Chapter Text
It was always good to be wary around gods. This advice was not exclusive to the gods of Teyvat, but to every deity and higher being there may be across all universes. Sometimes gods were creators, sometimes they were rulers, but all the gods she knew had one thing in common— power that no ordinary human could contest. The concept of such divine beings were often the cause of debate, but Lumine could not place herself in either extreme end.
Perhaps if she had never met a god before the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles, whom she had long resolved to kill with her own two hands, she could have fallen towards the slippery slope of loathing, getting herself killed along the way.
However, though she did not hate all the gods, she could not get herself to fully trust them either— in particular, the gods of Teyvat. She could befriend them, she could like them, after meeting Venti she knew it was quite impossible to hate him , not with how kindly he treated her and the little bits of info he had fed her, but it was just that— she knew so little of him, possibly as little of her he knew, that if she were to ever learn he was somehow involved with…
No, she did not want to think about it. It was an interesting development, she mused, how after allowing herself to feel less guilty of making friends she had already jumped the gun to hypothetical feelings of betrayal. A little hypocritical, too, knowing that she was an entity who hid practically everything of her past. Was friendship meant to be so complicated a matter as this?
Still, her feelings about Venti were relatively easier to comprehend than her feelings about Zhongli. Before the fight with Osial she found herself quite liking him— it was true she had wanted to leave Teyvat as soon as she reunited with her brother, but it was also true that the world she currently resided in was quite enchanting; Zhongli, with his deep, rich voice made for quite a wonderful storyteller and educator, and she found herself hanging onto every detail he’d tell about the customs and culture of Liyue.
After learning of his plan from the encounter with him, Tartaglia, and Signora she found herself… no, not quite disliking, but definitely conflicted. This feeling continued even as they ventured to Sal Terrae, where she learned more not only of Havria and the conflict of the gods, but of Zhongli himself.
She understood why he did what he did, even if she wondered if it was the absolute best approach, but the source of her apprehension had been less of the effects it would have on Liyue and more about his deal with the Tsaritsa, more about how a gnosis could be so easily given away, more about the idea of just how much he knew but could not tell her due to his contracts.
Still, just like how it was Venti she had befriended, not Barbatos, it would be Zhongli she would get to know, not Morax or Rex Lapis.
Admittedly she knew her intentions were not completely pure, knowing that she would try to pry as much as she could about the events that had happened while she had yet to awaken, about the gods and archons of this world. He probably knew that already, though, and would firmly set his boundaries on what he’d get her to discover herself.
It was with that line of thought that she found herself approaching the funeral consultant.
“Miss Lumine, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence to?”
“I’ve been hoping to ask for a favor, honestly,” Lumine said, holding tight to a pile of books between her arms, “I found… er, acquired some history books and a few of them have some Liyuean passages I don’t understand, so I was hoping you could possibly explain them to me?”
When the brunet didn’t respond as fast as expected, simply humming in thought as he had a tendency to do, she found it appropriate to slip in the fact that it was less a favor and more of an exchange.
“I’ll pay for our meals if you accept!”
At last, Zhongli let out an amused chuckle, “I was simply thinking of where to put you in my schedule, but with a generous offer such as yours, who would I be to refuse?” the former archon’s expression looked as if it had stayed the same at first glance, but she was able to catch onto the small curve of his mouth.
Ah, this old man would be quite troublesome as well, wouldn’t he?
Lumine, and Aether for that matter, had never attended a school or academy before. A formal education would require time and commitment and, while it was true the two of them had loads of time, neither of them had enough patience to stick around for more than a few sessions attended sporadically.
She knew how lessons worked, though, having picked up skills from multiple mentors in the past, so it was a given she came prepared in meeting Zhongli, even if it would be an informal lecture given over a bowl of noodles.
“It’s quite flattering that you’d want to take notes from me, even with this setting,” the brunet was eyeing the notebook in her hand. She had difficulty reading his face, wondering if he was teasing her or if he was genuinely flattered.
