Archive of Our Own ^beta

Liyue Harbor truly comes to life in the evening. It is not a city that ever sleeps; rather, it is when the sun bleeds into the horizon and the first lanterns are lit that it is at its liveliest. Over the centuries, this has remained a constant. Xiao has long since learned to navigate the city from above, watching the bustling streets from atop sloping roofs, concealing the tap of his heels against tile with chatter from the streets below his feet.

From across the plaza, Xiao sees him: Rex Lapis sits in his favorite spot, enjoying a cup of tea as he listens to a man recount stories he knows far too well. Even at this distance, it’s clear even the power still thrumming under Rex Lapis’ skin can barely be contained by his physical vessel. It’s incomprehensible to think the mortals around him do not recognize him for the god he is. That they accept him as one of their own, dining, drinking, sharing stories with him. That they do not fear him.

He senses Xiao, no doubt. In the same way Xiao feels his presence like the gravity pulling his feet towards the earth beneath him, so too does Rex Lapis feel the presence of those within his orbit. Yet, just like the unwavering paths of the sun and moon across the sky, Rex Lapis moves only along his own course, unphased by those beneath him. He doesn’t look away until the storyteller finishes, eyes only darting up to where Xiao is perched once the man leaves.

Xiao takes this as his cue to blink over.

“Xiao,” greets Rex Lapis with a smile. “What an auspicious occasion it is to see you in the city.”

“Rex Lapis,” Xiao says with a bow.

“Please, just call me Zhongli. There is no need for Rex Lapis anymore.” He gestures for Xiao to step closer. “I heard you had quite the adventure in the Chasm. Did you find the answers you were seeking?”

“Yes. I am deeply grateful to you for saving me.”

“Ah, yes. The Traveler and his little companion extended their gratitude as well, and so insistently. I’m delighted to see you have become so close.”

There’s something in his voice that bothers Xiao; too light, too amused. “You knew I would sacrifice myself,” he says, “yet you did not stop me from going.”

Zhongli hums noncommittally. “You are free to do as you wish,” he says, closing his eyes and taking a small sip of tea. “Would you have wanted me to stop you? Are you upset that you lived?”

“No, I… I am thankful for your mercy,” says Xiao. “I was prepared to die. For millennia, I have endured my karmic debt, waiting for the day I succumbed to it. But… I realized I have those I wish to live for, too, and I cannot waste the chance you have given me.”

“Good.” Zhongli nods. “Come; sit and have some tea. I would like to hear more about your discoveries, and of those you risked your life to save.”

Xiao hesitates a moment before acquiescing. Sitting on the corner of such a bustling street under the light of street lamps, he feels too seen. Countless eyes upon him, potential threats around him. And, as he sits across from Zhongli, he leaves his back exposed to all of them.

But this is Zhongli. Rex Lapis, the god who would move mountains for a contract. There is no safer place to be.

Zhongli pours him a cup of tea. Xiao does not drink. He recounts the chaotic rifts in the Chasm, the tear in space he was able to cross to reach the Traveler and his group. He describes the domains they explored, the way the air seemed to exploit their desires and memories to trick them, and the strange device left behind by the nameless yaksha. Finally, the identity of the yaksha, his old friend and leader, and Bosacius’ final days as he clung onto the last of his sanity.

He leaves out the way he used the remnants of his powers to get the others to safety, and what he thought would be his last, fleeting regret as the darkness swallowed him.

“Are you satisfied?” asks Zhongli.

Xiao hesitates, considers the question. “I found the answers I was seeking. But I only uncovered more questions in their wake.”

Zhongli inclines his head, silently prompting him to continue.

“The others spoke of living as mortals once they had fulfilled their duties. Bosacius was especially fond of mortals,” Xiao says slowly. “You, too, chose to give up power to live among them.”

Zhongli nods. “In peace, there is no need for gods or adepti.”

“Peace…” Xiao stares down at the table, tracing the rim of his untouched teacup. “Yaksha know nothing but slaughter and war. What does peace mean to me?”

“Xiao.” At his name, he looks up, meets Zhongli’s molten amber eyes. He nearly flinches from their intensity. “Forgive me. Had our contract been different, perhaps you would not have suffered for so long.”

