1

A certain year during the Archon War.

On a cliff at the borders of Liyue, Xiao stood silently, looking into the horizon.

When the sky began to lighten, the bedrock at the bottom the cliff started to tremble. Just like Morax had predicted, the spirits, demons, and deities of the area had taken a few weeks to lick their wounds and rest. And now it was time to strike again.

Xiao looked around. No other member of Morax’s faction had ventured this far into the borderlands from their patrol routes.

Xiao knew why he did, though he didn’t want to admit it. Not even to himself. He shrugged. He was used to fighting alone.

He unclipped his jade earring, gripped it when it morphed into his spear. He still could scarcely believe that he was allowed to touch something so pure. The spear his old Master had granted him had been made from the bones of the creatures Xiao had slain.

Needless to say, Xiao preferred his new spear. It was made of the purest jade, extracted from the deepest recesses of the earth. It was untainted and unrefined, so its surface was still rough.

Xiao was ready to make it silky smooth in his palm during his service to Morax.

But enough day-dreaming. Xiao spotted a creature slithering out of the bedrock. He adjusted his mask, walked off the cliff, angled his spear, and let himself fall. In the freefall he planned it all. Every second of the fight, every move he would make, he saw every curve of his spear dancing in the air, slicing into blood and rock.

But when he hit the ground, his opponent was launched into the air. Dust, dirt, and grass swirled in a whirlwind.

Oh, that’s right. He was a Vision-holder now. This new, strange yet familiar power that came so naturally to him despite having never trained with it. This power that felt free and unbridled like the ocean gale, that could let him jump as high as clouds and plunge back to earth without a second of fear.

Wasn’t this the first battle in which he wielded the power of Anemo? Time to stretch its limits then.

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Seven dawns later, the continuous skirmish started to weigh down on Xiao a bit.

His opponents hadn’t pulled some nifty tricks, he gave them that much.

He had lost too much time realizing what he could swirl and what he couldn’t, and where were the boundaries between harmony and discord in his two sets of powers.

One of the remaining deities had spawned mimics, but he couldn’t risk trying to swirl them. What if he couldn’t and the deity realized it? Xiao was starting to feel fatigue, the fight would turn nasty very quick.

No matter. He wouldn’t call the power of Anemo until he studied the dusty mimics more closely. By impaling them with his spear over and over. He just had not to die in the process.

However, in the placid morning a strange wind picked up suddenly.

Xiao saw the mimics, the particles of their geo auras, and the whole damned deities being swept up into the air and into… a black hole.

Xiao had no other words to describe the... unnatural abominable power that was suddenly manifesting in front of him.

The edges of the vortex were powered by Anemo, but the centre of the whirlwind was simply a giant mass of raw power that was currently tearing Xiao’s opponents apart.

Completely flabbergasted Xiao gaped at their useless struggling, heard them shrieking, and finally, felt the dust of their earthly remains adding a new layer on his skin, sticky with sweat.

Xiao swiped the gem dust from his eyes, and when he opened them, his opponents were no more. And so was the black hole.

They were simply… disintegrated. In a vortex of the darkest and strongest winds Xiao had ever witnessed.

Xiao grit his teeth and adjusted the grip on his spear. He didn’t stand a chance against this new foe, but by the Heavens, he would go down fighting.

He turned around, looking for his new opponent. Saw a boy standing on top of a cliff, bow poised. Then… the bow was lowered. And disappeared.

The boy raised a hand. Was he going to summon another black hole? Or allies?

“Hello~~!”

A silvery voice resounded in the valley.

Xiao stood, petrified, for what felt like an eternity.

???

The boy kept waving for a while, and eventually lowered his hand and walked away. As he walked out of Xiao’s line of sight, it was like reality smacked Xiao in the face.

Summoning Anemo, Xiao jumped, in a second he was on top of that cliff.

It felt like the world slowed down for a second.

The boy was standing calmly, his hands on his hips as if he had been waiting for Xiao to come up to him. A gentle gaze zoned in on Xiao’s mask, a soft smile, bright green eyes as resplendent as the glow on the boy’s hair.

When Xiao landed he felt like his mind, his emotions, his very soul were in a state of disarray. He didn’t know what the hell was going on. Was he bewitched? Had the boy cast a spell on him?

To calm himself down, Xiao tried to assess him as impersonally as he could.

The boy was dressed simply. Worn-out shoes and socks, shabby-looking trousers and tunic. His hat and coat mantel the dissonant elements. They looked like luxurious items. The hat was bright green, a white flower adorned it. Its radiant beauty looked ethereal. The mantel looked more worldly. It bore a big red coat of arms but was subtly patched in a few places. A hand-me-down from a wealthier relative? Charity? Or a gift from a chivalric friend.

The boy cradled a fine stringed instrument in his arms. Xiao had no idea what it was called or what sound it was supposed to produce, but even in his uncultured ignorance he knew that the craftsmanship was extremely fine. Stolen? Or another gift?

All in all the boy looked like a peasant who was regaled one or two fine things and seemed quite content with his lot in life. He didn’t emit any adeptal energy, any malicious or fighting intent, any aura.

Xiao started to second-guess that the boy had been the source of the awe-inducing blast of power he witnessed.

“Hello, dear stranger,” said the boy.

His voice was particularly melodious. As expected of a musician.