“A good adventurer should always take down notes,” she replied, taking her seat in front of him, “mere strength isn’t enough, not when knowledge holds just as much importance.”
“That’s a good mindset to have,” he nodded, and if she were to assume based on his age and the things she had already read about him, he was likely agreeing based on experience.
“I do wonder why you bought a few of these books, though.”
Lumine furrowed her eyebrows, “are they inaccurate? Offensive?”
“Though there are most definitely inaccuracies, that’s excusable as it’s impossible to fully retell every detail of history perfectly. None of these are slanderous as well, though I’m sure those would have made for quite the interesting read. Rather, I’m curious as to why you have in your possession books in Liyuean when you barely know a word of it.”
“Oh. I didn’t exactly purchase them,” the traveler had the decency to blush, coughing as she failed to continue her statement. There was no way she was admitting she had a tendency to pick up not only every fruit or flower but books too, but if she tried to lie Zhongli could probably figure her out in seconds. She was just going to let him make his own assumptions, maybe he’ll think kindly of her and assume they were merely gifts from kind citizens of the nation.
“I see,” he smiled as he picked up his tea cup and sipped on it, maintaining eye contact with her. Oh, he most definitely knew.
Still, he seemed to have mercy on her as he picked up the book with the green cover, skimming through the pages briefly before setting it back down, deciding he didn’t need it to tell the story after all.
“Yes, this is quite an interesting tale. Years ago, at Liyue’s foundation, monsters and gods still ruled the seas…in fear the forebears lived, and fought the sea with all they could muster. As spring turned to fall and back again for many an eon, a behemoth arose that dominated the seas. Even the Geo Archon's Geo Whale could not triumph against it.”
“Sea monsters… whale…” Lumine inwardly groaned. Sure, her and Tartaglia were toeing the line between rivalry and friendship, but she couldn’t help but be frustrated at the events from before. Sure, she did send him flying once or twice, and sure, she did make it very annoying fighting her with her geo domes, but wasn’t throwing a whale above her too much? She was soaking like a wet dog once that fight was over!
Zhongli looked at her questioningly, and Lumine wouldn’t be surprised if he figured out why her face was a little scrunched up, but he continued, “The people of Liyue called it "Baqiu," a beast without rival even in the deepest depths of the ocean abyss. Its enormous waves would wash away entire settlements. So the Geo Archon fashioned a black kite by hand with jade and stones.”
It was a little funny having the Geo Archon refer to himself in third person, but she was interested in something else he had said.
“So aside from structures and the land itself, what else is Rex Lapis adept at?” she wasn’t too sure if the Geo Whale was quite so literally a living animal made out of geo, but she could assume it was quite large and took some talent to create, “weapon creation? Cuisine? Fine arts?”
“All of those, of course. Morax has walked these lands for many years,” he replied with a hum, “there are existing records of activities he has pursued in his past time, and even weapons and artifacts of his creation. Perhaps I could show you some time?”
“I’d love that! Honestly, I’m probably the envy of historians right now, you’re more reliable than books these days,” Lumine remarked, knowing she’d still have him translate those books for her regardless.
She was no stranger to artifacts. She had garnered a good amount from Mondstadt herself, and even gifted some of her loot to her friends (and Paimon, who just loved sparkly things), but weapons were much rarer to come by. Sure, she had probably brought dozens of dull blades to Wagner for repurposing, and she kept at least one of every weapon for collecting’s sake, but there were only really three swords she bothered using, and if she were honest, none of them really worked as well as her old sword did. Maybe she’d try to get a better sword? Zhongli would probably give her some ideas on what materials or cut to ask for.
Now that she thought about it… where would Zhongli put his belongings? Last time she checked, Venti, verifiably a god himself, was… well…
“Zhongli… do you have a house?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Venti.”
“Ah.”
