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There is a mortal that, if you asked Xiao, he'd tell you he seemed a little too much like Morax. 

But he obviously can't be Xiao's Lord. Whenever Rex Lapis had decided he'd go Incognito, and play with the mortals, he'd tell someone. Originally, it'd be Guizhong.. Now, it is Xiao. 

Even with this knowledge, coupled with the fact that his Lord still visits him at Wuwant Hill ever so often, he is still a little suspicious. Still, it is unbecoming of him to doubt Morax. 

There is a Fatui always around the man. Xiao doesn't care what mortals do, but he doesn't like the Fatui. They always cause trouble some way ot the other. In fact, there are many Fatuus here, but one is at least one of the two Harbingers is smart enough to make herself scarce. 

He knows what happened in Mondstat. The Fair Lady had taken Barbatos' gnosis. Normally, news wouldn't travel this quickly, but the Anemo Archon has always favoured his vision bearers, and thus, the wind favours them. He despises her, and he doesn't want her in his home, but it is not his place to act, and so he will remain docile until he is not needed to be as such. 

Had Xiao been any younger, he wouldn't have hesitated to cut down the Fatui where they stood, alas, he cannot risk a war with Snezhnaya, and he wouldn't act without Morax's permission anyway. 

Xiao doesn't have enough time to continue to ponder, it is now sunset. Sunset till sunrise, he has a duty to carry out. As the last of the Yaksha, the Conquerer of Demons fights the souls of the damned until dawn breaks through the sky and makes way for the sun, he has completed his duty for the day. Come next sunset, he will fight again. And so, the cycle will repeat. 

He has chosen this life, and he will not regret it. Liyue is his home, and he will cherish it as such. 

Soon, the Rite of Descension will be upon them, and although Xiao will not come close to any mortals any time soon, he cannot help but wish he could watch as his Lord comes down as the Exuvia. It is simply breathtaking, he heard, and he is sure of it, too. 

The days of war are long gone, yet Xiao will never be able to forget the ease in which Morax had wielded his spear. The ease in which he commanded his troops, and the trust he had in his Generals to follow their orders, and lead when he is unavailable. 

Xiao is a creature drawn to bloodshed. Ever since he had been born, he has bathed in blood, and mangled flesh, and such. As his previous Master's bloodhound, and then later as one of Morax's Generals. Now, he continues to wash the ground in blood, as he fights the souls of bygone gods who tried to achieve Archonhood. 

So, he leaves hisnperch on Wangshu Inn, dons his mask, and fights. Perhaps it will be the day when he buckles under the unrelenting weight of his Karmic debt. Perhaps it will be the day he joins his brothers and sisters in Celestia, who had gone mad due to the very same thing Xiao is infected with. Perhaps not. Only time will tell. 

The Rite of Descension is upon them. He watches as people rush, and shove, and fight to get to the centre. To the heart of where Rex Lapis will descend. The Qixing calm the crowd to the best of their abilities, while the Tianquan finishes the necessary preparations. 

He sighs as he watches them, ever the Guardian Yaksha. It is then, that he notices two newcomers. A blonde traveler, and his companion. The companion is floating, and had Xiao not seen weirder sights in his time as a slave, or in the war, he might've approached them immediately just to see what kind of thing it was. 

Xiao knows them. 

Mondstat's Knights of Favonius' Honorary Knight.

Those who cherish the wind, will be cherished in turn, and so the wind talks. It whispers, and it screeches, and it delivers. 

He doesn't particularly like, or dislike them, it is just in his nature to be apprehensive to new sights, yet it is not uncommom for new faces to appear in the nick of time, only arriving to witness the Rite of Descension. 

It is not his place to comment on the happenings of Mondstat, and Barbatos' pseudo-child, Dvalin. 

He waits along with the crowd, counting the seconds in his mind, and just like them, waiting for a glimpse of the Exuvia, yet he doesn't get a chance to see the sighs as the sun is setting and he must tend to his duties lest he break his contract. 

While he fights, it happens. 

The wind whispers, soft so soft, they are scared. They are scared, but why? Why why why? It whispers lies in his ears that Morax, that Rex Lapis, is dead. Dead dead dead. It tries to placate him, to make him hear them out. His ears ring deafeningly. 

In the middle of his batttle, surrounded completely by souls, the Vigilant Yaksha falters. He hesitates. One of the damned gets a lucky hit, and Xiao feels the way his skin rips and tears, and feels the way the blood rushes to gush out as ash wafts off his skin. He knocks himself out of the haze he got stuck in. 