“How about we celebrate your victory with a celebratory song?“

Could he really have been the one…? No way…

Before Xiao was about to ask, the boy struck a chord of the musical instrument. Then another. Then another…

The sound that started to flow from the boy’s hands was… fucking awful!!!

“What the fuck are you doing?” asked Xiao, fighting off shivers.

Was this a foreign method of torture?

“Huh? Playing a grand celebratory song, of course! To celebrate the end of your battle!”

“There’s no end to battle, and… Stop! Ju-Just stop! Stop it!”

When the boy finally did, he had to gall to pout at Xiao. Pout! At Xiao, the killing machine who once put the fear of Heavens in all of Liyue with his mere shadow!

Xiao busied himself getting reacquainted with sweet, blessed natural sounds and pointedly ignored how plump and rosey the boy’s pouty lips looked.

Why was he focusing on the boy’s lips anyway? What was wrong with him? Was he delirious from over-exertion?

It never happened to him before, but it was the only logical explanation.

While Xiao was busy trying not to stare at the boy’s face, the sneaky bastard started playing again.

“I told you to stop!”

“But how can I get better if I don’t practice?!”

“Practice elsewhere! Why here? Why me?!”

“You look like a spirit. Or a deity. You must have been around for quite a while now, so you must know all sorts of melodies. And you looked like you’re the honest sort, so you’d tell me if I were terrible. But you’d also tell me if I improved! I’m going to become the best bard of all of Teyvat. So I’ve decided, I’ll play for you over and over until you bestow me with your highest compliments! When that day comes, I can call myself the best bard of Teyvat!”

Xiao stared at the impossible boy. The chipper young man seriously made a whole story in his mind, just like that.

Xiao was getting a headache just listening to him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and pointed his spear at the bard.

“Enough with your craziness. Who are you and where did you come from?”

“Craziness? I’m not crazy! I’m a perfectly sane bard at the beginning of his craft!”

“Name. Origin. Now.”

“Bossy… My name is not important. And I’m from Mondstadt.”

Xiao almost lifted his eyes to glance at the place the bard mentioned. But it would have been of no use. Xiao had been stationed at the border for weeks but nothing from the neighbouring area had changed.

It was a land of ice and snow and impenetrable storms. Streaks of light pierced its sky sometimes.

But the boy looked human… The only sentient beings who managed to cross the Mondstatian border were spirits, seelies, and deities.

Was the bard… No, a deity wouldn’t stoop so low to parade as mortals, wearing shoddy garments and learn something so base as human musical instruments.

“Stop lying! Where are you really from? Are you a spy from the country of the District of Lakes?”

“I told you I’m from-“

“You don’t look lupical. And no mortal enters or leaves the City of Storms. The Lord of Storms makes sure of that.”

“The City of Storms is no more. I thought word got out to Liyue by now?”

“What?”

“You didn’t see a caravan of Mondstadtians passing through the border a few weeks ago?”

… When did this happen? A few weeks ago? Xiao’s usual post was closer to the Great Peak, but he did try to pay attention to the frail wind-light steps of mortal, if only because anybody was capable of hurting gods if they had enough power or numerical advantage.

But he could admit to himself that he had been too busy paying attention to the tell-tale vibrations in the bedrock, the movements of the enemies…  He should have broadened his patrol, what if new enemies slipped in? What if-

“Hey! Stop that!”

“Absolutely not, you look like you’re in a terrible mood. Here, I’ll play something good to cheer you up!”

Before Xiao could retort, the lunatic mortal started playing a slow, simple melody. With stilted movements and uncertain notes, the music… was actually somewhat bearable.

Then the mortal started to sing.

Not the full-bodied notes Xiao overheard from encampments of mortals or fellow yakshas, but a sort of melodious speech, with a certain cadence to it, and rhymes.

It was a musical poem. It was the story of a city engulfed by perpetual storms. Its citizens didn’t know the sunlight, or the chirping of birds, or the gentle caress of springtime breezes. They knew the howling of the storm, the grey barrier of the Sovereign, the iron fist of the kingdom’s codex. But they rebelled. They fought. They won. And the barrier was shattered by the wind of Freedom.

When the bard stopped he looked up sheepishly.

“This song doesn’t count all right? I only know it because a friend of mine used to play it constantly. Seriously. It would be impossible not to know it by memory with how many times he played it. But I’ll learn how to make music on my own, promise!”

Xiao’s spear had lowered on it while he listened to the song of freedom. He willed it to disappear and turned around, towards the impenetrable grey that was the border with Mondstadt.

Freedom, huh.

“So the war broke out there too, huh.”

Xiao looked down at the bard, who was staring at the border too. His eyes darkened slightly, staring at the raging blizzard that was Mondstadt as if it personally offended him.

“The war…,” the bard murmured pensively.

“The Archon War. Not to embitter the victory of your people, but you must prepare yourself. Vision holders are the first to be recruited.”

“Vision holders huh. Do you know how they come to be?”

Xiao shrugged. “Nobody knows. There are only Electro and Anemo Visions around, but many warriors are trying to commune with their element of choice.”

“Commune? What do you mean?”

“Yeah. Meditate. Research. To wield the power of other elements. I don’t know. And I don’t want to know. I don’t care.”

“How did you obtain your Vision?”

In a nightmare, Xiao wanted to say. A nightmare of perpetual servitude and torture. The Vision materialized in his bloody palms at a time when it was either having an epiphany or death. The epiphany brought up the realization that he had a choice. For the first time in his life, he had a choice. Whether to follow Morax and repay a debt, or drift in the wide world with his newly found liberty. He had the freedom of choice.