Zhongli’s residence was no Golden House or Dawn Winery in terms of size, not that she could see at least, but it was incredibly eloquent in the way only Zhongli could be— there was clear thought behind each placement and choice of interior design, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the positioning of each item held relevancy to Liyuean culture too. If she weren’t an outlander, maybe she’d find herself pointing to a vase and going, “is that a historical artifact from 2000 years ago? In a funeral parlor consultant’s living room? ”
Actually, maybe it was a good thing she chose to leave Paimon with Xiangling today. Less chances of accidentally breaking something incredibly valuable, and ever since the Holy Lyre der Himmel, she’s had enough of broken artifacts.
Lumine picked up her teacup, her very expensive looking teacup, and drank her tea, her very expensive tea, out of it.
“Did people really see the Geo Archon in all those different forms?”
“While it’s not wrong that I’ve taken different forms in the past, some of these are most inaccurate— that is to say, fiction passed off as fact. There is only really one form accurately passed down in art throughout the years.”
She nodded in understanding. Of course, if your archon descended every year for the Rite of Descension, you’d probably get a good gist of the details, too.
“I’m not surprised. With the vast amount of Rex Lapis merchandise and artworks-”
“Ahh, I didn’t quite say they were perfect depictions, Miss Lumine,” the brunet interjected, “just that they were close. That’s not to say that it’s impossible, either— an old friend of mine has managed to do it.” Zhongli turned to look north of the living room, Lumine’s eyes following suit.
“You’re free to look closer. The tea, and I as well, will still be here.”
She had known it was a handscroll painting from a far, one that was supposedly the most accurate painting of his half-dragon, half-lin form, but it was upon stepping closer that she could truly appreciate the finer details. Amidst clouds and mists and whirlpools, amongst rocky mountains and fire, Morax soared the skies lonesome, the paper spattered with drops of ink and delicate calligraphy telling a story she couldn’t quite understand. Regardless, she found herself mesmerized by the creature Zhongli was known to take the form of— she hadn’t taken a good look before, too busy being a suspect of a planned death. She wondered if the painter could’ve known that, to the people of Liyue, that Morax’s final moments were not soaring the sky, but falling from it.
Zhongli doesn’t ask for her impressions, and Lumine doesn’t give any either. She only stood for a few seconds, perhaps a minute, longer, taking in the details, before returning to their tea time.
Due to the kindness of the Mao family, the traveler and her fairy companion had been granted a place of stay in the young chef’s bedroom. She still slept outside most of the time, the comfort of the stars in the sky incomparable to bland ceilings and candlelight, but colder nights called for warmer spaces, and inns were just a bad idea with her current financial status. Her wealth tended to fluctuate depending on whether Paimon wanted to eat out or eat something she cooked, but her meetings with Zhongli were taking a toll on her wallet.
Again, her fault for offering in the first place, but put against the God of Contracts, she was sure to keep her word— bound by a divine power or otherwise.
“Oooh, Lumine, whatcha doing?” Xiangling asked, peering over her shoulders, “oh, and I brought us some midnight snacks! Is ickle wickle baby Paimon still awake?”
“Xianglinggg! Paimon is not a baby!” said her toddler-sized companion, irritated, but not irritated enough to ignore the plate of peanut puffs on the table.
“Awww, baby is up past her bedtime!” Lumine cooed, “did big sis Lumi and big sis Xiangling wake you up?”
“Look, little Guoba is sleeping! What a good baby! Why can’t Paimon be like that?”
With puffed up cheeks, Paimon huffed at the two of them, “Lumi’s so mean to Paimon lately… wahhh…”
“Just me? Xiangling started it!”
“Poor baby, Paimon can have Lumine’s share of snacks then!”
Now just what was this about? Since when was Xiangling on Paimon’s side? Was leaving Paimon alone to serve as the youngest Mao’s taste tester a mistake after all? She always thought that Paimon would be the last being on Teyvat to betray her, and yet here she was.
“Thank you Xiangling… see, Lumi, this is why you draw like a baby! ” Before the traveler could cover the paper in defense, like what was the relation even how dare she insult the hand that feeds her , the young chef took a second look at her sketch… and giggled. She could still recall Amber’s laughter from when she tried to draw Andrius, and now here it was again.
