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The bitter taste of lies or the sweet nectar of love.
Two hearts aflutter, unaware of their destination.
Forms the story of love with each ripple and summation.
A love so deep torn apart by one’s eternal sleep.
Is reborn anew by another’s faithful leap.
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A long, long time ago, the emergence of abyssal beasts led the citizens of Teyvat to the brink of extinction.
“How pitiful they are, my sweet and helpless creations.”
A gentle wind carries the sigh of a god who reigns beyond the stars. With a flick of her merciful hand, a new law is etched onto the heavenly principles. Thus, the ability to wield the elements is bestowed upon her helpless creations. However, this great blessing comes at a price. The strong are assigned as alphas, while the weak are classified as omegas. Those who have little talent to wield the elements are treated as no more than livestock to be bred. Since then, Teyvat has been divided into seven nations of different rules and beliefs, each protected by extraordinary alphas.
Snezhnaya: The Everwinter Nation
“Tsaritsa, please grant me my one request.” Childe kneels before the Tsaritsa. “Please, allow me to attend the academy.”
The academy is a place which prides itself in cultivating notable warriors and leaders. However, only those who have presented as ‘alphas’ are accepted.
Perched high upon her frozen throne is the alpha and leader of Snezhnaya, the Tsaritsa. Her slender and frosted finger taps on the armrest in a silent rhythm as she contemplates the plea of her youngest harbinger. Tartaglia has proven himself to be one of her most loyal and mightiest blades. Now that selfless soldier stands before her, wearing his wish upon his chest; the silent blade forged to fulfill her orders has finally found a voice of his own.
A small breath of sigh escapes her lips.
“Very well. But remember, not a soul must find out that you are an omega.”
Tartaglia suppresses the elation that wells up in his chest. He must remember that before the queen, her goals and ambitions come before his own. This is merely a small reward. He bows his head and answers to her benevolent decision. “I am eternally grateful for your generosity. May the winter last forevermore.”
Liyue: Nation of Gold, Spring
The academy is ruthless. A gruelling and strict schedule is allocated for meals, studies, training, and the bare minimum amount of sleep. Thankfully, Childe managed to arrange for a private quarters with his pay as a harbinger. As part of his routine, he takes his inhibitors and sprays himself with a sickening amount of artificial pheromone.
“Well then, it’s time to pay my dearest friend a visit.”
Childe opens the window, and a gentle wind blows against his face. He steps on the window ledge and takes a fearless leap. To his surprise, a pair of arms reaches out to him. Dark locks flow over the man’s broad shoulders and his eyes bear the color of imperious gold. It’s hard to mistake those features for anyone else. Without a flicker of a doubt, the ginger resigns into his embrace and wraps his arms around his neck.
Strength, intelligence and wisdom – every quality that defines a superior alpha is taken into account within the academy. Childe secretly takes in a whiff of his familiar scent and hums. It’s hard to believe that the scent of an alpha could be so imposing, yet pleasant and even calming his nerves. This alpha, Zhongli, is a cut above the rest. His capabilities are comparable to a dragon which soars in a sky of his own. Childe casually wraps his legs around the brunet’s waists and raises a bold and questioning brow.
“Why are you here?”
“I was admiring a piece of art in the south-wing and lost track of time,” Zhongli explains, his voice low and languid, proceeding in his own deliberate pace. “As an apology for being late, I thought to visit your room for a change.”
“Don’t,” Childe chimes in swiftly and catches his own mistake — the way those eyes of molten cor lapis pivot to him with a hint of mild curiosity. The harbinger turns his face away in an attempt to regain his composure. “My room is always a mess. We should head to yours, as usual.”
Zhongli relents and lowers the harbinger to his feet. Childe sighs and brushes the creases that had formed on his clothes.
“You’re quite slender for an alpha,” Zhongli comments, setting a curious gaze on his friend from head to toe.
Childe rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance at his thoughtless remark. Naturally, there is a difference in physique between an alpha and an omega.
“Whether I’m slender or not, it won’t stop me from fulfilling my ambitions.” Childe narrows his eyes and glares at the alpha. “Carve it into your soul, Zhongli. Someday, I will beat you and stand at the very top.”
Zhongli blinks back in return. The harbinger didn’t expect much of a reaction from an alpha who spends his days leisurely. The omega purses his lips and turns on his feet, heat crawling up to his ears. ‘Was he being too aggressive?’ He shakes the thought from his mind and quickens his pace. Unbeknownst to him, his bold declaration urges a rare smile to form on the brunet’s lips.