“Doesn’t matter. If that black hole of winds was yours, prepare for battle. That’s all I meant to say.”

“Thank you for the warning. I have one of my own, actually. For you and your people.”

In a second, Xiao’s spear was back to its previous at the bottom of the bard’s throat.

“Ehi ehi, what happened to the sanctity of messengers?”

“Then state yours.”

The bard flashed a cheeky smile as a gentle breeze rustled his breaded hair.

“When the southern summer winds come to Liyue, they won’t stop outside the glacial barrier any more. They will continue their due course north, blow away all the snow and all the ice in Mondstadt. The people of Mondstadt will be safe, but the border of Liyue should be evacuated for safe measure. The caravan of Mondstadtians who preceded me carries the same message. I saw you standing guard here all alone, so I came to warn you myself.”

Xiao was thankful for the mask as he willed his spear to disappear. He knew his dedication to supervise the movements of Morax’s foes was good,… so why did he feel a bit embarrassed? As if he had been chided by a senior.

Whatever. Mortals were no concern of his. He’d tormented them enough when he did his old master’s bidding. He didn’t want anything to do with them anymore.

“Consider me warned. Now go!”

The bard smiled brightly, cradled his instrument firmly in his arm and curled his fingers.

“Do you want to hear some more of my music?”

“Absolutely not!”

“But it’s such a fine day,” whined the boy in a loud petulant tone that made Xiao’s eye tick. “You fought so bravely and for so long, you deserve to be graced with… mh… Ah! How about my exercises with scales! they’re my best-“

“SCRAM!”

With a stomp, Xiao turned around, but he was faced with the lush green grass, and a sudden  upward stream of wind.

Xiao looked up. The afternoon sky was blue and immense.

.

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2

The southern winds arrived in Liyue.

The border was successfully evacuated.

And as it had been forewarned, the northern part of the horizon became hotter and hotter. The borderlands were pelted by warm rain, the wind so hot it was almost uncomfortable. Xiao couldn’t start to imagine how was the situation inside Mondstadt.

Moreover, Xiao merely witnessed the beginning of these occurrences, and then by hearsay, for the war in Liyue raged on, and harsher than ever.

At the beginning Xiao didn’t understand why it seemed like suddenly all the spirits and deities started to get serious. Word came much later, when cliffs had been toppled, the tallest mountains had been ripped apart, the recesses of the ocean exploded, and new mountains were thrust upon the earth by near-godly powers.

Word came, that Mondstadt crowned an Archon with minimal bloodshed.

He was called Barbatos and wielded the power of Anemo.

In other reports, across the ocean the seemingly quiet archipelago of the Rising Sun had been ravaged by such powerful lightning that it split open whole mountains. And the victor of this conflict had also already produced an Archon, who named her lands Inazuma, after her own power. Rumours had it that the bloody throne of Inazuma did not know heaven nor earth, but was suspended in a perpetual magnetic field that electrocuted whoever dared look upon it. 

As Xiao saw Morax splitting reality open to summon spears as big as mountains to descend upon his foes, Xiao sometimes wondered how his new master would construct his own throne. Would it be set in the hardest, deepest rock, with veins of deities’ blood instead of ore…

Xiao huffed under his mask. It was not his place to think like that.

Because of his Vision and his acute eyesight, Xiao had to split his time between his border patrol and quick scouting trips of the inner lands. Sniffing out foes that went into hiding, dragging them out of their caves into the harsh light of the battlefield.

It was a thankless job because none of the other yakshas or adepti could keep up with Xiao’s pace. No matter. Xiao was used to fight alone.

As he decided that a moment’s break was enough, rain started to fall. Like some heavenly being opening a dam, droplets soon thickened into a grey veil of water.

Smells of rain already, thought Xiao, savouring the earthy smell.

He jumped off the tree and walked out of its branches’ range. The rain felt good on his heated skin and soon he was washed away of all the sweat and grime, feeling refreshed.

No reason to dwell here any longer, Xiao thought with a hinge of bitterness. But then, his ears caught something. It was a light, melodious sound. Xiao heard it somewhere in the past… The sound changed then, discordant, and finally descended into what could only be described as a stumbling mess of notes.

This unhearable mess could only be… The Mondstadtian bard!

It did not take long to locate the source of the hellish noise, even with the ruckus the rain was making.

The bard sat in one of those strange houses the mortals built. Temples they were called. They served an utterly bizarre function Xiao’s view. They were places where mortals prayed to the yakshas, the adepti, and the deities.

Xiao’s old master had told him, at the onset of the war, that until matters were settled in the great celestial realm, no prayer could reach the illuminated beings. Not until every land in Teyvat had a sovereign and the celestial realm had order again.

But the mortals of Liyue clearly didn’t know this, and kept building, and praying.

These so-called temples were scarce in furnishing. They usually had thread-bare pillows and blankets for the weary. They were adorned with a small altar of meagre offerings and little statues with the effigies of what the mortals thought the adepti and yakshas looked like. Since most of the information was passed around via word-of-mouth, most of the effigies were grossly inaccurate.

Xiao didn’t even try to parse through them to recognize his or his allies’. On one hand, he didn’t care about prayers. He wasn’t doing any of this for prayers or rewards. On the other hand… Some effigies were so monstrous that Xiao didn’t want to know if one of those was supposed to represent him.