“It’s just a first draft,” she explained hastily, despite no one really asking.
“Don’t mind Paimon, I think it’s cute! I’m sure Morax is smiling down at you right now.”
“Benevolent Rex Lapis, connoisseur of the arts that he is, I’m sure he’d be chuckling right now too,” Paimon didn’t even bother hiding her laughter, not that Xiangling would know just why it was so funny to her companion. Surely it wasn’t too bad for a first try? A half-dragon, half-lin creature was so much more difficult to draw than the head of a giant wolf she used to see on a weekly basis.
“Why were you drawing our archon anyway?”
Right, perhaps that would be strange. To them, she was just a traveler, not even a scholar of some sort, so there was no reason for her to be devout to a dead god. At most, she was just the suspected murderer who was cleared of suspicions. The link between them should have ended there.
Catching Paimon’s eye, she shook her head.
“I was reading some books about the history of Rex Lapis, so I guess thinking about him so much just gave me the urge to.”
It wouldn’t be wrong to say that she had spent a lot of time thinking about the Geo Archon, or perhaps just the gods in general, but in contrast to what Paimon seemed to think, she wasn’t actually planning on giving him a plush or some other token of the sort— rather, it hadn’t really crossed her mind. It wasn’t that she didn’t think they had formed a friendship, nor was she completely against the idea, but she just wasn’t feeling up to it, not with the evident distance between the two of them.
If she were to dissect the reason why, it was probably because she still didn’t really understand him yet. It was different with Venti, who despite being divine seemed just as human as Jean or Diluc or Kaeya, albeit an incredibly extraordinary, talented, alcoholic human. Even when he revealed himself as an archon, somehow things didn’t feel different for her at all. Maybe he wasn’t easy to read, maybe he was confusing, maybe she knew even less about his past than the Geo Archon’s— it didn’t matter, not when at the end of the day, he was still the Venti she did a heist for in Favonius Cathedral.
She knew Zhongli as a human before an archon, too, but it was different with him. Despite the fact that there was nothing meanspirited about his deception, it was difficult to see him as the not-a-god-anymore Zhongli, not with the way he carried himself— calm demeanor, profound knowledge, innate strength—
hypocrite as she may be, but perhaps it was because he still wasn’t quite human that she couldn’t understand him, couldn’t distinguish him from the majestic creature and the Statues of the Seven. It was easy to understand humans, but difficult to understand gods.
Lumine was more of a listener than a talker, though she would attribute this to the fact that Paimon talked enough for the both of them. Still, when she talked, she talked , and it might have been one of the few instances she had spoken more than 5 sentences in a row without interjection. Lumine, the talker, and Zhongli, the listener. Funnily enough, it was Zhongli that had brought this on, asking her about Paimon.
She loved and adored Paimon with her very being, she easily expressed as much to Zhongli knowing her little fairy was sleeping in her realm—the consequences of staying up to gossip and eat peanut puffs, truly— but, in the most affectionate way possible, she had began talking about Paimon’s extreme appetite.
“It makes you wonder if she somehow has… what, six stomachs in there? Of course, cooking isn’t much of an issue for me, though I also try not to overcook in case I deplete resources too quickly before nature could recover— meat and fish in particular. Still, that means buying meals in restaurants or stalls. The food tastes great, don’t get me wrong, but if a normal duo got two main courses, Paimon and I end up with five when the bill arrives. Just last month, we had spent 300,000 mora on food! My money pouch is… lighter than usual.”
Zhongli, in his patience to wait for her to finish talking, finally asked, “are our meals together not contributing to that cost?”
Despite the impoliteness of agreeing, she agreed anyway, knowing there wasn’t really a point to beating around the bush with him, “well they are , but I don’t mind— you’ve taught me a lot about Liyue, even things most people probably wouldn’t know, so it’s only fair.”
“Even if the deal was more in my favor than yours?” He didn't seem surprised, but he did seem curious, knowing he’d revealed nothing crucial to her search, and yet she continued to indulge him.