“No—I am indebted to you. I would have succumbed to karma long ago. I do not regret it.”

“Even still, I fear I have hindered your happiness,” says Zhongli. “You wish to know why I chose to walk among mortals. If you simply spend time with them, you will understand. Their resilience is extraordinary. They have an incredible ability to adapt. Under pressure, they truly shine. I am sure you’ve witnessed this yourself.”

Xiao nods. He thinks back to the group he met in the Chasm: the pragmatism of Yelan; the cleverness of Yanfei; the steadfastness of Itto and the loyalty of Shinobu. Most of all, Aether, whose unbreakable spirit seemed to glow even in the bleak darkness, even as he kept walking impossibly deeper into the uncertainty of the abyss.

“You have spent countless lifetimes protecting mortals, and in that time, they have grown strong. You nurtured them, allowed them to thrive. What was your sacrifice for, if you do not allow yourself to trust their strength in return?”

Trust, Xiao thinks. There has been little he allowed himself to trust in his life. Few things last long enough. Even himself; one day, he will inevitably succumb to his karma and go mad, until the being bearing the identity of Xiao no longer exists in its physical husk. Already there are moments, when he retreats to the darkest recesses of his mind, that he feels himself slipping into moments of insanity.

But, even that has lessened as of late. The binds of his karmic debt don’t strangle him as tightly as they used to; fits are fewer and further apart. When darkness threatens to overtake his mind, the echo of Aether’s bright, cleansing aura lights the way.

Zhongli’s smile is gentle. “We have lived long; that is true. Change does not move us the same way it does for humans. We dwell on the past rather than live in the present.” He reaches out a hand, places it on top of Xiao's own. The warmth of it feels foreign. “You have served your duty to Liyue a hundred times over, fulfilled your contract, and now this land is ready to stand on its own. It is time for you to find your own path.”

“If you wish,” says Xiao.

“No,” Zhongli says firmly. “You do not need to do anything for my sake anymore. I am nothing but a mortal. You are your own master now.”

Xiao grimaces. Zhongli’s guidance has always been invaluable, his wisdom enduring. While it’s been long since he needed Zhongli to outright command him, their contract had always been a comforting pillar for him, something to orient himself around. For a long time, it had been necessary. It was easier to live as someone else’s weapon than to cut a path of his own that would inevitably lead to ruin.

But things have been changing, if gradually. Xiao has felt it too. Even the most immovable stone can be carved into a river over time.

“I am not trying to burden you; I wish only for your happiness,” says Zhongli. “Over the years, you have stayed by my side. Your battle has been long and your suffering, endless. I cannot relieve you of it; only you can.”

Xiao closes his eyes and nods. “I will… try,” he says.

—

The temple of Pervases faces west. From the overlooking hill, Xiao watches the sun set over the slanted jut of the Chasm. At this distance, it looks as tall as any other mountain carved by Rex Lapis’ spear. It’s strange to realize how deep its mysteries truly go, looking at it only from the outside. But Liyue is a land bleeding with history, legends lying under its plains; Xiao himself carved out his own place among those legends as he slaughtered countless demons, death and destruction lost to time. Centuries ago, this was a battlefield. Now, only the mountains remain.

A shrill voice pierces through his reverie. “Hey, it’s Xiao!”

Xiao turns to see Aether walking up to him. Paimon floats over his shoulder; they wear identical expressions of surprise and curiosity. “Oh, Xiao,” says Aether. “I didn’t think you would still be here.”

Xiao nods in greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, I came to pay my respects to Pervases.”

“Pay your respects?”

“Yeah.” Aether rubs the back of his neck. “Wang Ping’an offers incense to anyone who wishes to, but not many people know about the temple or come out this way. So, I try to stop by whenever I can.”

Something unidentifiable swells in Xiao’s chest. “I see. Anyone can… pay their respects?”

“Yep!” says Paimon. “Are you thinking of joining us?”

“Oh, have you prayed before, Xiao?”

Xiao shakes his head. He’s never had anyone to pray to but Rex Lapis, for whom it was unnecessary. Perhaps, long ago, when he was still slave to the master before Rex Lapis, he prayed to the gods for mercy and freedom. But he would’ve quickly learned prayer was meaningless, and those times have long since passed.

