Work Text:
What was it that made Gods be considered Gods? That was a question that plagued Zandik’s mind long before he ascended into Godhood. All over Teyvat, there were deities with different origins—some had been born as divine entities, others, such as himself, gathered power and elevated their status through their own efforts, and there were also those who were simply blessed by the heavens above.
There were many ways to become a God. But, it was still a mystery what exactly was a God.
Was it their power? Zandik would disagree. There were plenty of deities who could be compared to mere mortals in terms of strength. They found it difficult to concentrate their energy, easily defeated in battle, and easily killed as a consequence. They were the first to die during times of war, as unfortunate as it was. So, no. It wasn’t power that made Gods be seen as Gods.
If so, then the delicate being before him wouldn't be worshipped as a God.
“What brings you here, Kunikuzushi?” Zandik asked the supposed deity who visited his shrine. Among the Gods, Kunikuzushi was by no means the weakest, but he was not known for his might.
He was the Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom, or to his followers, the Shouki no Kami. From his title alone, it was apparent that his greatest asset was his mind. But, what use was his brilliance when he lacked power, coupled with his worshippers dwindling in numbers? He was the perfect prey for other deities who wanted to expand their territory by conquering that of the defenseless.
“I’ve come to seek an alliance,” Kunikuzushi replied as he set down an offering onto Zandik’s altar. It was the first offering he had ever received.
And, wasn’t that interesting?
It was rare for anyone to seek him out. Since his birth, he had always been seen as an outcast. Back when he was still human, his own village chased him out. Now that he had ascended, he was often avoided by other deities and mortals, who were all aware of his rotten reputation.
The Heretic of the False Moon. That was what he called himself. The False Moon God. That was what everybody else referred to him as. For he had stolen his divinity from his predecessor—had slaughtered her with his own two hands and gained control over her domain after creating an artificial substitute for her connection to the moon beyond Teyvat’s false sky.
With such a background, nobody wanted anything to do with him. He didn’t even have a single follower. Only the most ruthless of Gods were willing to associate with him, and even then, none of them entertained him. Not even the most desperate of mortals dared to approach him. It was a pity, really.
So, this? Kunikuzushi, beautiful, yet despairing, kneeled at his feet? It surprised him. Was it that he had no other options? Surely, another deity would have accepted his offer of an alliance long before he came to him.
Who wouldn’t want Kunikuzushi?
“Oh?” Zandik pursed his lips, “An alliance, huh? Quite a sudden offer. Is something the matter in your domain?”
He crouched down and tilted Kunikuzushi’s chin so that their gazes met. He watched as long dark hair cupped around Kunikuzushi’s face, well-brushed, but somewhat disheveled, which showed that he was distressed. It was quite unlike his typically pristine appearance.
Kunikuzushi clenched his fists. They curled tightly around the pool of silk fabric that composed his clothing.
“I’ve heard whispers of a rebellion who want to overthrow me and replace me with a lesser God. As much as I hate to admit it, I lack the strength to resolve this matter on my own.” Kunikuzushi scowled as he darted his eyes away from Zandik’s burning stare. Ah. So that was the situation he was in. It was no wonder that he seemed so ashamed when he first talked to him.
“Why me then?” Because, weren’t there other Gods who Kunikuzushi was more comfortable with? Weren’t there other Gods who saw value in his intelligence and would happily accept him as an ally?
“There’s no one else who I can trust…” Kunikuzushi had a bitter expression grace his features, “Many among my so-called acquaintances were a part of the conspiracy against me. They only saw me as an easy target. They pretended to care about me, but in secret, they’ve been scheming to eventually betray me in order to steal my domain and followers for themselves.”
Zandik raised a brow.
He supposed that he should have expected that. Deities were fickle, after all. Though not all had a horrific history as he did, they still had a penchant for treachery. Which was why most alliances between Gods lasted only for a short while.
“What makes you think that I won’t betray you too? I can so easily do the same as they did; help you with this little problem to gain your trust, only to then stab you in the back once all is said and done,” Zandik pointed out.
Kunikuzushi huffed, “At least your knife is on display. It’s much better than those who hide theirs under the guise of friendship.”
“I see.” Zandik pursed his lips, “And, if I refuse? I don’t see any benefits in allying with you.”
He didn’t intend to threaten Kunikuzushi. He was simply curious as to how he would react. Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched something flickered behind Kunikuzushi’s eyes. He may not have wavered at his taunt, but the desperation he tried hard to bury made itself known. Still, his mind remained as sharp as ever.