In the temple the noise continued, but a melodious, sweet voice rose above it.

Through the branches of the Liyuean cherry

Blooming like a cloud which will rain

A rain white as the sun

The empty temple across the path

Cuts its square of light

And in it fight

Tiny figures, hot, irate,

Stuck in the golden cage of dust.

If only the bard’s notes matched the mellifluous tone of his voice…

“How come you still play so badly?”

The bard turned around then, and smiled so brightly that Xiao almost felt bad about his comment.

“If it isn’t my favourite Guardian Yaksha!”

The nerve of this bard… Xiao suddenly felt uncomfortably hot underneath his mask.

“Sh-Shut up!”

“What? I’m not joking, you know? You’re my favourite person!”

“Stop this nonsense!”

Now that Xiao looked closely, the bard looked weary, his gaze slightly unfocused. Xiao knelt beside him and sniffed the air. He didn’t smell like alcohol, infection, nor medicine.

“What are you doing?” asked the bard, blinking slowly.

Some of his hair was stuck to his sweaty temples, a stray strand was stuck across his cheek, the tip close to the corner of his mouth. Blinking green eyes peered at Xiao curiously. So big… And so close!

Xiao immediately pulled back when he realized how close he’d leaned. And why hadn’t the bard pulled back? Did he have no preservation instinct?

“What’s wrong with you, why do you look dead on your feet? Are you dying? Couldn’t you manage to learn proper music in the meantime?”

The bard blinked slowly, then laughed weakly with his head hung low to his chest before he threw it backwards, and then he kept falling and falling until he laid on the floor, laughing weakly.

“Oh heavens, I missed this,” said the boy in a weak, breathy chuckle. He gazed at Xiao so fondly that the yaksha got goosebumps all down his arms.

As if pulled by strings the bard suddenly shot forward, back to a sitting position. He regarded Xiao with slightly more focus but still with a strange dopey smile.

“Do you want to know which effigy represents you among these?”

Xiao didn’t catch how the bard gestured at the altar, he had already decided the next course of action.

He took off as fast as he could.

He was making haste in order to return to his duties as fast as possible, he reasoned with himself.

When he returned, Xiao found the bard lying on his back again, balancing his musical instrument on his belly, pulling the strings lazily in a light doze.

“Stop torturing my ears. Here.”

“Eh? But-“

The bard snapped his eyes open and sat upright suddenly. He eyed the fruits Xiao carried with wide, clearly hungry eyes, so Xiao didn’t have the heart to jest further and placed the whole bundle on the bard’s lap.

But the young mortal didn’t start eating immediately.

He regarded Xiao quietly, his wide green eyes filled with wonder and something indescribable that made Xiao’s chest feel uncomfortably tight.

To avoid that gaze Xiao turned around and settled down at the entrance of the temple. He took out his jade-framed and paper fan and started fanning himself. He’s felt worse heat waves, but he wanted to do something that made him look busy from the perspective of the mortal.

It was a peaceful afternoon, the sound of the rain slightly louder than the sound of munching.

No need to ruin it by forcefully trying to pry foes out of the deepest depth of the earth. He could sit down and watch the rain. Just for a couple of hours. Nobody would know. It wasn’t like this young mortal would go to Morax and blabber all about Xiao being remiss in his patrolling duties.

Steps resounded behind him and the bard sat next to Xiao, handing him a big peach.

“Here. Saved it for you.”

Xiao turned around. The bard looked better already. His eyes were more focused, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Yakshas don’t feel hunger,” said Xiao looking back at the rain.

They didn’t feel the sort of hunger humans felt, but Xiao didn’t care about explaining details.

“Yeah, and they don’t feel pain, sadness, happiness. They don’t need to sleep, breathe, and love. All of you are gods already.”

Xiao had never heard snarkier sarcasm before. He turned around to glare at the bard, but that smile… That smile was deeply unsettling.

Xiao didn’t know what to do with himself in front of that smile.

“Come on, I feel bad eating all that by himself.”

Oh gods, not the pout.

With a huff, Xiao grabbed the peach, raised his mask enough to uncover his mouth, and started eating. It was too hard and way too sweet for his liking, but he tried to smooth out his frown as best as he could.

Why aren’t you sticking to the main roads and villages instead of roaming the wilderness half-starved? Wanted to ask Xiao. But before he could do that, a small piece of jade was raised at his eye-level.

It was curved like a horn and it was of the poorest quality. It wasn’t the pure jade that was refined by the deepest, darkest recesses of the earth. Its sandy-coloured veins revealed that it was a superficial sediment. The rock hadn’t had the time to concentrate the mass of the gem and refine the impurities out of it yet.

“This is you.”

He glared at the bard’s brilliant smile despite knowing that his mask hid his expression.

“When I was roaming the border to warn as many people as possible, I met this young girl. She bemoaned the tiny temple her people had set up. The altar was so small there was no place for ther hand-made clay horn. When I asked about the horn, she told me a story. A story about a young girl and her baby sister. Visiting their sick friend in the neighbouring village. They encountered danger on the road, but were saved by a masked guardian. He had scary horns and a jade spear and after he took care of the danger, he walked in front of them the whole way-“

“All right, enough, don’t say any more,” exclaimed Xiao, feeling hot under his mask.

This damned summer heat was unrelenting. Xiao resumed fanning himself.