“Why don’t you come with us, then?” Aether asks. “I’m sure Pervases would appreciate it.”

A silly thought, considering Pervases is long dead, but mortals seem especially fond of things that demystify death and make them feel closer to the departed, if only for their own comfort. Xiao follows the two of them into the temple. The smell of incense is immediate the moment they step through the threshold, but not overpowering. The room is simple: an offering table set in front of a statue of Pervases, flowers and food to the side. A few burnt sticks of incense sit in the center of a censer, thin wisps of smoke curling over stumps of ash.

It’s not impressive; compared to the temples made in Rex Lapis’ honor, it can’t even be called modest, but it’s enough for Xiao. Pervases would not have wanted more.

“Oh, Traveler, it’s good to see you—” The man Xiao recalls as the false adeptus jumps at the sight of him. “Ah! Conqueror of Demons!”

“Just Xiao will suffice.”

“Oh, no, someone like me– to you, I- I couldn’t possibly,” the man says.

“As I understand it, you rebuilt this temple. Your service is commendable. There is no need for formalities.”

“I- it would have been nothing without the Traveler. That it has reached even your ears, I am humbled.” He clears his throat, wrings his hands. “Are you here to pray too…?”

“Yes, if you would not mind.”

“Of course not! It is nothing short of an honor to be graced by the presence of such an esteemed adeptus.” He scrambles to offer incense to Xiao; his hands shake violently, ash flaking off the vibrating ends of smouldering sticks as he hands over the lit incense a moment later.

Xiao stands in front of the statue. He’s not sure what exactly paying respects to the dead entails. Nobody prays to him specifically, and if they ever did he does not remember, but sometimes he hears the call of the people of Liyue, their prayers to the adepti. Often, they pray for good fortune, or wealth, but such is useless to the dead. Sometimes, they sing the adepti’s praises or thank them for their deeds, unnecessary as that is. Others wish them well. It’s a uniquely mortal thing—prayer, to the dead or the gods. There is no need for such frivolities for the adepti, no need for prayer when one wants for nothing. If Xiao were to mourn the dead he’s left behind, he might spend the rest of his life doing so.

Still, it is not a bad thing to honor and remember the fallen. Xiao thinks of the rock he wished to bring from the Chasm to put alongside this altar, in memory of Bosacius. What he might say to them now, if their spirits stood before him. He recalls Pervases’ face, the sound of his voice, memories that have not been unearthed in centuries.

Pervases, my old friend, he thinks. If only you had not fallen so soon. You would have been pleased to see the Liyue of today, the fruits of your sacrifice. You too would have enjoyed walking amongst the humans.

There is no response; Xiao did not expect one.

Aether and Paimon bow before stepping forward and placing their incense in the censer. Xiao copies them, staying a moment extra to watch the incense burn. Oddly, his mind feels a little clearer, as if the weight of his thoughts have been lifted from him and scattered with the smoke. It is not a bad feeling.

Prayers done, they say their goodbyes to the man, who nearly trips over himself bowing to Xiao. “Wow, you really spooked him back then, didn’t you?” Paimon says into Xiao’s ear as they leave.

“I merely reprimanded him,” Xiao says. “Why would he be afraid of me? I do not kill humans.”

Beside them, Aether chuckles. “You’re pretty intimidating, you know.”

Xiao is so puzzled he stops in his tracks. “Do you find me intimidating?”

“Me?” Aether laughs. “Oh, no, of course not. But you have to admit, the whole ‘Conqueror of Demons’ thing would definitely scare someone with a weaker constitution. Even Yanfei was a little intimidated by you.”

Xiao mulls this over. Being treated as the Conqueror of Demons is cumbersome, though in the past he did not mind as it kept others away. Now… “I do not want humans to fear me. That would further me from my goal.”

“Your goal?”

“My fellow yaksha wished to live among the humans,” says Xiao. “Rex Lapis chooses to live like one. It is… vexing. I do not understand what it is about mortals that draw them so.”

“And your goal is… to understand?”

“Yes.” Xiao nods. “You walk among humans as well, even though you are from another world. Perhaps you might help shed some insight.”

“I can try,” Aether says, “but what brought this on? I thought you didn’t like getting close to humans.”

