the frantic students run around aimlessly, checking corners, and finally heading towards the aforementioned House of Daena, which, of course, was a red herring to throw off the pursuers. “A pathetic lot.”

Or rather, Wanderer was watching them with unconcealed glee, because Sethos was preoccupied with the fact that Wanderer had lifted him off the ground into the air and was holding him in his arms as if Sethos didn’t weigh anything. Of course Sethos knew that those blessed with divine favour didn’t exactly follow Teyvat’s laws to the letter - with the Ba Fragment within him, he too had been able to lift and move things around that no normal human could.

But somehow, Sethos couldn’t imagine that Wanderer’s strength came from his Anemo Vision. After all, the idea that Madame Faruzan could lift Sethos like that was … ridiculous.

“Don’t forget to breathe.” Wanderer turned his head to look at Sethos in his arms, the smile still unchanged on his lips. Sethos stared back, wide-eyed, also captivated by how Wanderer looked without his hat - happy, free, the wind playing with his hair. Sethos had barely noticed that he had been holding his breath, but following Wanderer’s instruction, Sethos inhaled.

“You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” Wanderer asked. Mute, Sethos shook his head.

“Good.” Wanderer scanned their surroundings. “Hold on tight,” he warned, giving Sethos just enough time to wrap his arms around Wanderer’s neck before he shot off through the air, darting past buildings and houses at breakneck speed.

Sethos’ first instinct was to tighten his grip and bury his face against Wanderer’s shoulder, his entire body stiff - but when he felt Wanderer tremble and realised that it was laughter bubbling from his lips, Sethos blinked his eyes open again and turned his face to the wild wind tearing at their clothes.

Speed had always been addictive for Sethos, but this was a whole new experience. Sadly, it was over in a jiffy, and with solid ground beneath his feet, Sethos didn’t know if he liked it or not. With weak knees, he had to sink against the nearest wall, trying to ground himself again.

“Phew!” he exhaled, laughing shakily, glad to have a the solid wall in his back, and earth beneath his feet. Standing next to him, Wanderer seemed perfectly fine (because why wouldn’t he be?).

“Next time, we’ll sit outside, like I usually do,” Wanderer said and when Sethos didn’t answer, he turned to look down at him, his mouth a thin line. He kicked lightly against Sethos’ outer thigh, making him look up. “You said you didn’t mind heights.”

“I don’t.” Sethos motioned for Wanderer to sit on the ground beside him, but Wanderer scoffed. The promise of a repeat of today wasn’t lost on Sethos, and he made sure to reciprocate in kind, his mind reeling. “It will take some getting used to, that’s all.”

“Will it? Which element is your Vision then?” Wanderer dropped back and came to sit cross-legged in the air a few inches above the ground, his hat disappearing from his head and turning into a glowing circle at his back as he used his Vision to keep himself airborne. At the same time, Sethos noticed that lines along Wanderer’s body began to glow in a colour similar to Anemo. … tattoos? But tattoos didn’t glow.

“It’s Electro.” Sethos touched his hip where his Vision was hidden, and caught an unreadable emotion pass across Wanderer’s face, quick as a Scarab disappearing underground and too quick to catch. And with that, Wanderer’s mood changed as well, sobering him.

“Of course it is. How irritating,” Wanderer said cryptically. “Whatever. I brought you back home. Get some rest.” He rose and made a move to leave. Sethos reacted instinctively.

“Wait.” Sethos grabbed Wanderer’s sleeve before the other could get away. “One thing before you go.” Feeling steadier, Sethos stood, holding onto Wanderer’s forearm for support as he pulled himself upright. When Sethos let his hand linger, neither mentioned it.

“Speak.”

Gathering his courage, Sethos fixed his attention on Wanderer. “I like you,” he said. “And I would like to see you again.”

Wanderer raised an eyebrow. “You will.”

“Romantically,” Sethos clarified, at which Wanderer huffed a laugh.

“No doubt.” Wanderer said it as a fact, without any mockery or sharpness in his voice. He took Sethos’ hand from his forearm, idly holding onto it. “But don’t disappoint me, Sethos. Hearts are valuable. Treat them accordingly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means ..." Wanderer paused, leaving the sentence unfinished, and lowered his gaze. Although he wasn't wearing his hat, a shadow passed over his face. “It means no need to rush,” Wanderer said and let go of Sethos' hand, moving his free hand to lightly touch the Vision fastened to the left side of his chest, a tender gesture. “Wait for me tomorrow at dusk. I’ll come find you.” A blink, and he was gone.

Tomorrow at dusk …

Thoughtfully, Sethos raised the hand that Wanderer had held to his mouth and pressed his lips against the prickling cold spot that Wanderer's touch had left on his skin.