Chapter Text
“You’re planning to kill yourself.”
Childe paused, gaping at the consultant.
They were in the middle of the busy midday street in Feiyun Slope. He had just finished a debt collection and was on his way back to the bank, but seems like someone was intent on interrupting his lunch break.
“Aren’t you?”
Zhongli brought a commotion to them. Of course he would, they are in the middle of the street, where all shopkeepers, passers-by, and Millelith could watch them.
“Childe! Answer me!”
He gulped as he focused back on the consultant, whose glare seemed to intensify with every second he stayed quiet. He avoided the gaze, and noticed a letter crumpled in the man’s hand.
‘Oh.’
His letter. His lost letter. It was meant to be at sea by now. Why is one of the pages with him?
“Mr Zhongli, I-”
“Childe. Explain yourself. Do you think this is a joke?”
He paused, and his eyes widened. ‘What.’
‘What is going on? Wait- Isn’t this Liyue’s recent villain?’ whispered someone in the crowd.
His head turned towards them, and he finally noticed how big the crowd around them had gotten. People were staring, with most whispering amongst each other, while a couple tried to find a way to disperse the crowd, or appease the commotion. The Millelith were talking to each other, clearly concerned about the consultant.
They were all worried for Zhongli.
Zhongli, whose was furious, and probably about to blow up the entire harbour in a rage.
None of them were concerned for Childe.
“Childe!”
He can’t stay here. He needs to leave.
“Childe!!”
The path to Northland Bank was blocked by the consultant and crowd. He needs to leave the harbour. Where can he go? They are far from any borders.
There’s only one path he can follow for now.
He took a small step step backwards.
Zhongli leapt forward, but he jumped back, and quickly turned back to the direction of Bubu Pharmacy. He’ll take a path to the Chasm. That place is a mess, Zhongli won’t look for him there.
“CHILDE!!”
And so, he ran.
----
He pushed through the crowds, and couldn’t understand any of the yelling behind him. All he knows is that Zhongli is there, along with members of the Millelith, and he absolutely cannot stop moving or turn around.
Quickly noticing the path leading up next to Mt Tianheng, he sprinted towards it, dodging the Millelith in front of him trying to grasp him.
He tripped momentarily over a step, but recovered almost instantly at the sound of shouts behind him.
“Get him!”
He made it to the top of the path, and as soon as he caught sight of the ruins which once held the Guizhong Ballista, he felt something wet drop on his shoulder.
He flinched, grasping his shoulder while turning back around, but relaxed momentarily at the sight of the Millelith away from him, still pursuing him, but far enough that he knew he could outrun them.
Rain began coming down, and he sighed shakily, his shoulders dropping as he continued forward towards the ruins, and past them to Dunyu Ruins.
The ground shook, the skies rumbling, and he instantly tensed up, his mind flashing him a reminder which he must not forget.
‘I’m still in Liyue.’
As long as he’s here, he’s convinced that Zhongli will know exactly where to find him.
He picked up the pace.
Eventually, he was sure that he had lost the Millelith to the Fatui troops in the ruins, along with the hilichurl camp he zoomed through before they could process his presence. He passed several Fatui groups, remembering how he trained a couple of them before. He ignored and ran past them, no matter how much they shouted at him to stop. He knew they didn’t mean harm, but as long as he remained in the yellowed grass plains of Liyue, he would not be safe. Fatui or not, no one can protect him from the oldest, and strongest archon, with or without a gnosis.
The sight of those amber eyes glaring down at him is still fresh in his memory. He can’t ignore the way that they had made him feel like the smallest being in Liyue Harbour. Was it really his fault that he had written a letter for himself, and it landed in Zhongli’s hands? Is it really his fault that it had been blown out of his grasp?
Why did Zhongli even have it?
The last letter to himself he had written was before he had even departed for a short mission Inazuma. The incident in the bank had still been vivid in his memories, the way both La Signora and Zhongli had stared at him like he was nothing but a pawn, and had meant nothing to them at all, even though they meant something to him. He may dislike La Signora, but he wouldn’t be so deceitful to her.
He can’t even begin to explain how he felt when Zhongli had handed his gnosis to La Signora.