“I am the last of the yaksha; I carry the remnants of their hopes and dreams upon my shoulders, and I wish to see them come to fruition.”

Aether’s eyebrows furrow. “You want to do that with me?”

“Yes,” Xiao says, and then less firmly, “…If you have the time.”

He knows Aether likely does not; between traveling across nations and trying to find his sister, he has better things to do than bother with something as trivial as this. Making a request knowing the likely outcome is rejection—Xiao feels extraordinarily presumptuous. He feels silly. He wants to teleport far, far away, let the depths of the Chasm swallow him up for good, but Aether only smiles, and Xiao feels a glimmer of hope unfurling in his heart.

“For you, always,” Aether says.

—

No matter how often he passes through Liyue Harbor, crowds never become less uncomfortable for Xiao. Although people are unaware of his identity and status, he stands out and naturally turns heads. Aether, on the other hand, is both popular and striking. It is impossible to walk two steps without being accosted by one of his acquaintances.

Cautious of his karma, Xiao stands back as one of the Millelith soldiers strikes a conversation with Aether. They are friendly with him. Too friendly, Xiao thinks, bristling as the man reaches out to rest a hand on Aether’s shoulder. And Aether—he is too trusting, to allow someone to touch him so freely. It’s baffling. Xiao wants to step in, but Aether hasn’t shown any indication that he is bothered or needs help, so he restrains himself.

Paimon throws him a look, eyebrows raised.

Whatever the two are speaking about, it gets resolved quickly. It’s no more than a few moments after the man leaves before a young woman greets them. She seems even friendlier with Aether, though she does not try to touch him. He apologizes for missing her last show; she understands he’s busy. He asks about the progress on her next play; she enthusiastically tells him it’s almost done, and that he’s invited when it premieres—along with his friend, she adds, as she spares a shy glance at Xiao.

Aether seems to find that funny. His laugh is light, melodic, and he promises with a wide smile to be there.

“Sorry about that,” Aether says when she leaves and they have more than a few uninterrupted minutes. “You wanted to go to Liyue Harbor with me, but it feels like we aren’t actually spending much time together…”

“I wasn’t under the impression that I was owed your full attention,” Xiao says. “You are allowed to have friends.”

Aether’s eyebrows furrow. “Are you upset?”

“Why would I be?”

Aether frowns. “I know this is probably overwhelming for you. We can go somewhere quieter. And Paimon can fend off anyone who tries to bother us.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! Why does Paimon have to do all the work?”

“Please?” says Aether. “I’ll treat you to whatever you want at Wanmin Restaurant.”

“Paimon knows what you’re doing. You just want some alone time with Xiao,” she huffs. “Fine.”

They set a leisurely pace away from the pier. Paimon fulfills her assigned duty with surprising dedication, fielding greetings and questions from anyone who approaches. Her voice remains a constant in the background while they walk, but they’re otherwise left alone as they ascend the steps up Feiyun Slope.

Liyue Harbor is a beautiful city, bursting with color, every surface filled with intricate stonework and interwoven architecture. At the dusk of the Archon War, it had been little more than a smattering of wooden homes on the edge of the sea. Xiao had been skeptical then, that humans could survive without Rex Lapis’ guidance, but even millennia ago they were resourceful. They learned to carve the stone Rex Lapis raised from the sea, cut down forests to build their ships, and reforge their civilization to rival even the Guili Assembly.

Observing the city from the rooftops does not truly capture the scale of it. Xiao never thought anything but the mountains shaped by Rex Lapis would make him feel small, but walking under the shadow of the towering buildings and arching walkways is almost humbling.

Aether chatters away, pointing out places he frequents, vendors he’s built rapport with. It’s all very mundane, very… human, but Xiao listens closely and makes note; it’s a part of Aether’s life he’s never before been privy to, and Aether is sharing it with him. Xiao cannot recall the last time anyone ever shared such minutiae of their life with him. Perhaps nobody ever has.

They cross the bridge to Chihu Rock. It’s busier here, as usual, but not overwhelming. When someone passes too close to them, Aether buffers himself between them and Xiao without skipping a beat. His arm brushes lightly against Xiao's own, fleeting but warm. “Sorry!” he says, quickly pulling away, and Xiao only finds himself staring down at the space left empty between them.