Liyue: Nation of Gold, Summer
“You know, you’re quite the eccentric man,” Childe remarks.
“How so?” Zhongli replies, his tone indifferent whilst serving a steaming pot of tea.
“Everyone avoids me for beating up students and teachers twice my size, but here you are inviting this troublemaker into your abode,” The ginger picks up one of the two porcelain cups and takes a slow sip.
“If nothing else, I respect your bold and persistent efforts to challenge me,” Zhongli commends as he takes a sip of his own.
“Hmm,” Childe props his elbow on the table and studies the man before him. It’s clear that Celestia has her favorites, blessing him with a fine jawline, broad shoulders and sharp eyes. It became evident why the other alphas avoid him like the plague. The light scent of tea that wafts through the air is nothing compared to the dominating musk of earth and spice….
“Play a game with me, Childe.” The deep timbre in Zhongli’s voice breaks the silence between them.
Childe snaps out of his reverie and collects his thoughts. “Sure, don’t expect me to hold back though.”
A chuckle leaves the brunet’s lips.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, my friend.”
Zhongli is an academic genius who excels in everything. He is a scholar and a fighter, truly an alpha unlike any other. Most of the student body have even admitted their grievances, driven by envy, stating that he should have applied as a teacher instead of a student.
Childe thinks otherwise.
Zhongli is a great man but he has glaring flaws as well. He has a skewed common sense and moral compass. He puts up impenetrable walls which isolates himself, making him unapproachable. He also tends to obsess over rules as if the world, in his perspective, would fall apart if not held together by routines and order.
They proceed with a game of Liyuen chess. Every move that is taken from each side comes from a cumulative of precise intention and knowledge.
“Sometimes sacrifices are necessary in order to win a battle,” Zhongli says as he makes a sacrificial move with his last pawn. His voice drips with a hint of emotion that the ginger can’t quite put a name to.
Ah, that’s right.
Grief.
“Then why do you look sad?” Childe gazes at the lone pawn which stands on the center of the board. The intention is clear, yet he is left with no choice but to take it. He shifts his piece to take one of the enemy’s ministers. He removes it from the board and takes the piece as his prize.
“Zhongli, you can’t replace grief with new and happier memories. You have to face it head on. Process it, and move on.” Childe takes a decisive move, as with his remark which would be hard to swallow.
“Must I?” A hint of a smile crawls by the edge of the brunet’s lips while he takes the ginger’s most prized piece — the chariot. “I’m rather content with the valuable time that I get to spend with you.”
Childe clicks his tongue, falling for his taunt. Damn him. That silver tongue and his sugar coated words must’ve made him a sought after match by many omegas. After a moment of silence, he finally asks. “Was it an omega?”
“Yes,” Zhongli answers, calm and unflinching. “But she is not my omega, she was just a dear friend to many, including myself.”
Childe ignores the unsettling feeling which takes root in his stomach. He maintains his gaze on the chessboard while he concentrates on the competition at hand.
“How do you know that she wasn’t yours?”
Tic.
The piece lands on the board gently.
“Because she belonged with another, who now threads her life without her muse.”
Tac.
“Hmm, I haven’t met the one so it’s hard to understand.”
Toc.
“I suppose if I have to give an example. For myself, it would be someone like you.”
Thump.
Childe freezes with a piece that hovers over the board. His heart leaps in his chest and for a moment, he has skipped a breath. The ginger purses his lips and maintains his gaze on the board. He grips his piece while toppling his enemy’s.
“Me? You’ve got to be kidding.” Childe snorts. “Haven’t you heard the rumors? I’m unruly. I crave battle and beat people up.”
“Yet, in my eyes you are also beautiful and kind,” Zhongli says, his words travelling as clear as day. Even at this moment, it is hard to discern the intention behind his words and the emotions which lie beneath those sunset eyes.
“Checkmate.”
Zhongli declares his overwhelming victory.
Childe stares at the board, and a bitter expression forms over his features. He presses his lips into a thin line and turns silent. It may just be a friendly game of chess, but the nature of the game plays no part in the inevitable outcome. It does not change the fact that the brunet has a hold on him, causing his composure to falter and lose the game.
Despite his crushing defeat, the only thing which occupies the ginger’s mind is the alpha’s earlier compliment. The way in which he had boldly declared his fondness for the omega was really…something.
“Thank you for the game,” the harbinger mutters.