“My domain borders yours. If the rebellion succeeds and I’m replaced by a lesser God, you’ll be surrounded by an unstable, contested territory. Haven’t you heard? Chaos breeds opportunity. Many Gods hunger to expand their territory, even if it's by a bit. Who’s to say that you’re to be spared from the conflict?” Kunikuzushi’s voice turned much colder as his calculating nature was revealed.
Zandik chuckled low at his throat. There it was, the mind that had earned Kunikuzushi his title. Even when he was cornered and humiliated, he was still capable of making himself seem beneficial.
“Hadn’t I been an accommodating neighbor? Since your rise to power, I never made any attempts on your life. In fact, I’ve gone out of my way to ensure that those under my rule respect the boundary between our domains. And, you know how many want you dead for the many crimes you’ve committed,” Kunikuzushi continued, doing all that he could to present himself as someone useful, someone who Zandik should prefer over any possible replacement.
A hum rumbled deep in Zandik’s chest. He straightened back up to his full height, standing tall as he then circled around Kunikuzushi slowly.
“An accommodating neighbor…” Zandik murmured, “Is that what you’d call it?”
He supposed that it was true, in the dullest sense of the word. Kunikuzushi hadn’t moved against his borders. He didn’t test the edges of his territory in the way that many other deities delighted in doing. But, Zandik was aware that restraint wasn’t kindness. It was nothing more than an act of self-preservation. For, even if Kunikuzushi had been a God for much longer than him, he still lacked the power to truly contest the divine.
Zandik picked a fragile flower that bloomed on a nearby branch. He gave it a sniff, admiring its scent, before he looked back at Kunikuzushi. He began, “You indeed were an… accommodating neighbor. However, what’s in it for me if I am to ally with you?”
“Tell me what you want. I’ll see if it’s within my means to give it to you.” Kunikuzushi’s jaw tightened.
“Careful,” Zandik warned, though he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the circumstances, “Offering such to a God like me is dangerous. You could end up losing a lot more than your territory with such a deal.”
“I’m aware of what I’m risking.” Defiance was written all over Kunikuzushi’s face. His eyes resembled a bright flame with how much ire it contained.
“Still. Why come to a monster?”
“Because, I’ve come to realize that a monster is the only one who has yet to break my trust.” Kunikuzushi placed his hand over his chest, right above where his heart sat within his ribcage.
Silence settled between them. It seemed thicker than the incense smoke that curled near the untouched offering at the altar. Zandik studied Kunikuzushi for a moment.
A familiar question ran through his mind. Could it be that it was their determination that made deities be regarded as divine? Was it how their every word managed to move even the most stubborn of people? Zandik didn’t know as he never had the opportunity to converse with others aside from the rare instance where he idly chattered with the neighboring Gods near his domain. He wondered if Kunikuzushi had always had a way with words.
Zandik’s eyes gleamed.
“Get up,” He said at last, extending a hand down toward Kunikuzushi, “Kneeling doesn’t suit you. You were never meant to grovel to a monster like me. Who ever heard of allies kneeling to each other?”
A sigh of relief escaped Kunikuzushi. His body wasn’t as tense as he held onto Zandik’s hand. A shiver ran down Zandik’s spine.
That was where it all began.
An alliance born out of desperation. Zandik tightened his grip on Kunikuzushi as he guided him into his domain so that nobody would intrude upon them while they finalized the details of their newfound partnership. It was the first time in so long that someone had touched him.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
A month had passed since their alliance formed.
In that time, Zandik had come to learn a great deal about Kunikuzushi. Much more than he had thought he would, with how sparse their following meetings were so as to not raise any suspicions within their enemies. It seemed that the rebellion was not to be underestimated.
No matter how rotten his reputation was, Kunikuzushi still sought him out, and for good reason. His enemies were patient, embedded so deeply within his own court that it was difficult to root them all out. This was a problem that brute strength alone couldn’t solve. It required the kind of deliberate cruelty that Zandik excelled in, paired with the cunning that Kunikuzushi possessed plenty of.
Together, they made quite the pair.
“You’re staring again,” Kunikuzushi said one evening. He didn’t bother to look up from the documents that he was reviewing—a list of names whose blood would soon stain Zandik’s violent hands.
“Am I not allowed to admire my ally?”
“You could at least pretend to be subtle about it.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?” Zandik leaned down after he walked to stand behind Kunikuzushi. His shadow fell over the parchment as he grinned, “I’ve never been one for pretense. You should appreciate that, no?”