“If you really feel it was unfair, then feel free to make up for it,” she said with a smile, “an ornate vase, perhaps? Or a jade necklace? A golden hairpin?”
She was joking, what would she even do with an ornate vase anyway, but Zhongli had begun to look contemplative and she had begun to backtrack.
“Or nothing at all! No, not nothing, a meal would be best, of course. Homecooked, even, I think I’m getting tired of restaurants and tea houses.”
“I see… in that case, I suppose a change of pace could be good for us. Instead of lunch, should we have dinner instead? A homecooked meal sounds pleasant. How does Wednesday sound?”
Lumine breathed a sigh of relief. Dinner, dinner would be good.
Unexpectedly the dinner for three, Paimon included, had become a dinner for four, Childe included. It was odd, whether she stood beside the tiny pixie, or the supposedly dead Archon of Liyue, or the 11th Fatui Harbinger, but to be in said archon’s house cooking food together was just about the oddest thing nobody would ever see.
“If you won’t fight me, will you at least fight me through a cooking contest?” Lumine couldn’t help but laugh as Zhongli ignored Childe. “Now, comrade, don’t think you’re getting out of this too! A while ago you said you were a competent chef, so you better prove that!”
“And you’re the judge of a competent chef?”
“Nope! But we have someone who is,” simultaneously the two of them turned back to look at Paimon, who was clearly more excited for the meal than all three of them combined.
“Are you really just gonna float around watching us?” she asked amusedly, “you can help me stir the pot while I work on the chicken thighs.”
“But Paimon is a baby .”
“So now you’re suddenly a baby? When you don’t feel like doing work?” she rolled her eyes as Paimon giggled, leaving her space beside Lumine and moving next to Tartaglia, probably wanting to see if she could get a taste test out of him.
“Now what’s this with Paimon? The secret of your relationship… is she actually your child or something? I always thought you were younger than me, but…” now she knew the man was joking, but there was just something about his concerned expression that was just too well played that irked her.
“I’m not a mom!” so maybe she was a little… concerned about the matters of her age, being called old in particular, but couldn’t she have been… who knows, a big sister? “I’m still too young-”
“Miss Lumine,” her shoulders jerked upwards slightly. Despite it being his own kitchen, he had been mostly quiet thus far, listening to the two of them and humming here and there, so who could blame her for being a little startled at Zhongli’s sudden interference.
“The broth’s been boiling for a while, I think you can add your ingredients now,” she smiled sheepishly in return, thanking him before turning to her little station again. Six cloves smashed garlic, three slices of ginger, chicken thighs cut into small, bite-sized pieces, some dried up herbs and spices for flavor’s sake, and then it would be another… ten, perhaps fifteen minutes before she’d add the other ingredients. With time to spare, she ended up doing the same thing as Paimon— peering over the other two’s dishes to figure out what they were making.
“It feels a little bit like we’re having a birthday celebration, doesn’t it?” Childe said, “you know, isn’t it weird how we kind of know each other’s secrets, some of them anyway, but we don’t even know each other’s birthdays? Mine’s on the twentieth of July.”
“On the thirty-first of December.”
“Mine… actually passed a little recently?”
Tartaglia seemed to pause his actions, turning to look at her incredulously, “don’t tell me it was a few days ago or something? And you didn’t tell us?”
“No! Recent as in… maybe a week before the Rite of Descension?” Now that she thought about it for more than a minute, maybe something that happened a few months ago wasn’t very recent after all.
“Damn, we missed it completely then. So how old are you now?”
“Now I know you’re not that much of a gentleman, but have you ever heard of the phrase, never ask a woman her age?” Lumine retorted. Even if she hadn't lost count, there was no way she was telling him, “but I am old enough to drink alcohol… will you give me some? It can be your belated birthday gift to me!”
“What, the Mondo wines not to your taste? How about some Snezhnayan Fire-Water?” Fire-Water, huh. She was kind of curious what Diluc’s detested drink tasted like.
“Now Miss Lumine, you best be careful. I understand the temptation of indulgence, but I would not want you to end up like a certain old friend from Mondstadt.”