The former archon had a choice. All he had to do was give his gnosis to the Fatui, but he could have given it to either one of the two harbingers. He could have given it to Childe, to Tartaglia, who had accompanied him almost everyday. They had dinner together, daily walks on the harbour after work hours, and even gave each other gifts. He did so much for the man, and was given such a lovely time in return. The stories, discussions, even just the company, it all felt like a dream. It was almost unreal to feel so at ease beside someone, but he supposes that it was all fake, wasn’t it? Zhongli had simply been keeping a very close eye on him, no? Why else would he monitor him everyday, make him talk about what he did, and how he felt.
He feels like a fool to have even considered them to be able to become something more than friends.
Giving Childe the gnosis would have been mean, to be given the one thing he didn’t even want any more after learning that he’s been deceived, but it was cruel to watch Zhongli give it to someone else. What did La Signora do, to deserve receiving the gnosis more than him? The report to the Tsaritsa had been even worse. He hadn’t known that being left out could feel this bad, like needles poking into his heart, and bursting with spikes at the realisation that he had been an imbecile to have been used in such ways.
However, Tartaglia doesn’t hold grudges. He would never blame the Tsaritsa for his own ignorance, and he accepted that it had been like so. Becoming the fool was part of their plan, and they predicted him perfectly. It was distasteful, but there was nothing he could do about it, nor anything he could really regret. Would he have been able to take the gnosis if he had known Zhongli was Morax all along? He’s not sure he could have.
His thoughts had been all over the place as soon as he stormed into his office after Zhongli had handed his gnosis to La Signora, and hadn’t even spared a glance towards him. Childe was a mess, but didn’t have anything physical to burst out. He couldn’t laugh, couldn’t shout, and he couldn’t even cry. His eyes stung, and he had half the motivation to pull them out of their sockets so he could finally feel nothing, but it was the only thing keeping his aware, with everything else feeling as hollow as the friendship that he realised he had with Zhongli.
He had numbed his thoughts with paperwork back then, keeping them in the back of his mind while the sun was still up in the sky, but as soon as the sunset ended and the moon shone through his window, everything spilled out.
He still hadn’t cried, no matter how much he felt like doing it. He still couldn’t shout or laugh, his voice cracking at the smallest noise he made. Instead, he had gone into an old habit of his, and began writing.
It cleared his thoughts, to put them down so he wouldn’t forget them, and whilst they weren’t addressed for anyone but him, he pretended what it would be like if someone found it, after he disappears from the world, unable to come to him with his letter their hand.
He had written the letter in the dark of his room, accompanied by nothing but a flickering candle flame, and the gentle breeze from his open window. He had a view on the street of Feiyun Slope, quiet in the middle of the night. The most he could hear were the waves of the sea, and the quiet meows of stray cats.
Quiet, perfect to organise his self-destructive thoughts. He wrote them all down, beginning with how terrible he felt, describing all of the numbness in imagery, as he couldn’t place the right words on how he felt like so.
The thoughts eventually drifted to his self hate, blaming everything that everyone has done on him. It was his fault he hadn’t realised that he was being deceived, right? Now that he thinks about it, the signs are so obvious, he really should have known better.
He wrote about the newer events, and eventually drifted into the older ones, stemming from his family, and then his fall in the abyss. Briefly remembering his first letter at the age of fourteen, when he realised he’d basically been sold off to the Fatui. He had been blind in his blood-thirst for the first few months to realise how he had practically been abandoned by his father.
Everything on his mind bleed onto the paper into words, and eventually, his mind was blank, and he took in an envelope, to fold the letter inside. He wrote the date, and named it ‘suicide note,’ knowing that its title was false. He wasn’t planning to die yet. Soon, but not yet.
He observed it, watching it with tired eyes, and he didn’t even blink out of the trance when the breeze picked up, and blew out his candle, taking the unsealed envelope and its content with it, and delivering it to the outside.
He should have closed the window, and maybe he should have reacted more when he watched the pages of the letter disperse in the street, flowing in the wind. He sighed, and watched as some remained on the empty street. The earliest shifts wouldn’t start for another couple hours, and he had a feeling that even if street cleaners were to come now, they would even think about the pages on the street. They would simply pick it up with the rest of the litter, and throw it away.
After closing his window, he got ready for bed. He didn’t think too much about the letter. It would have been nice to keep it, to place in his safe where he had all of his other previous letters. At least the pages will be drifted on the sea, probably illegible for anyone who finds it. His Snezhnayan cursive isn’t the most readable at best anyway.