Kunikuzushi’s quill paused, just for a second, “I suppose I do…”
It was admitted in the silence of the night. It was enough to cause Zandik’s smile to widen, revealing all his sharp teeth, “Careless words like that could be misconstrued as fondness. My, oh my. Have I somehow wormed my way into your cold heart?”
“Bite your tongue if you have nothing important to say to me. You truly are insufferable,” Kunikuzushi huffed as he then rolled his eyes. The corners of his mouth, however, twitched, betraying his true feelings.
“Yet, you tolerate me. That says more about you than it does about me, doesn’t it?” Zandik mused as he rested his chin atop Kunikuzushi’s head. That act would have earned him a sharp rebuke when they were still nothing more than neighboring deities. Now though, Kunikuzushi merely stiffened, but did nothing to push him away.
Kunikuzushi raised his free hand and began to play with Zandik’s long, blue hair. He twirled his locks around his finger, curling them tight without pulling on them.
“It says that I have questionable taste in allies.”
Zandik snorted, “Don’t you?”
“…I do.” Kunikuzushi sounded so tired. During the month since their alliance was formed, he grew more and more exhausted. He had spent countless nights scheming on how to protect himself. Oftentimes, he would be drained of all his energy and be forced to rest within the safety of Zandik’s territory.
It was far from an ideal arrangement. Zandik’s makeshift home lacked the barest of comfort, and it was apparent how much Kunikuzushi missed his own bed. This was for the best though, since there was a high likelihood that if Kunikuzushi were to rest in his own temple, he would be assassinated by his enemies. And so, Zandik did his best to keep Kunikuzushi as comfortable as possible.
Kunikuzushi was no doubt a weak God. If he possessed even half of Zandik’s strength, then he wouldn’t need to physically sleep just to recover. It was no wonder that he was deemed to be easy prey by his enemies.
“You should rest now,” Zandik said.
“I’m not tired,” Kunikuzushi refuted, but the dark circles beneath his eyes proved otherwise.
“If you don’t rest, then you’ll only waste away. I can take over from where you left off.” Zandik took the documents away from Kunikuzushi, who initially grumbled, but did as he was told in the end. He stood up, walked to the cot in the corner of the room.
Zandik dimmed the lights.
“I just want this to be over already…” Kunikuzushi would mumble as he laid down.
The window was wide open. The pale moonlight reached him, shining bright as it caressed his skin. Zandik had to close his eyes and take in a deep breath just so that he wouldn’t be distracted. It would have been so easy to kill Kunikuzushi right then and there. He was at the height of his power, with the full moon resting atop the night sky.
He could betray Kunikuzushi and conquer his territory if he so wanted. Yet, he didn’t. Why was that? He recalled how he overthrew his predecessor and ended the lives of her remaining followers. It required not much effort on his end to do the same to Kunikuzushi.
There was nobody who could stop him. Kunikuzushi had no one to protect him, for his only ally was Zandik, while his followers were none the wiser to his current plight.
Zandik could ruin him.
And, oh, was he tempted. There were times in the past where he would linger near Kunikuzushi. He watched as he slept, occasionally tracing his finger down his jaw, and thinking to himself how simple it would be… if he were to concentrate the moon’s power into his palm and unleash it into Kunikuzushi’s chest… divine ichor would then spill on his hands, adding treachery to his long list of sins.
But, not once did he entertain the idea. It remained deep in his mind, kept a secret from his ally, who had already been betrayed time and time again. Perhaps, it was out of pity that he never acted against Kunikuzushi.
“Good night. May you have a peaceful slumber,” Zandik said as Kunikuzushi made himself comfortable, covering his entire body with a thin blanket.
Kunikuzushi shifted to his side. His back was now facing Zandik as he lulled himself to sleep.
This soon became a familiar routine. It wasn’t every day that Kunikuzushi visited Zandik. There were times when he stayed within his territory, pretending to be none the wiser to the rebellion brewing in his midst. He continued to answer the prayers of his followers, listening to their concerns as they worshipped him in turn. He would only come to Zandik every few days, never staying for more than half a day, keeping their contact limited most of the time. But, when he did go to meet Zandik, he did well to brighten his mood even without doing much.
On the surface, they were simply neighboring Gods who had a neutral, mostly non-existent relationship. Deep into the night however, they would whisper secrets into each other’s ears, plotting to save Kunikuzushi’s life.