Oh poor, poor Venti. He wasn’t even here to retaliate, maybe she would do it for him?
“Speaking of old , isn’t Zhongli’s age more interesting anyway?” the aforementioned archon threw her a knowing look, before sighing. Better they discuss his age than hers, by her standards.
“Thousands of years old. Now, Childe, hand me that knife if you’re not planning on using it. Miss Lumine, the mortar and pestle please,” just like that, the conversation had shifted back into cooking, “and Childe, mind your potatoes. If the two of you plan on competing, shouldn’t you both be paying more attention to your dishes?”
Honestly she wanted to blame the Harbinger, but knowing him he would just blame her back, then they were back to being scolded by Zhongli, so all she could do was laugh apologetically and turn back to her soup.
“It’s getting late, comrade. Are you really not heading out yet?” Lumine looked down, a snoring Paimon laying her head on her lap. Little imp really went all out and ate herself to exhaustion.
“I’ll let her sleep a little longer,” she caught Childe’s eye and smiled, “I’d tell you to get home safely, but we both know that’s useless.”
“And I would have offered to walk you back to Xiangling’s place, but we both know-”
“It would be useless?”
“No, that I’m too much of a bad guy for that.”
She rolled her eyes, flexing her fingers outwards as she let a small gust of wind graze him, “just give up, I’m never seeing you as my cool, mysterious enemy. See you Sunday.”
Upon Tartaglia’s exit, she found Zhongli staring at her across the corridor. At some point she just figured the archon always looked like he was thinking deeply, but this time it looked like he was thinking of what to say to her.
“I haven’t told you any stories today, have I?”
“No, but unless you want me to leave already, we have time to talk,” Lumine looked back down at her lap again, “quietly, that is.”
“Then perhaps, while we’re here, I could show you a few other artifacts in my possession,” taking up his offer, she gently laid Paimon down on a pillow before following suit, walking away from the living room and right outside his quarters. Lumine dared not enter, but it didn’t seem as if Zhongli was planning on staying long inside either way. In the span of a few seconds he had grabbed a cloth-wrapped item, and led her back into the dining area.
“Miss Lumine, do you know how humans eventually learned to become immortal?”
“How?”
“It is through art,” Zhongli explained, “it is fascinating how art and immortality have become so closely linked together. It is through creation that humans become immortal— not their bodies, but their emotions, their souls. In the same vein, it is only through creation that an immortal stays immortal. Without creation, there is nothing to keep them immortal, whether they continue to walk the lands or perish into dust, if no one remembers, they are mortal.”
Zhongli , she had wanted to ask him, why are you telling me this? Her mouth could not bring itself to so much as whisper, only watching as the archon carefully unwrapped the artifact, revealing a sword so beautiful, masterfully carved from the purest of jades she had ever seen.
“This sword hewn from jade… despite the constant wear and tear of age, the jade edge, so bathed in blood, still retained a polished sheen as if brand-new. The blood was washed away in the rain of a thousand years,” Zhongli’s fingers grazed the blade, gaze solemn as he looked down at it, “yet the thoughts and grudges that gathered about it could not be so easily eliminated.”
“Miss Lumine, what do you think the jade represents in our culture?”
She drew closer to the blade as well, not daring to touch, simply eyeing the elegance of its cut, the regality of its color, “goodness, I suppose… and beauty.”
“Beauty?”
“The beauty of life.”
“That’s a good answer,” Zhongli replied, a small and brief smile on his lips, “a… friend of mine believed similarly. Nephrite, she claimed, had the soul of the Bishui's gentle heart, and will in time cleanse itself of the remnant grudges within, but, who would ease the agony that the jade itself feels for having becoming an instrument of slaughter? Compassionate, and yet…”
From the corner of her eye she watched him sigh to himself, momentarily at a loss on how to continue, before moving ahead with his story.