Childe chooses to dismiss the earlier compliment but his heart betrays him, tightening in his chest and causing a subtle, rosy hue to form on his cheeks. He clenches his fingers into tight fists. At that moment, the harbinger can only hope that this misguided feeling will soon come to pass.
Liyue: Nation of Gold, Autumn
A vibrant gingko tree crowns the peak of a hill which lies behind the academy. There, Childe opens his eyes, his delicate lashes casting shadows over his flushed cheeks. He remembers enticing the brunet with a bottle of osmanthus wine and a mischievous grin on his lips. Then, they made their way beneath the lush gingko tree and exchanged cups to swear upon their lifelong bond.
The rest comes in a blur.
A broad and sun-kissed hand strokes his head gently. “Childe, why do you continue to fight?” Zhongli asks.
“I’m adept with most weapons but I want to get stronger.” Childe nuzzles against his palm. Perhaps it is due to the alcohol in his system, but he gravitates towards the warm touch. “I still have duties to fulfill back home,” he murmurs. The harbinger props himself and grabs the bottle, pouring himself another cup.
“Right. We do have our future beyond this academy.” Zhongli’s gaze lingers beyond the horizon. “Speaking of the future, someday you’ll find a partner who’s befitting of your status. When that time comes, you have to invite me to your wedding.”
Childe stares at the sullen reflection on his cup. He swirls his drink and drawls in an absentminded manner. “Must I?”
“Of course, we’ve sworn an oath over a cup of wine. We vowed to always be there for each other,” Zhongli reiterates the importance of their promise.
The harbinger traces the delicate rim of his cup. How can he agree knowing what lies ahead in their future? Soon, Zhongli will marry a wonderful omega. An omega who is beautiful and kind, who smells of flowers and grace, instead of blood, sweat and the foul stench of the abyss.
Childe downs the content of his cup, drowning the unsavory ideas with the bitter taste of alcohol. Before he even has the chance to reply, a rumbling noise echoes from the dark clouds above.
“Looks like rain will be pouring soon. We’d best be on our way,” Zhongli says, his attention shifting to the bottle of drinks and cups. He begins to clean up the evidence.
Childe lifts his palm as droplets of rain begin to pour over them, then his eyes widened in realization. The artificial scent will wear off if he’s washed by the rain. The ginger springs onto his feet and hurriedly gathers the items onto the mat which he then ties together with a knot and sling over his shoulder.
“Let’s hurry, Zhongli! We have to get going!”
Childe urges in haste. The brunet nods his head and the pair makes their way back to the resting grounds.
“This way.”
Zhongli grabs his wrist and pulls him to the back of a warehouse. They set their backs against the walls. The harbinger observes a passing guard until he is out of sight. A sigh escapes from the ginger’s lips.
“I think we’re safe for now.”
Childe turns on his feet and bumps into the brunet, two bodies drenched in water colliding against the other. He rubs his forehead and takes a step back. The ginger quirks a brow at the man who stands silent and motionless like a rock.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Childe grabs onto the brunet’s sleeves, his tone laced with genuine concern. He can feel the brunet’s arm visibly stiffened from the touch. For a heartbeat, the ginger is caught in a trance, his gaze lost in the golden halos curling inwards, carving dark irises into perilous slits.
Childe tenses as a shiver runs down his spine and cold sweat starts to form on his nape. This must be how a prey would feel like when caged with a beast. Still, he parts his lips hesitantly.
“Zhongli…?”
The brunet flinches. He withdraws and pinches the spot between his eyebrows, his eyelids pressed tightly.
“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Zhongli murmurs. He opens his eyes and gazes at the other tenderly. The sight of his friend reminds him of a drenched, wild fox. With a newfound smile on his lips, the brunet brushes his wet bangs and plants a kiss on his forehead. “You should head in, Childe.”
Childe turns his head away, abashed. The spot where he is kissed feels as if it has been lit aflame despite the rain. For him, the night turned out to be too much, and yet somehow still not enough at the same time. It’s cold, and the liquid courage in his system urges him to grab onto the brunet’s collar and share their heat — from their lips to their chests, their bodies joined until dawn rises. Just then, a different sensation of wetness runs between his thighs. Childe lowers his gaze to the ground, ashamed of the thought that runs through his mind. He takes a step back, the sole of his boots stepping over a carefully tucked letter. The harbinger blinks at the sight and inspects the letter carefully. With a frown on his lips, he rips the letter open and reads its content. His hands form creases on the paper from how tight he holds it. An indescribable feeling twists in his gut, lumping and catching up in his throat.