“But wait, there’s my favourite part! The young girl said she and her little sister were scared because of what just happened, they’d never seen such a big spear made all out of jade and the kind yaksha never said a word to them. But he walked in front and seeing his back all the way through the village made them feel the safest-“

“Where are you inventing all this nonsense from?!”

“Excuse you! That’s so rude to the poor darling who told me the whole thing, she was so sad!”

“What? WHY?”

“Because of this,” said the bard matter-of-factly. And the small sandy piece of jade reappeared in Xiao’s line of sight again.

He glared at the mortal boy again, silently ordering to explain.

“This girl said that her displaced village was far from any jade repository, and too poor to buy jade from merchants. But she was too scared to dig up bones to fashion a horn out of that so she had to settle for clay. She was so sad because other temples had a jade horn to represent you on the altar, but she couldn’t have that. She was so grateful, and yet. She was also slightly afraid that you would be displeased by her craftsmanship.”

“I’ve never heard such useless nonsense,” huffed Xiao.

How could humans let themselves be bogged won by such inane thoughts?

“Right?! I didn’t know you then but I knew that, from what she told me, you absolutely would not be displeased.”

“You missed the point but whatever.”

The bard’s snickering was barely a wave of sound under the pouring rain. Xiao tries not to strain his hearing to listen to it.

“Do you know that the common people do not call onto you or pray to you because they don’t want to distract you and risk your life?”

Xiao’s fan jerked for a moment before he resumed his motion. He hoped the bard did not notice it but by the way he snickered Xiao didn’t think he was too successful.

“The jade spear yaksha never rests, they say. He’s never seen among mortals, teaching them or training them. He’s always patrolling and fighting. They’re afraid that by praying to you, they’re going to distract their first and best line of defence against the shadows of danger.”

Xiao gazed into the curtain of raindrops, considering the bard’s words.

That was… wait.

“This time I know for a fact that you’re making all of this up. None can hear the prayers of mortals when there’s no throne established in the land.”

“True. But the people of Liyue don’t know that. And illuminated beings mingle with them enough that they’re convinced that these benefactors are actually responding to prayers.”

Xiao huffed in disbelief.

“Immortals don’t mingle with mortals.” Much, he thought, but didn’t say.

He was used to turn a deaf ear when his fellow combatants narrated about their bizarre escapades among the frail-bodied mortals.

From the corner of his eyes he saw bard raising his eyebrows and smirking mischievously. Xiao still didn’t know what to do with himself in front of the boy so he kept silent. His heart was already doing things completely out of control. He didn’t want to goad the bard into showing even more ridiculous expressions.

“A fellow named Tongque was visiting a village for the summer festival at the same as I was,” said the bard shuffling even closer to Xiao.

Go figure… Pervases was too amenable to mingle with mortals and share all sorts of secret arts with them.

Xiao didn’t understand why, mortals were so annoying.

“Don’t believe a word that came out of that bird-brain mouth.”

The bard snorted inelegantly before he tried to cover it with a cough.

“He was actually pretty complimentary towards you, so no need to call ill upon the poor fellow.”

This time it was Xiao’s turn to snort.

“That bird is too laid-back. I bet he went as far as complimenting your music!”

“Hahah! He did actually! Only you are honest with me. Liyueans are so polite, they have kind words for the best parts of my melodies and overlook the rest. My first impression of you was right. You’re an honest person. I can count on you to become the best bard in Teyvat.”

The bard’s smile was too bright for Xiao’s comfort. He tried to escape that gaze, angling his body away from it would have helped, but it was like his muscles were locked in place. He was pulled in, hypnotized.

“That’s why I like your company so much.”

Xiao regarded the bard silently.

How could this young man be so happy around Xiao?

How could he smile at a mask speckled with blood and dirt like it was a familiar and welcome sight?

He had never seen Xiao’s face yet he had already spewed nonsense like ‘kind yaksha’ and ‘favourite person.’

“Don’t come to Liyue anymore.”

The bard’s dopey grin froze in place. Xiao swallowed around the lump that suddenly formed in his throat.

“The war is heating up here.” Mental images of spears as being as mountains descending from the skies flashed through Xiao’s mind.

“Once the minor deities and illuminated beasts are finished killing each other off, the major gods will get serious. There’s talk of the Overlord of the Vortex finally preparing for battle. Some illuminated beasts and mortals have somehow put in their minds the insanity that ritual sacrifices can provide them with great powers and have started hunting each other. Nowhere in Liyue is safe. Nobody in Liyue is safe. This land will not see peace before the end of your mortal life. Choose a secure path, don’t come back here.”

Xiao did not know what to make of bard’s reaction. A soft smile was not exactly what he had expected. It made him antsy and had to fight the urge to fidget.

“And where would I go? The southern winds have made Mondstadt off-limits for the time being. Inazuma is at the other end of an ocean, and the rest of Teyvat is in open warfare. Khaenri’ah has closed its borders and wants nothing of the strife of gods.”

Wordlessly, Xiao pulled out his map from his sub-dimensional pouch. He spread it on the floor between them and pointed at Dragon 's Cradle.