“This precious sword, carved as it once was to be given as a gift… jade once cut for love of peace and luxury. Peace , oh the pure agony the jade must have felt,” he chuckled lowly, a wry expression betraying the lack of humor, “when wine vessels are filled with blood, and when tender feelings are ripped asunder by cold ambition and reduced to dust on the wind, gifts ungiven and bonds unspoken will become sharp blades with which to cleave erstwhile friends.”
Minutes must have passed since Zhongli had stopped talking, and still Lumine could not get herself to utter a single word, her thoughts itself incoherent, but she knew that he had never been more human to her.
“Lumine,” she found herself holding her breath, “would you like to hold it?”
Her gloved hands flexed at her sides, yet neither one moved an inch closer to the blade, “I don’t think I could,” she replied honestly, “it looks too heavy for me.”
The man nodded, covering the sword with cloth once more, “it had been.”
Lumine’s presence spoke of divinity. The presence was weak, tainted by Teyvat herself, but it was well within his realm to detect even the slightest abnormalities, and it was significant enough to have noticed it upon first meeting.
A divine being parading around as though she were human, that seemed familiar. Was it by choice?
On the surface they might have been similar— an inherent strength, even with his gnosis gone, even with hers restrained— intelligence, in his wisdom, in her perception— lives lived from long ago, that he cannot forget, that she wanted to return to.
The key difference, however, was not in appearance; neither was it in skill, nor in power or fame. It was in purpose.
Archons protected their lands, fought for their people, did everything to protect that which they were responsible for, that which they owned. Not all gods abided by this, that much was clear, through misguided actions, their weakness, their corruption, but archons , at their core, held this purpose.
Lumine would appear the same at first glance, jade in her goodness, jade in the purity of her intentions, but it is in her visits, her questions, her hopeful glances, and wistful expressions that he learns the truth.
She protected the weak, fought for the people, helped the lands, but it was not her purpose, just fate diverting her course and making it so. It was that bit of selfishness that made her human.
It is why, despite their similarities, he looks to her to learn from her humanity, how she has adjusted so well, integrating herself with the people as if she’s been one of them for years, even learning their culture and customs from him.
“Why is it that, once you finally get a break, rather than taking a rest, you instead come to me? Is it that you want to hear one of my stories?” he asked her. It did not bother him as she made for pleasant company, especially over tea, but even the adepti tired after a long day of arduous tasks.
“Because you are my friend,” Lumine replied without hesitation, “it’s plain and simple.”
“Is that really the case?” he looked to his right, and though she had not been looking at him he could tell it was not a lie.
“Not always,” Lumine admitted, “but today it is.”
Zhongli let out a short hum, “I believe I understand what it is you mean to say. If I’m correct, you have no desire for any book translations or history lessons from me tonight.”
“I think I’ve learned a lot already. As a traveler, there should be some things I should figure out for myself, and maybe I’ll even have some stories to tell you in turn.”
“That would only be fair,” he agreed easily, “though if you wish to continue asking things within the scope of our contract, or even matters falling outside of it, you can still approach me for discussion.”
“Thank you,” Lumine replied with a smile, and he was glad to know she seemed to enjoy their discussions just as much as he did, “but enough of that. Let’s do something tonight. Zhongli, what are your hobbies?”
“I enjoy partaking in walks through the city — just like we are now. I find it very calming.”
The blonde nodded in agreement, “it is. I think the harbor will be one of the places I’ll miss most when I eventually have to leave Liyue.”
Leaving Liyue… as of now, there were still no known ways for an outlander such as herself to get into Inazuma, which would mean that the traveler was planning to return to Mondstadt some time soon.
“When do you plan on leaving? Please let me know beforehand. I will need adequate time to prepare a parting gift for you.”
He had expected her to refuse, both out of politeness and knowing her nature, but the look on her face told him she was actually considering it.
“A week from now? I can go back and forth from Mondstadt to Liyue without issue, so it’s not like I’ll be gone completely. Do you know how much of a fuss Childe will make if I don’t fight with him once a week? He’ll definitely pester you for a spar more than usual.”
Oh, he could imagine.