“Childe? Is everything alright?”
Zhongli asked, his question bearing concerns. The ginger takes a breath and lowers the letter. After a somber moment, he finally answers.
“The queen orders for my return.”
“You didn’t have to walk me all the way to the edge of the nation. Don’t you have classes to go to?” Childe huffs. He didn’t even have much to bring, aside from a sling bag filled with his belongings.
“Missing a few classes shouldn’t matter,” Zhongli brushes off nonchalantly.
“Oh, I’m such a bad influence on you.”
Childe smirks devilishly. Though as more time passes and their journey comes to an end, he finds it harder to form his goodbyes. The atmosphere grows heavier with every step. Still, he keeps a smile on his lips and continues their reminisce, because that is the sort of friend that he wants to be remembered as. After the long journey, they finally arrive at a pavilion.
This is where they must part ways.
“Childe, do you recall the two of us mentioning marriage?”
“Yeah?”
“I have a different perspective,” Zhongli says. “I believe that there is happiness that comes from finding and being with the one that you truly love.”
“Do you really think so…?” Childe murmurs.
“My clan believes so, and I am no different.”
“Hmm, you’re pretty romantic for an alpha.” A teasing smirk forms on the ginger’s lips. His taunt is unexpectedly met with an amused smile. “Aren’t you, as well?”
“Not all alphas can do what I can, that’s for certain,” Childe says with pride. There may be a chance that he has exposed himself, but he chooses not to take that back. The ginger shifts his gaze to his dear friend, only to realize that despite the silence, neither of them are actually willing to be the first to part ways.
Childe’s expression glazes with a hint of vulnerable emotion. For once, he wants to be seen for who he is. Is this what it means to yearn? he thinks. The realization dawns late in their chapter.
“You are truly one of a kind,” Zhongli whispers.
Childe can no longer pretend to ignore the brunet’s influence over him. Warmth crawls up to his ears as he struggles to form a proper sentence. For the first time, he wishes that he can tell him the truth. Then Zhongli won’t need to find another omega and he wouldn’t need to be wed to another alpha either.
They can be bound together, not just by an oath of friendship, but an oath of love.
“What am I to you?” Childe whispers, the quiet of his voice muffled by a gust of wind and the rustle of leaves. As it disperses, Zhongli asks, “Did you say something, Childe?”
Childe falls silent. He plasters a smile and shakes his head to dismiss his earlier words as a mistake.
“Hey, Zhongli. What do you think about meeting my omega brother?”
“A brother?”
“Yeah, he’s my twin so I’m sure you’ll make a good pair.” Childe maintains his smile. The brunet does not seem interested, but he has to convince him somehow. Otherwise, he has no other excuse to see him in the future. As a last resort, he adds to his request a sweet and simple, “Please?”
Zhongli parts his lips but he can’t quite form the right words. At last, he nods his head. “If that is your wish.”
“You promised. You’ll have to come see me then.” Childe beams as he holds out a hand for a handshake. The brunet shakes his hand firmly, his expression mirroring the ginger’s. “I promise, Childe.”
Snezhnaya: The Everwinter Nation
Marriage.
He supposes he’s been avoiding it for far too long.
Childe stares at his reflection in the mirror. Then, he shifts his gaze to an ornate hairpin which sits on the dressing table. It’s beautiful, with a pure cor lapis gem as its centerpiece. He reaches out to touch the gem and his gaze softens at its familiar, amber shine.
The Tsaritsa has picked the best partner for a diplomatic relationship, and the wedding will take place in three months. As the thought runs through his mind, a whisper of night air brushes against his skin.
Childe rises from his seat and turns to the balcony where the door is opened and a lone figure stands, wordless as he is veiled behind the curtains. The harbinger’s lips part with an austere warning.
“Turn back.”
A moment of silence hangs in the air. Perhaps from the thousands of words which cannot and should not be conveyed between the two. A torrent of feelings and emotions, both sweet and bitter, which had been bottled within.
Childe furrows his brows. Even at this moment, he cannot help but ponder what sort of expression the brunet shrouds beneath that curtain.
“My prospective partner is someone who is capable of expanding the Fatui’s network by leaps and bounds. He requested for a strong omega to protect his territory and future progenies,” Childe speaks, his voice unwavering as he distances himself from his own emotions. “I hope you understand that I can’t miss out on a marriage with such benefits.”