“Reports have that the land of the Blind Forest has chosen a peaceful way to choose its sovereign. We don’t know the particulars but seeing that historically scholars have travelled from that land more than from any other land, their solution might involve intellectual skills rather than combat. There is proof that the contestants of the District of Lakes have also chosen a subtle approach to godhood, that’s another viable option. You start at Dragon’s Cradle for both itineraries. Cross the short side of Skull Desert and through this valley for the Blind Forest. For the land of lakes you need to keep north towards the Frozen Tundra, and skirt its border until the White River. Follow it to the land of the water deities.”

When Xiao finished, he was surprised to see the bard looking neither offended not eager. But pensive. He touched a corner of the map as if it was the most radiant treasure he had seen.

“The world is so vast… To see foreign lands and people after being trapped in the storm all my life…”

Xiao gulped around an uncomfortable knot that rose in his throat. With jerky movements he folded the map and thrust it at the bard.

“Take the map.”

“I can’t possi-“

“Take it. Go to any town with a market, stock up food, go to Dragon’s Cradle as soon as you can. And don’t you dare die on your way there.”

The silence that ensued felt heavy with something unspoken. Xiao resumed his fanning to stop the urge of wringing his hands together in nervousness. This was ridiculous. Why was he feeling so out of sorts?

“What if I meet with danger along the way and need your help? If I pray to a small jade horn, will you come?”

Xiao couldn’t stand how sweet and pleading the bard’s voice turned.

“Tsk. More music practice and less nonsense!”

He couldn’t take it anymore. His heart was pounding in his chest, his hands were starting to shake. He folded his fan up and stepped into the rain. A moment later, he was gone in the grey afternoon.

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3

Xiao felt a bit silly recalling how he imagined that the downpour in Mondstadt was going to end with the end of summer. Three summers later and the cool autumn winds were rolling into Liyue, but Mondstadt was still encased in a bubble of supernaturally strong, hot winds.

It was a strange sensation. When Xiao patrolled the border, if he stood looking towards Liyue his front would become slightly cold during the night while his back remained constantly hot.

No wonder the people who pre-emptively evacuated the border did not come back when they realized that there was no immediate danger.

“Oh mighty Golden-Winged King Conqueror of Demons Vigilant Yaksha,” intoned a familiar sweet voice behind Xiao.

He turned around so quickly his neck hurt, but it was worth it, for the bard was actually there. He wasn’t hearing things.

Kneeling on the tiles of the same roof Xiao was sitting on. Hands pressed together in prayer, worn-out clothes but for the hat and flower, and that cheeky smile that Xiao had seen a few times too many in his (day)dreams.

“May you live a long life and be happy and healthy.”

“You!” Xiao didn’t know what to be indignated at the most. The fact that the bard was still in Liyue, or the stupid prayer.

Praying for the health of a guardian yaksha. What a joke!

“Hi~ Long time no see! You look fine, I’m so gla-“

“WHY are you here?”

“No need to shout like that, I just managed to slip out of a crowd of adoring fans you know~?”

“Why every time I meet you you’re spouting nonsense after nonsense!”

“Hehe~ I’m here for the Autumn Festival and I’ll have you know I’m already a worldwide accomplished bard-“

“AS IF!”

“Pyu~”

Ah, crap, thought Xiao, turning to his lap. He forgot about the little one.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Xiao tensed, feeling the bard scooting carefully on the roof until they were sitting side by side, but he didn’t pull away.

“Oh my heavens…” sighed the bard when he took a look at the bundle in Xiao’s lap.

It was a ball of soft, newly born, green feathers and sleepy, golden eyes. Xiao could relate to the bard’s reaction. When he first looked upon his charge, he also experienced a moment of tenderness. Even killing machines had feelings, after all…

“Is this your so-“

“Charge!”

The bard was basically vibrating out of skin in excitement, his glinting eyes locked on the bundle of feathers.

“It’s so cute! Is it-“

“Pyu.”

Xiao looked down. He was fully awake now, goddammit. Oh well.

“Oh, stars, that’s so cute! Hel-“

When Xiao put his charge in the bard’s lap he had to admit the reaction was pretty hilarious. Never had he seen a mortal so taken in by an illuminated creature. Though Xiao didn’t hang around with mortals much… and he had never let his charge be held by someone else before.

Well. No need to dwell on it.

The bard held the bird so delicately, smiling so sweetly… Xiao begrudgingly realized that the tight sensation in his chest was back, and with a vengeance.

“It’s a he.”

The bard caressed the baby owl with the lightest of touches.

“You’re the prettiest baby boy ever! What’s his name?”

Xiao inhaled, ready to say it, but-

“I’m sorry!” exclaimed the boy with a frightened look. “It’s dangerous for you adepti to say your name, right? I’m sorry I asked!”

“No, it’s all-“

“What about Chubby?”

“He’s- What?”

Xiao did not hear that right. It couldn’t be.

“Chubby!” said the bard laughingly coddling the little bird even closer to his chest, as if Seeker could get a chill from the refreshing autumn breeze.

“Stop that. He’s not fat. It’s the feathers that add volume!”

“You don’t need to take offence. What’s wrong with being heavy? And I know it’s because of the feathers, I’m holding him, no? It’s just a cute harmless nickname.”

Xiao should have said no. He should have looked at that radiant smile and shut the whole thing down immediately.

But what the hell. It’s not like the bard was going around merry-making with the other adepti, shouting the silly nickname to the four winds.

And Jade Seeker looked so content in the bard’s curled up hands…

Whatever.

“He was asleep before I arrived, right? I can sing him a lullaby.”

“He should have woken up soon anyway.”