The damned jeet at him, the mock, and they laugh, and they repeat the same statement again and again and again. "Rex Lapis is dead", they say. 

"What will you do now, famed bloodhound?", They coo. 

And so, Xiao decided that he must've misheard the wind because Morax is not dead, and the actual dead are tricking him. He grits his teeth, adjusts his grip on his spear, shuts of his brain, and returns to the movements he has practiced for millennia upon millennia. 

The wind doesn't lie, it never does, but Xiao is sure the wind had never talked in the first place. 

Come the early rays of the morning sun, Xiao will seek out his Lord, and see him alive alive alive, and decidedly not dead dead dead. 

And then, the traveler appears. Just as Xiao is about to retire to Wangshu Inn, to rest for a bit, but only a little becaus he is undeserving of anything longer than that, and heal his wounds, the traveler appears. 

He's on the balcony Xiao has claimed for himself, but it's okay becauss Xiao doesn't own it, and the claim is only in his mind and occasionally an unwritten rule to guests at the inn. 

They're admiring the view before the little one calls out and reminds the traveler of his duties.

And then, a plate of Almond Tofu is placed on the railing, and the traveler calls out for Xiao. 

Who told them his name? Rarely anybody calls him Xiao, and he prefers it that way. He brushes past the disrespect because they're new to Liyue, and he has better things to take care of. 

He appears in a flash. 

A beat, then:

"Woah," The blonde one begins. "You're adeptus Xiao?"

Xiao simply cocks a brow in response. 

"Sheesh, okay, this is awkward, Paimon doesn't know what to do, traveler!" The little one — Paimon — is so loud, Xiao is suprised his eardrums haven't burst yet. 

Is this guy's name seriously just 'Traveler'? 

"Calm down Paimon, I got this! Um, My name is Aether, and this," He pushes the plate of almond tofu closer to Xiao. "Is an offering to you."

Xiao blinks. 

An offering. 

He narrows his eyes. 

"Nothing suspicious, or poisonous, I swear!" Aether rushes to clarify seeing Xiao's reaction. Xiao belatedly nods. 

As much as almond tofu is Xiao's weakness, he is not dumb enough to believe the words coming from someone who doesn't even belong to Teyvat, so he just crosses his arms, keeps his distance, and asks: "What do you want?"

"How rude!" Paimon scoffs. She gets on Xiao's nerves. He's lucky he hid his injury because he's sure that if Paimon made a comment about it, Xiao wouldn't hesitate to throttle her or teleport away immediately. Odd. 

"We.. come with news. It's not good." The statement ends like a question. Nervous. Are they nervous because he's an Adeptus, a Yaksha, or for something otherwise? 

He waits. 

"Oh, um right, you see.."

"Get on with it, Traveler." As much as Xiao tries to be nice to mortals, he's never properly interacted with one, and people beating around the bush always manage to piss him off. 

"Rex Lapis is dead!" Paimon blurts out. 

Silence. 

"Haha," Xiao drawls. "Very funny. I'll be taking my leave now."

In a fit of desperation, Aether clutches at his hand, stopping him from teleporting away. 

"Xiao, you have to listen, she's being truthful-" Xiao wrenches away his hand out of Aether's grasp. His eye twitches slightly. 

"Rex Lapis, he just fell from the sky, like a ragdoll." Aether continues undettered, and Xiao's world fades into static white noise, completely ignoring what else the traveler is saying. The words from the wind replay in his head. 

Rex Lapis is dead. 

His breath stutters slightly, and his hands shake, unnoticeable to anyone that isn't himself. 

Rex Lapis is dead. 

He doesn't want to believe them, but the wind doesn't lie and if the traveler is also saying this, and the damned were mocking him about the very same thing then-

Rex Lapis is dead. 

Bile rushes up his throat. The very same man who saved him, who gave Xiao a purpose in life, is dead. 

He teleports away, he doesn't even know where he's going, just that he needs to be away. Away from everyone and everything. 

The man who saved Xiao from being nothing but a slave to a god who only wanted the worst for Xiao, is dead. The man who gifted him the name 'Xiao', is dead. 

... 

First Guizhong, then the Yaksha, and now Morax. How mant more losses does Xiao have to go through? Has he not been through enough? Has Celestia not tired of laughing at his misery? Hasn't he suffering enough? Lost enough? What more must he lose? 