“Why not just kill all those within the rebellion? With them gone, all your troubles will disappear,” Zandik asked one night. Before him, Kunikuzushi shook his head.
“Others will simply rise against me in their place. That’s the nature of a rebellion born from resentment. It would also do me no favors to paint myself as a cruel God with my current strength. They will view such a massacre as me losing control. That can’t happen,” Kunikuzushi said in response, to which Zandik conceded. He had a point, and who was Zandik to contest his wisdom?
But, he also had another idea.
He wrapped his arms around Kunikuzushi’s neck, “What if we combine our domains? No other God would ever challenge you with me around. They’re all afraid of me, which I never did understand why.”
“Of course you don’t,” Kunikuzushi scoffed, “And, no. I refuse to combine our domains.”
Zandik buried his face into his shoulder, “Oh? Why not?”
“Whatever respect I have will be lost. They’ll believe that you overthrew me and for some strange reason, kept me alive, rather than think that we formed an alliance. I won’t stand for such humiliation.” There it was. It didn’t matter how weak Kunikuzushi truly was. His pride was similar to that of the other Gods. The very same pride that resulted in the downfall of many more before him.
Was it pride that differentiated Gods from mortals?
He hoped not. He, too, may be arrogant, but he never saw himself as invincible. He knew that, one day, in the hopefully distant future, he would be defeated by another deity once his power had waned significantly.
It was an endless cycle. Gods rose. Gods fell, replaced by someone new, or someone old. They would inevitably meet their demise. It was only a matter of when.
Zandik wanted to push away such thoughts.
“You don’t want to be seen as mine?” His tone sounded playful despite the pit that formed in his stomach.
“I’ll never belong to anyone.”
Kunikuzushi crossed his arms. That made Zandik laugh as he tightened his embrace around him. To think that it was only recently that they became allies. For centuries, they had bordered on each other’s territories, yet it was only now that became anything more than neighbors.
Zandik wished that this would never end. How long had it been since someone last kept him company? When was the last time someone allowed him to touch them without apprehension?
What was this feeling? He didn’t quite understand, but that was alright. He would figure it out in due time. As a God, he had all the time in the world, after all.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
“…Kunikuzushi?” Zandik almost lost his breath, not that it mattered since he had no need to breathe, when he saw Kunikuzushi’s current state.
Beaten and bloodied—there was a stab wound directly at his chest, dripping with ichor, along with the other injuries that littered his skin. He rushed to catch him when he fell to his knees. His legs had given out completely, leaving him a vulnerable mess within Zandik’s arms, incapable of even standing up on his own. Zandik touched the wound on his chest, gathering energy within his palm, as a silver glow seeped past his fingers.
“What happened?” Zandik demanded, though the answer was already obvious. It was written all over Kunikuzushi’s ruined form.
“I… was careless…” Kunikuzushi choked out. There was blood rising from his throat, “They… tried to…”
Kunikuzushi could barely keep his eyes open.
“Save your words. I’ll fix this, I promise you.” Zandik did his best to keep his panic all to himself. He pressed his hand harder against Kunikuzushi’s chest as he willed his power to seal his grievous injuries. It was difficult for him to do so. He was more attuned to destruction, so healing was entirely foreign to him. Still, he didn’t waver.
“Zandik…” Kunikuzushi pulled on his clothes.
“I said save your words,” Zandik repeated, quieter this time, “You need every last bit of your strength. So, don’t waste it on talking to me.”
How long did it take? Hours had passed since he began to heal Kunikuzushi. It was a slow process, but he didn’t mind, just as long as he could save his ally. He brought him inside his home, laying him down so that he could be comfortable in spite of the pain. It was the first time in so many centuries that Zandik felt such panic. As a deity, he was without any worries. As a partner of a much weaker God, he feared losing him one day.
He tensed at the thought. He had to assure himself that Kunikuzushi was going to be fine. His wounds were deep and his life force was depleted, but he would survive.
Kunikuzushi had to.
Zandik wouldn’t have it any other way.
Hours bled into days. Eventually, Kunikuzushi stabilized enough that he no longer needed to be sustained by the divinity that Zandik imparted in his veins. He was deep asleep, regaining his power all on his own after Zandik had exhausted himself just to save him. It would take a long time before he would wake once more, for even if his physical injuries had been healed, there was poison that contaminated his very blood. His enemies had been thorough. They really wanted him dead.