Aether shows Xiao around the vendors in the plaza. He is, of course, familiar with all of them as well. They try to grab his attention as he passes by, but Aether only waves back apologetically.

A voice calls out to Aether; “That’s Granny Shan,” he says. “She sells toys. Want to take a look?”

Xiao isn’t sure what exactly he’d do at a toy stand, but he nods and follows.

“Aether, boy, it’s good to see you,” says Granny Shan. “I’ve recently come up with some new designs; let me show you.”

She takes out something large and flat, in the design of what seems to be a sea serpent with a long, trailing tail. After that, she shows them a different design, in the shape of a silk flower. A third looks like the head of a hilichurl. “They're kites,” explains Aether. “You can fly them in the air. Cool, right?”

“Lanterns released into the sky, kites flown in the air, gliding contraptions strapped to one’s back,” Xiao says. “Humans have no limit to their fascination with flying.”

Aether laughs. “You can’t blame them. Flying is fun.” His expression turns wistful. “You know, Lumine and I used to… ah, never mind. It’s no use thinking about it now.”

Xiao is curious, but he lets it go. Aether always grows so distant when he thinks about his sister; sometimes, he seems to think fondly of her, but other times, the thought of her upsets him. Xiao can’t imagine what it’s like to share blood with another being in this world, let alone miss them with the ferocity that Aether does.

They peruse the rest of Granny Shan’s wares—Xiao with polite disinterest while Aether checks each and every piece. There’s a wide variety on display along with the kites: play weapons; carved figures; knitted animals; an assortment of knick-knacks. It’s an eclectic collection, but likely to appeal to any child.

“This one reminds me of you,” Aether says, holding up a small wooden carving of a bird.

“Hm,” grunts Xiao. The handiwork is surprisingly deft for a children’s toy. The paint is vibrant, colorful with shades of green and blue and purple, but not so much as to seem tacky. “It’s not bad.”

Aether beams at the approval. “I’ll take this one then,” he says. He exchanges Mora with Granny Shan, who wraps the toy up for him. Xiao doesn’t understand what exactly someone like Aether plans to do with it, but supposes he isn’t meant to. Adepti have no need for physical possessions, and very few would survive across centuries anyhow. It’s easier not to form sentimental attachments to such things. But Aether seems happy with his purchase, even if it’s seemingly nonsensical.

They’ve no sooner turned and left the stall before a shriek pierces the air; a moment later, something barrels into Aether. Xiao’s spear is in his hand before he even thinks to summon it, energy gathering around him.

“Aether-gege! You’re back!”

There’s a boy and a girl wrapped around Aether’s waist, their thin arms encircling him in a hug. The surprise on Aether’s face melts into something fond. “Hey, you two,” he says. “Where’s A-Fei?”

“He’s sick today,” says the boy.

Paimon floats up to them, panting. “They ran too fast for Paimon to stop them.”

“It’s okay,” says Aether. “They’re just saying hi.”

“You know these children?” asks Xiao. His spear dissipates in his hand, forgotten.

“Yeah, we play pirates sometimes; I’m always the pirate.” He laughs at whatever expression shadows Xiao's face. “It’s okay,” he says. “They’re just curious. You don’t have to play with them.”

The two finally unstick from Aether and notice Xiao. They turn both their gazes towards him at once. Xiao’s skin prickles under the attention, even though he knows they’re harmless. He’s never spent time around human children, and he doesn’t know what to do besides stand there and avoid making any sudden movements.

“You dress funny,” says the boy.

The girl regards him with sharp interest. “Are you Aether-gege’s boyfriend?”

“What?” says Xiao. “No.”

“Why not?”

What kind of question is that? Xiao thinks. “We are… friends.”

“Oh…” She frowns. “But Aether-gege is nice and handsome and strong, why don’t you want to be his boyfriend?”

“I didn’t say anything like that,” Xiao says. Then mentally backtracks. “I’m sure he would be a good partner to whomever he fancies.”