The voices, an effect of the Karma, laugh at him, and he chokes on air. 

His vision blurs slightly. 

Xiao's saviour is dead. The one Xiao pledged his life to is dead. He trios over something in his desperation-enduced haze, and staggers onto his knees. The world feels as though it's closing in on him. His nails dig into the flesh if his palms and he barely even registers the sensation of blood budding up. 

Xiao doesn't know what he did wrong, or where he went wrong. Was he not reliable enough for Rex Lapis to call on during his final battle? He had told him that he was Rex Lapis' spear, and with even so much as a whispered call, he'd return to his Lord's side without so much as a blink. 

Did Morax not trust him to defend him? Did Morax think Xiao was unworthy of fighting by his side again? But what could have even killed Morax? He was a war god, killing left and right, he doesn't know what happened. Was he caught of guard? 

The tears gather in his eyes, it's so fucking unfair.

Morax was never meant to die before Xiao. Xiao was always meant to go first. He'd prayed, begged, in during the war, that it should be Xiao who passes first because he wouldn't make it anither day without Morax. 

Morax who had seen something salvageable in Alatus, the bloodhound, that he decided to save him and take him in as one of his own. 

Morax who had gifted Alatus a new name so that he wouldn't have to fear being controlled by his real namy anymore.

Morax who understood his need for battle, and made for him a specially crafted spear. 

Morax, who Xiao was always so sure was unfallable. 

What did Celestia see in Xiao that they thought he deserved to walk the lands of Teyvat another day, instead of Morax? 

Why couldn't Xiao have just stayed a little bit longer? Had he stayed and watched the Rite of Descension, wouldn't he have been able to save Morax? Xiao should've stayed. It's his fault. He always manages to mess up. 

Morax should have never saved him from his previous Master, she was right. He is nothing more than a dumb slave who can't even do his job right. 

He releases his nails from the skin of his palms, and one hand reaches to tug at his hair, while the other wraps around himself, clutching tightly. 

Why couldn't Xiao have done something right for once in his life? He was never meant to live this long. He shouldn't have lived this long. Instead of him, it should've been Guizhong who lived, or one of the Yaksha, who he came to see as his family. Morax could've lived instead of him. 

He's so out of it he doesn't register the footsteps approaching him, until a hand wraps around the wrist of the arm tugging at his hair. Someone's kneeling beside him. Xiao has let someone see him like this. 

He tries to shove them off so that he can teleport away, but they don't move a single inch. 

"Xiao," They call. 

He doesn't respond. 

A sigh, then thehand gently tugs at his own, moving it away from his hair, while another wraps around his body. 

"Alatus," They call instead. 

Xiao's — Alatus' — eyes fly open, body tensing. There is no one who should know that name apart from Morax who is dead-. The man doesn't flinch when Xiao's nails painfully dig into his skin, and Xiao, this time, knows he's drawn blood. 

Horns, he registers. There's horns on top of their — his — head, and his arms are completely obsidian-like, with gold. Amber eyes, the pupils are like slits. 

Xiao knows who this is. Xiao would sooner shove his own spear through his chest and rip out his own heart then not recognize the face of his lord, but he's meant to be dead, but it's so undeniably him-

"Alatus," He calls again. 

"Dìjūn?" He whispers back, so brokenly, so softly, so scared. Scared that if he's too loud the man would be gone again. 

"Oh, little bird, I'm so sorry." Morax cradles him as if he's someone to be cherished. One of his hands come up to caress his face as Xiao stares wide-eyed. 

As if he's a broken record, "Dìjūn?" He repeats. 

"It's me, Alatus, It's me, I'm sorry." Morax repeats. 

Alatus doesn't move for a moment. And then, he all but throws himself into Morax's embrace, and the tears fall, and he's sobbing  because he thought he was alone and that Morax was dead, and it hurt, but he knows who this is. 

"It's you, I thought you died- Dìjūn you-" He's not making sense even to himself. He's stumbling over his words, barely forming sentences. 

He shoves his neck into the gap between Morax's shoulder and neck.

"Shhh, shh, sweet boy, I'm here, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." Morax coos, and unlike the damned, this is meaningful. And Alatus can barely pay attention, but he forces himself too because this is Morax and Morax is important to listen to. 

Alatus clutches onto Morax as if Morax is water, and he is but a man dying of thirst. 

And if Alatus and Morax stay there the rest of the day, with the former sobbing into the other's neck, while the latter gently cards his hand through the other's hair, that is theirs to know alone.