“I’m not against the idea, though. But, only if you let me prepare a present for you as well,” Lumine stopped in her tracks, “though that would make it more like an exchange, wouldn’t it?”
“A trade, then,” one of surprise, and Zhongli wondered if the transaction would be fair at all. Then again, he supposed it wouldn’t matter too much in this one instance. The worth of their gifts would come in the form of thought, and neither of them were very thoughtless individuals, “I agree to these terms.”
“Good! Then… is it okay if I give you yours early?”
It was rare for Zhongli to get caught off-guard, but Lumine had been able to do it, eyes narrowed as opposed to widened as he comprehended what had led to the situation, “had you planned this for tonight?”
“Not at all,” Lumine said with a laugh, for once being the one to lead him somewhere in the city, bringing him to sit down beside her, “actually, I was planning on giving this to you for no real reason other than, well, that I think of you as a friend. You just so happened to bring up something I could use as an excuse, so a trade wasn’t necessary in the first place. You don’t actually have to get me anything, by the way.”
“I’m not going back on my word,” he said, adamant in his decision despite no formal contract being made, “I suppose this is not all too bad, either. I will be able to properly prepare a gift of equal value.”
“I’m curious what this will value for, then,” with those words, she procured what he presumed to be the gift, a cloth laid atop it so he couldn’t make out the shape of the item on her lap, “I’m telling you this in advance, but even if you asked me what led to this decision, I don’t think I’d be able to explain.”
“Which by that, what is it you want to say?”
“That this is just something I like doing, kind of like how your hobby of going on walks,” Lumine replied with a shrug, “at some point I just realized I valued your companionship more than I thought, and I wanted to let you know.”
Zhongli stayed quiet, mostly out of consideration for the traveler, who seemed to be torn between saying any more or just handing him the gift immediately.
“Lumine,” he began, “you don’t have to explain yourself any further, I won’t be critiquing you. You letting me know to what extent you measure our friendship is more than enough for me to appreciate whatever it is you plan on giving me.”
That had not been a lie, for he knew beyond the gift, he would cherish the sentiment much more.
“Thanks,” she let out a sigh of relief, before finally uncovering the gift, “his name is Rex, by the way.”
His?
“Paimon wanted something more… cute, like Rexy, or Momo, but even though you’re my friend, isn’t that a little… sacrilegious? I pray to the Statues of the Seven nearly every day, after all.”
He waited for Lumine to personally hand him the present, and though he had already seen what it was, upon holding it, or him as she had said, he still found it difficult to comprehend.
He had seen many memorabilia of Morax throughout his lifetime. Literature, of course, were of the most common mementos, but paintings and sculptures were not exactly uncommon either, with smaller scaled statues being sold in the market as well, especially popular among the travelers and the devout during Liyue’s festivals. However, this was no item of worship, but instead a doll, not unlike what fathers and brothers would give their youngest kin. Moreover, this doll was not of Morax, not the forms he had been known for that is, but of him— not the god, but the funeral consultant.
Lumine had hinted she did not want him asking, that she would not be able to answer; although he could not understand much of the choice behind the craft, other than the implications of her being the one behind the creation, her reasons were more evident to him, and perhaps to her too, than she had made it out to be.
Ironically, despite the choice of name, it had not been Morax, but Zhongli.
In truth, he did not know what to do with the doll. He was far, far too old to find any entertainment in playing with it, though he figured the traveler did not think he would in the first place, nor was he planning on displaying it in his office for the public eye, knowing the overseer of the funeral parlor, and a certain Snezhnayan warrior would simply cause a ruckus about it.
However, hiding it away with the rest of his artifacts and remaining belongings from the past, as if he was ashamed, as though he had failed to recognize her sincerity, was not a choice he could take either.
“I believe… I will have a difficult time finding something of equal value, but I will do the most I can to ensure this will be the fairest of trades.”
Regardless, he had an abundance of time to think of what to do. There were more important matters for him to deal with. The traveler had found a method to measure the weight of her emotions; it was time for him to find his.