Aether clears his throat. “Being nice and handsome aren’t the only requirements for a boyfriend. And friendship is just as valuable, if not more, than a romantic relationship. Xiao is very important to me, even if he isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Okay.” She seems to accept that, though she continues her scrutiny of Xiao. He’s never cared much for human approval, much less from a child, but a strange part of him does not want to leave a bad impression. “I like your mask,” she says, reaching out towards his hip.

It’s hard to keep up with the child’s train of thought. Xiao frowns and side-steps her hands. “You shouldn’t get too close to me.”

“Why?”

He opens his mouth and closes it without a word. How does one explain the concept of karmic debt and its taint to human children? “You will be hurt.”

“Why?”

Xiao holds in a sigh of exasperation, and turns to Aether helplessly.

“Xiao-gege is an adeptus, the Conqueror of Demons, and he’s very powerful so humans aren’t allowed to get too close to him,” Aether says. “Isn’t he cool?”

The two children regard Xiao with the newfound information. The girl looks curious while the boy seems unimpressed. “Do you know any adeptus games?” he asks.

“I hunt demons,” says Xiao. “There is no time for games.”

“That sounds fun,” says the girl, clapping. “Can we play that? You can be the demon.”

“I…” Xiao flounders. He looks over again to Aether, who’s hiding a laugh behind his hand. “How would we… play this?”

There are no rules, of course; the game doesn’t even exist to begin with, but somehow Xiao gets roped into it anyways. The children come up with what amounts to a modified game of tag on the spot, assigning themselves the role of adepti and Xiao and Aether the role of demons. Paimon is… Paimon. The goal is to find and “exorcise” the demons by catching and tagging them with a talisman before the demons can catch and eat Paimon.

“Will you be all right?” asks Aether.

“I will control myself,” Xiao says, surprised with himself that it comes out genuine. “If it becomes too much to handle, I will leave.”

That does not prove necessary. They win the game with little effort, even though neither Aether nor Xiao were trying very hard to. The children demand another, which they win, and another after that to break the tie. The sun has started setting by the time they conclude, with the children narrowly beating them. Or, at least, it’s as much of a victory Xiao and Aether allow without making it too obvious they’re going easy on them.

It’s a strange experience, one Xiao doesn’t think he’s ever had. A novelty even for his thousands of years. He does not remember being a child, or even playing games. Perhaps he was never one, born instead as the hunter he is, a fully formed weapon designed to kill. Such proclivities would not have been passed through his heredity.

“You’re smiling,” Aether says once the children have waved goodbye and run off, trying to make it home before their curfew.

“Ah.” Xiao blinks, trying to school his expression back to normal. “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s nice,” Aether says quickly. “I’m glad you had fun.”

Fun, Xiao thinks, turning the word over in his mind. He hadn’t expected to enjoy today, but he did. Made tolerable in Aether’s presence, more pleasant than unpleasant. It was fun.

Now that the sun has descended below the horizon, the day is quickly losing light. The rest of the evening is spent eating—Aether and Paimon in particular wander the night market with unrestrained enthusiasm, buying any food that catches their eye, while Xiao declines to eat altogether—and afterwards, finding somewhere in the city to retire for the night. It's not a necessity for Xiao, but Aether insists. If Xiao wants to understand the lives of humans, he can’t just teleport to Wangshu Inn whenever he feels like it, after all.

It’s no surprise the innkeeper recognizes Aether. They seem to know each other well, even. The room Aether booked is comfortable enough for the two of them, with the kinds of amenities Xiao would expect from a human abode. The baths are communal; Aether sheepishly leaves to wash up while Xiao opts to wait for a quieter time. Paimon disappears into whatever dimension she comes from with a sleepy, “Goodnight.”

The moon is just peeking over the skyline when Aether settles into bed. There are no threats to stay alert for, no monsters to protect against, but Xiao watches as Aether drifts to sleep. Looking down at Aether’s peaceful face, feeling his own eyelids droop heavily, he realizes not once today did he feel the pain of his karmic debt.

—

“Traveler! Adeptus Xiao!”

Aether pauses mid-sentence, mouth hanging open. Surprise seems to keep him from responding to the greeting right away. Xiao spots the source of the voice first: sat at a table, Yanfei waves at them from the other side of the street. Beside her sit Itto and Shinobu, and upon closer inspection Ushi, whose horns barely peek over the table.