“Waiting for the fireworks?”

“Mn.”

“Happy Autumn Festival, by the way. Ah, but… Do you even celebrate it?”

“Thanks, you too. But not really. It marks the passage of the seasons though, which is nice. When you’re immortal you tend to lose track of such things.”

“Got it. Do you celebrate anything at all?”

Xiao shrugged. “The day I received my name, sometimes. Sometimes… the day I received my Vision.”

“Y-Your Vision?”

Xiao ignored the startled tone and raised his hand. He had encased his Vision in bandages which he wrapped around his arm for easy storage. They were enchanted bandages so they never ran out. They also made a great impromptu medical kit.

One day when the War ended, maybe he would stich something nice together.

“I went from a contract to another. And as I faltered to accept it… When I tried to understand my purpose in life. I experienced... Regret. Uneasiness. I thought… ‘will I really live and die without knowing what real freedom is?’ And I closed my hand around it.”

Xiao closed his fist, his Vision reflecting the lights of the torches.

“Just by realizing it. It was that simple,” murmured Xiao, smiling at the cloudy sky and his past self. “In the end… it was that fucking simple, you know?

The bard was tactful enough not to comment Xiao’s change of tone. He blinked away the tears, glad for his mask, and resettled his folded legs for lack of things to do. After a long pause, the bard started to speak in a soft way, as if disclosing a precious secret.

“I’ve decided to become the best bard in Teyvat. It’s my promise I made to a dear friend I lost, so it’s very important you know? I’ll choose one instrument from each country and master it. I’ve chosen the lyre from Mondstadt. What do you suggest for Liyue?”

I suggest you become immortal and never die on me. I suggest you ignore my advice and stay here with me, where I can keep an eye on you, keep you safe.

I suggest you explain to me what kind of sorcery you’ve casted upon me, that you’ve ensnared me so. That you haunt my sleeping and waking thoughts, unbidden.

I suggest you tell me you hate me so I can finally cast you out of my mind. I suggest you go now and stop tormenting me.

I suggest you take my hand and start talking in that melodious voice of yours and never stop.

“Something that would prevent you from spewing nonsense every time we meet. Like a flute.”

“Huh? Oh! I know the kind. The xiao, right?”

A shiver ran down Xiao’s spine.

“No! The dizi!” he shouted without noticing, and was momentarily embarrassed of his outburst.

“Dizi…? All right~”

The two sat in companionable silence, interspersed with Seeker’s chirping.

There was something Xiao wanted to say, but the more he thought about it, the more exposed he felt.

“Are you waiting for the fireworks, too?”

“Mh. Won’t little Chubby here be scared though?”

“At the beginning, probably. But he needs to gain experience. It’s part of his training.”

“Training?”

“He’s not a pet, or a simple companion. He’s going to explore the world and gather information for me.”

“This little guy? A spy?”

The sheer surprise in the bard’s tone wasn’t what prompted Xiao’s response. The underlying note of disapproval was.

It shouldn’t have mattered. The opinion of a lowly mortal shouldn’t have mattered. Unfortunately, Xiao was so gone already that a mere look of disapproval was enough.

Perhaps it was too late to send the bard away to forget all about him.

Xiao took his Sereniteapot out of his pocket.

“A tea cup?”

“A teapot.”

“So small! Cute!”

“Adepti can use Illuminated Arts to create sub-space dimensions.”

The deadpan look in the bard’s eyes said it all.

“This… is bigger on the inside. There’s a house and a garden inside this teapot.”

The transition from the deadpan look to the utterly dumbfounded one was quite amusing.

“There are two ways one can stabilize the energy in the teapot so that everything remains concrete and maintains its original position. The first method is enveloping the teapot in a constant flow of adeptal energy. This is too distracting for active combatants like me though, so I use the second method.”

He pointed at Seeker.

“You… use him to channel energy?”

“No. He’s a creature born from the merging of a piece of jade, concentrated adeptal energy, and this sub-space dimension.”

“So…” Xiao saw the metaphorical wheels turning inside the bard’s but when he saw his smile he was too late to stop him.

“He is your son!”

“He’s not!”

“Chubby~ Who’s this? Is this papa? Eh? Is this papa?”

Being held high up suddenly seemed to disorient Seeker for a moment, who looked at Xiao and raised his miniscule wings up for a ‘up-up’,

“Sh-Shixiong…”

Xiao silently commended him. It was actually intelligible this time. Seeker was improving, and fast.

This time Xiao couldn’t stop the smile at the look of utter shock and delight on the bard’s face.

“Don’t get so excited, that’s pretty much the only word he can say.”

“It’s Liyuean dialect, right? I’ve heard it often but what does it mean?”

“Older Brother.”

“Huh? I thought ‘gege’ meant that.”

Xiao wanted to extract the memory of the bard saying ‘gege’ and throw it away immediately, for the sake of his mental sanity.

“Older Brother in the field of Illuminated and Martial Arts. ‘Gege’ is more general. And more informal. Don’t go around saying it!”

The bard’s smile slowly grew bigger until Xiao got secretly worried for the bard’s jaw.

“You sound so cute when you speak in dialect. If it’s informal I can totally use it between us two, right?  Gege~”

Before he could threaten the bard with bodily harm, a whistling sound rose to the sky and exploded in a myriad of sparks.