Pale moonlight sifted through shifting clouds, casting the silhouettes of two figures. The wind stirred–not with fury but like a gentle sigh drifting through the branches. Beneath the quiet breath of the night, a veil of silence falls between them.
“It didn’t matter that we were both alphas. When we parted under that pavilion, I wanted to take your hand and ask you to run away with me,” Zhongli confesses, his warm breath brushing against the shell of the ginger’s ear like a sweet and loving caress. “Childe, come with me and be my omega.”
Childe whirls around, his eyes wide and his heart misses a beat at the inhumane speed with which the brunet appeared behind him. A calloused hand lands gently on his cheek, like a butterfly finding home atop the petal of a flower. Clear pools of blue meet with tender ambers. At that moment the omega saw his own reflection, his auburn hair draped with the sheer white veil of the curtain, appearing nothing short of ethereal in the eyes of the beholder.
Childe grits his teeth and snaps back with a swift reply.
“I refuse."
Seeing the halos of gold constrict in the brunet’s eyes, the harbinger knows that he has to put a stop to it immediately. Before Zhongli can utter another word, he forms a hydro dagger and points it at his own neck.
Zhongli’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“My life belongs to the queen. I swore an oath to her.” Childe stands his ground, resolute as the sharpness of his blade glints underneath the moonlight. Catching the hurt mirrored in the brunet’s eyes, the harbinger musters one final smile. “…But, you can have my heart. Only then can I promise you till death do we part.”
Liyue: Nation of Gold, Autumn
The day of the wedding arrives, and the conditions couldn’t have been worse. The procession comes to a halt when a storm brews and tremors can be felt on the ground.
“Stop,” the harbinger orders.
“Lord harbinger, we won’t be able to make it to the wedding if we wait any longer,” says one of the agents.
“I won’t be repeating my order. We are stopping the procession now.” Childe leaves the carriage and passes his subordinates without a care. “Take shelter if you don’t want to die.”
“Understood.” The Fatui agent bows with due respect.
Childe steps on the muddy ground, disregarding the earth and puddle which clings onto the train of his lavish robes and pristine boots. Like a shackle, they adorn his feet as they take him to a graveyard. Of all the names and titles which are engraved on the tombstone, one in particular makes his heart lurch.
‘Zhongli.’
Dragons feel neither fatigue nor hunger. They were supposed to be immortal. But the truth is that their hearts no longer belonged to them the moment they acknowledged their fated mate.
A few weeks ago, the geo dragon was found dead, kneeling on the snow in front of the Zapolyarny palace. At some point during the night, he had breathed his last.
Childe remembered screaming and crying over his hunched and lifeless figure. The aftermath came in a blur. How many droplets of tears rolled down his cheeks before the Fatui eventually tore them apart? Just how many times did he close his eyes, consumed by extreme fatigue, only to remember those amber eyes, devoid of the life and love that they once held for him?
The harbinger clenches his fingers into tight fists. “Is this what you wanted? Was it your wish to leave me behind in this mortal world?!” he shouts.
“If you knew that I was the one, then why didn’t you profess your love earlier?” Childe does not spare a breath, his voice splitting through the thunderous wrath of the raging storm. His lips quiver and he falls to his knees. The harbinger’s nails scrape on the ground. No. He never wanted to blame the dead. If anything, “Why did you have to fall in love with a spineless bastard like me?! You should loathe me, curse me and drag me to hell with you!”
On the day when they discovered the lifeless body of his alpha — he should have died with him. Then, at least, he can be with him in his grave. Tears streamed down his face and despair engulfs him with every shallow breath that escapes his pale lips.
“My alpha,” Childe chokes out a shaky breath. His heart, once full and beats for him, now squeezes tightly in his chest, rotten and inflicted with a disease of no cure. “If you still love me then take me away. Please…!”
At that moment, the tearful wish of the dragon’s mate pierces through the heavens. An ear-splitting cry, a fierce clap of thunder echoes in the sky. The ground rumbles violently, creating a bottomless rupture. The harbinger gazes into the sweet and welcoming void.
His heart beats rapidly. Yes, just like that day when he came for him. This time, the answer is clear.
Childe grabs the hem of his gown and jumps into the fissure.
Liyue: Nation of Gold, Winter
Childe’s body is never found. But a single flower blossoms underneath the gingko tree where fate intertwines. A pair of crystalflies, golden and blue, flutters their wings and flies off into the heavens.