That enraged Zandik. As he recovered his energy, he watched over Kunikuzushi’s frail form.
Who did the rebellion think they were? How dare they do this Kunikuzushi. Had Kunikuzushi ever wronged them to such a degree that they had no choice but to conspire with other Gods just to overthrow him? Wasn’t he one of the more generous deities in Teyvat? Weak, yet entirely devoted to his worshippers. Has he ever done anything to deserve such a fate?
Zandik clenched his fists. Never mind that Kunikuzushi had once disapproved of blindly killing his enemies.
Kunikuzushi was near death’s door.
He almost died, even with all the wisdom in the world.
It irritated Zandik when he watched from a distance as Kunikuzushi’s domain was taken over—brought to ruin by the rebellion, devolving into a bloodied battleground where minor deities fought for even a sliver of new land as Kunikuzushi’s followers were left for dead.
They would pay. Zandik swore that he would make them all regret ever targeting Kunikuzushi.
It was during the full moon that he struck. He had entirely recovered by then, brimming with divine energy when he struck what used to be Kunikuzushi’s territory with a pale beam of pure moonlight. He made sure to wreak havoc, leaving none standing as he ended their miserable lives one by one. He savored the way the mortals screamed, experiencing the wrath of a vengeful God for the first and last time in their pathetic lives.
Meanwhile, the other deities tried to fight him off. Only for their efforts to end in vain because compared to Zandik’s mania, they were nothing but mere ants. Zandik easily squashed them beneath his boot, relishing the way they begged to be spared.
“How audacious! I wonder, did Kunikuzushi also beg for his life, only for you to ignore his cries?” Zandik couldn’t help but chuckle as he spat at them all.
“Had we known you were allies, we—”
“What? You wouldn’t have betrayed him?! It’s too late for any regrets now.” Zandik killed them all. Once everything was said and done, he was covered in blood that wasn’t his own. He claimed Kunikuzushi’s territory for himself, hoping to return it to him in the future.
He committed a massacre. Rumors spread. According to the Gods who knew nothing of what truly happened, this was him vying for more power by killing Kunikuzushi and stealing his domain.
Teyvat believed Kunikuzushi to be dead. They believed that it was Zandik who ended his life. Oh how wrong they were, but Zandik didn’t bother to correct them.
For what was the point?
Let them believe what they wanted to believe.
It was better this way. Nobody would bother Kunikuzushi if they all thought that he was long dead. He continued to slumber in Zandik’s home, curled into himself on his cot, appearing more fragile than he ever did.
Zandik didn’t know what to do. What more could he do but wait for Kunikuzushi to wake? How long would that even take? Kunikuzushi’s injuries had been… severe, having almost killed him had he not interfered. It would take a minimum of years for him to completely recover, especially with the remaining poison in his system that Zandik was still working on to remedy.
For now, Zandik could only watch as he slept. To think that he once thought about betraying Kunikuzushi. He was far from the ideal ally, and yet, he was the only one who even held the slightest care for the weak God.
Kunikuzushi deserved to rest comfortably.
He deserved to be protected even for when Zandik was no longer around. Because, though Zandik was stronger than him, he had none of the sins that made Zandik both a pariah and a villain that many brave and foolish souls would attempt to defeat. Kunikuzushi deserved so much better than what Zandik could provide for him.
Under the moon’s gaze, Zandik worked. Back when he was still mortal, he excelled in creating machinery—a mastery that helped him to ascend to Godhood. It had been a while since he last had a project this grand, but for Kunikuzushi, he didn’t mind.
It was a gift for Kunikuzushi. An artificial body composed of metal imbued with divinity. It was much larger than his own body. If it were to stand, it would be much taller than even his own temple. It was made to house Kunikuzushi within its armor, to protect him no matter what. If Zandik were to perish one day, the artificial body would continue to care for Kunikuzushi in his stead.
“Live for me,” Zandik whispered into Kunikuzushi’s ear as he placed him inside his mechanical creation, “That’s all that I ask for as your ally. I already took care of the rest, so you can repay me by surviving.”
Kunikuzushi was cradled inside his new body.
Zandik sat on the artificial body’s open palm. Not once did his eyes leave Kunikuzushi. His back leaned against its curled fingers.
Perhaps, this was what made a God, after all. Not power, not pride, none of those superficial aspects.
Maybe, it was simply the stubbornness to survive.
Zandik sighed. The moon sure was bright that night. He stayed there, atop the artificial body’s cupped hands, until dawn arrived the following morning.