He had fallen asleep, convinced that everything would be alright, and that even if he lost that letter, no one would find it. He had slept peacefully that night, with all his thoughts away, and his feelings numbed to nothingness.
He blinked out of his thoughts, as he paused at the path in front of him.
He came across a fork, and took a second to ponder. He had two options. He could go to the Chasm through Lingju Pass, or he could access it from Lumberpick Valley. It was an easy option as he quickly remembered Liyue’s geography. He had easier access from the valley.
The valley was unfamiliar. No matter how often he went to the places in Liyue, his factions were never in Lumberpick Valley, and as far as he’s aware, no one lives there either.
He was surprised to see ruins, along with cottages, but he stopped in his track at the sight of a ruin hunter.
‘This isn’t civilisation. It’s a hostile place.’
He turned back, and strayed from the path until he came across a lake, running to his banks. He shivered as he approached the water, and shook himself as he felt droplets on his head.
‘Shit. I’m drenched.’
The rain had let up a little while ago in the ruins, yet it seemed to have picked up again, and he could see the lightning hitting nearby slimes in the lake. The ground shook again.
‘Is this a warning?’ he thought. He was sure it was before, but now he doesn’t know.
Lightning struck beside him, and he flinched to the side.
He can’t stay still, thus he began to run again. Anyway, he would have gotten attacked by slimes if he remained any longer.
Reconnecting himself to a path, he gaped as he noticed a huge furred creature.
‘What the hell is that?’
Struck in exhaustion and confusion, he didn’t react to the beast rushing towards him, and it knocked him back, the horns striking him. He cried out as he landed on his back, but he pushed through his fatigue as he noticed the beast coming back to him.
He jumped to his feet, an aching sting on his stomach stuttering his movements. Quickly leaping away, he continued on the path he was on, hoping the beast would eventually stop following him.
His surroundings on the path slowly faded to green, and he furrowed his brows, looking around. The path isn’t leading him to the Chasm, is it?
A group of unfamiliar looking people were in the distance, and whilst they didn’t look like treasure hoarders, they most definitely looked hostile. He avoided them, and came to the end of the uphill on his path. He finally let himself breathe, the sight in the golden hour on a forest numbing all of his nerves.
It most definitely wasn’t Liyue.
“Sumeru…” he breathed out, the pink skies dusting the entire rainforest in the hue.
The huge tree in the middle of the forest took him out of his daze.
“Sumeru City… I’ll-” he coughed, sputtering out drops of blood. ‘I’ll be safe,’ he realised, looked at the blood he caught with his hand.
He froze as he noticed something had approached him from his left. He snapped his head towards it, and stayed still as he locked sight with another huge furred beast. It wasn’t the same, but it still had horns.
He took in a deep breath, and sprinted down the hill, in the direction of the tree. Loud thumps could be heard behind him, and he stumbled down a cliff, but as he stopped moving, the beast had given up on him.
Without any time to breathe, something hissed behind him, and he locked eyes with a tiger.
‘What the fuck is up with Sumeru!’ he thought, exasperated. He quickly picked up his pace, and jumped off another cliff, and landed into a ravine.
He landed in the middle of a bunch of tree roots, his head hitting against the ground, unfortunately landing on a rock.
He yelped, grasping his head, and looked around him.
He was surrounded by two trees, and the cliffside. On the other side, he could see a huge waterfall.
‘Why is everything blurring?’ he wondered slowly, his vision mixing into colours he shouldn’t be seeing.
Red.
He lifted a hand to his forehead, and his breathing quickened as he felt a gash, and a stream of blood sliding down his forearm and dripping from his elbow.
Black.
‘It’s dark, but the sky is so clear.’
He could see a few berries in the distance, but as he slumped again one of the tree’s trunk, nestled between roots, he couldn’t lift his arm up, nor move his legs.
‘Did I… land badly?’
He couldn’t even react at the sight of his dislocated arm, nor his legs which most definitely shouldn’t be bending that way.
His eyes fluttered closed, and he tried to control his breathing.
‘I’ll rest here for the night.’
He coughed.
‘I’ll find a pharmacist tomorrow, and hopefully they’ll have medicine for me,’ he thought, his muscles spasming.
His breathing eventually evened out, and although he felt like his lungs were empty, he couldn’t move, and he slipped into sleep.
He’ll wake up in the morning. He’s sure.
Life is never that convenient.