As the sky lit up again and again, Xiao looked down to check on his charge and instantly regret it. Fearing for Seeker, the bard had opened a button of his tunic and was holding Chubby in the opening, close to his chest. The baby owl looked contented enough but Xiao thought that he looked a bit too happy. He had never envied another sentient being so much as right then.

“So beautiful,” breathed the mortal in a reverent tone.

Against better reason, Xiao peered at the bard’s expression, and promptly turned around. The night turned out to be a memorable one not only for Jade Seeker.

As the spectacle boomed to an end, the bard even applauded. He never put Seeker down though, so he applauded as best as he could by patting his thigh quickly. Which was not endearing at all.

“Chubby congratulations! You passed this test of mettle with flying colours! Right?” he asked Xiao enthusiastically, who was trying to ignore how puffed up Seeker was striving to be.

The little tyke… Xiao could scarcely begrudge him the velocity at which he got attached to the bard.

“Acceptable.”

“Whaat? Just ‘acceptable’? Don’t worry Chubby I think you did marveously! Not even a peep of fear. You’re going to grow into the bravest adeptus! Second only to your shixiong, of course. Do you have a treat for him?” he asked Xiao again.

“Treat?”

“A reward. Usually foo-“

“I know what’s a treat. But I told you, he’s not a pet. No treats needed.”

“But adepti eat, I’ve seen it. Wouldn’t it be nice to celebrate Chubby’s first fireworks with his favourite foods?”

Xiao was suddenly slammed with the memories of the times he secretly gorged himself on nightmares in the privacy of his abode.

It was a bad habit that he knew he had to eradicate, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that if he did not consume nightmares they’d grow in strength until they’d spawn more foes for him to fight, and he’d get weaker and useless. 

Seeker had never shown interest in nightmares, nor in any human food or substance, as far as Xiao knew.

He was supposed to raise Seeker until the latter became an independent nomad adeptus, fearing nothing and no one, honing his skills and knowledge to the point of near perfection, becoming the most reliable spy as Xiao strived to become the most reliable weapon. Was he being remiss in his training by not addressing something like food?

But more importantly and more scaringly, was he being remiss in raising Seeker as a freeborn sentient being?

What a load of nonsense. Adepti were not mortals. They did not require something as base as sustenance. And the earlier the bard understood that, the better.

Suddenly irritated, Xiao scooped Seeker out of the bard’s hands and entered the Sereniteapot. He laid down the owl, ignored his confused chirping, and resurfaced.

A tense silence ensued, but fuck if Xiao knew how to break it. The bard’s uneasiness was almost palpable, which made Xiao feel even worse.

“I’m sorry,” murmured the boy eventually. “I didn’t think it would be a sensitive issue.”

“It’s not a sensitive issue,” replied Xiao immediately. Then again, trying to sound less stern. “It’s not a sensitive anything. It’s not even an issue.”

The air resounded with Xiao’s lie and the air seemed to grow colder with his self-bound resentment.

“I used to feed on people’s dreams,” he heard himself saying, not knowing why or how he even begun to speak of something like that. “Especially Nightmares. If I ever knew the taste of mortal foods, I forgot it. I didn’t know about adeptal abode’s guardians, I just wanted a place where I could get some rest without endangering mortals. I don’t know how the others are raising their abode guardians. Properly maybe. With actual food and shit like that.”

“You’re raising him properly too. He looks very healthy and he sounds very happy. When he called out to you, he sounded like he loves you very much.”

“Whatever. As soon as he’s able to survive on his own he needs to start traveling and gather information. Make himself useful. Get the fuck as far away from me as possible.”

Xiao almost fell off the roof when he felt a body lean onto him until all of his right side seemed to have turned into a furnace.

Xiao waited and waited for the bard to speak, but he did not.

The night wasn’t so cold after all, but Xiao became increasingly concerned about the bard’s health if they stayed outdoors for so long. He should accompany the boy to his residence. Or to some sort of shelter, if the boy didn’t have one.

He should do something, he should move.

But it seemed as if Xiao’s body did not know how to move anymore. As if his tongue didn’t know how to articulate language anymore. The world had boiled down to a source of heat by his side, and the rhythmic rise and fall of a life that, against all logic, kept itself as close to Xiao as possible.

“You too,” whispered Xiao, surprising even himself. “You too, you should get as far away as possible.”

A pair of arms encircled his waist then, and Xiao felt like the world paused. He didn’t dare move, he didn’t dare breathe, he didn’t dare think.

“Xiao.”

He didn’t dare think. He didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t.

“I’ll come back as often as I can. Please don’t hate me, all right? I didn’t do it to mock you, or have fun at your expense. I just wanted to get to know you a bit. In a normal way. So… please? Don’t hate me?”

Were those tears in the bard’s voice?

Xiao turned around just as the arms around him relaxed for a second. He had enough time to see a glimpse of tears and a trembling smile before the arms around tightened again and Xiao found himself suddenly hot on all his front, inhaling a subtle flowery smell.

“Xiao.”

Xiao’s brain stuttered again, as if there was something barely out of its reach but didn’t want to reach it and grasp it.

“Be happy, all right? Be free.”

A wind current jolted them upwards. The suddenness of it was so strong that Xiao instinctively grasped his Sereniteapot tighter and would have grasped the bard’s arm, too, if the wind didn’t fling him up again, more potently than before.

Xiao summoned his spear, balanced his weight through the current and plunged down.

When he looked up, the bard was nowhere to be seen.

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