“I’m surprised to see you in the city,” Yanfei says as they approach. “You don’t normally like crowds, do you, Xiao?”

“I do not want mortals to be tainted by my karma,” he says.

“Well, that wasn’t a problem around us, was it? Join us; we’ll order more food. These two have spent the past couple days trying everything on the menu.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary—” Aether trails off as Paimon lets out a celebratory cheer and joins the group. “Er, okay, but I’ll pay for our share.”

“Don’t be silly.” Yanfei waves them off. “This is a special occasion; it’s not every day you both are around. How long have you been in town?”

“About two days,” Aether says, sitting down sheepishly across from her, leaving just enough space for Xiao between him and Itto. He turns to Itto and Shinobu. “I hope Liyue has been treating you guys better than when you first arrived.”

“Boss almost got arrested again,” says Shinobu.

“Again?”

“How was I supposed to know those ships weren’t just for display? They’re just sitting there, begging for anyone to get on! Hasn’t anybody in Liyue heard of signs?” Itto protests.

“Would you even read them if they did?” says Shinobu.

“Well, you can’t blame me when they don’t! Thankfully we got Yanfei here, else I’d be in jail for sure,” he adds, bellowing out a laugh. “She was just telling us about that Morax guy before you showed up; he sounded like a real cool dude. Man, I can’t believe he’s dead! Imagine if the Shogun kicked the bucket, and we had to listen to the Tenryou guys all day instead? That would be horrible.”

Shinobu elbows him. “Morax was Xiao’s boss, you realize?”

“No way,” Itto gasps. “Aw man, sorry dude. That must have been tough.”

It’s strange to accept condolences when Xiao spoke to a very much alive Morax only days ago, but it’s not like he is at liberty to correct them. “Rex Lapis knew his time was coming to an end. His parting is not something to feel regret over,” he says. It is not a lie, after all.

“Wow, brutal,” Itto says. “But I get what you mean; he lived a real long time. It’s kinda crazy that gods can die just like us, huh?”

Aether exchanges a glance with him. Nobody seems to want to bring up the fact that Xiao himself nearly died the last time they were together, but Paimon can never resist the opportunity to make a dig at Itto. “It’s good to see you’re as dense as ever, Bull-Chucker.”

“Who are you calling dense, you flying lavender melon?”

Thankfully, it’s that moment the food arrives, cutting through the rising tension. Nobody is more excited than Itto, whose chopsticks descend upon the dishes without hesitation, though Paimon is close competition. Aether works more deliberately: he gathers a slice of duck, some thin scallions, and inserts them into a bao before adding a spoonful of sauce on top. Xiao makes a face; sauces are messy, and he does not like eating with his hands. Nor does he understand why anyone would come to a restaurant to put together their own meal. Humans seem to revel in making things more complicated than they should be.

He is content to sit back and watch the others eat their fill, but Aether offers the finished bao to him, presenting it to Xiao proudly. “I know you don’t like dishes you have to assemble yourself, so here!”

“You should eat it. I do not need food.”

“People don’t always eat just because they need to, or because they’re hungry.”

“That makes no sense. What other purpose is there for food?”

Aether laughs. “Sometimes, they eat for their own enjoyment, or to share a meal with their friends.”

“I see…” Sharing a meal with Aether does not sound entirely unpleasant. There are few others he would even consider it with.

Aether angles the bao towards him. “Do you want to try it?”

Xiao eyes the proffered bao in Aether’s hand dubiously before leaning forward to take a bite. Aether’s eyes widen in surprise, a squeak escaping him, and Xiao has to hold his wrist steady to ensure the ingredients, much less the sauce, don’t make a mess of them.

He chews slowly. The bao itself holds a hint of sweetness while the sauce is savory. The fat from the duck bursts in his mouth; the meat is dense but easy to chew, the skin providing a slight crunch. Much more complex than the simple, sweet softness of almond tofu, but not distasteful. He swallows. “It is adequate.”

Aether grins. “You want the rest?”

He shakes his head. “You should eat.”

Aether looks like he wants to make one last effort to convince him but decides otherwise, stuffing the rest of the bao into his mouth in one bite. Xiao watches his eyes widen, his face light up; listens as a small, pleased noise escapes him. He feels satiated at the sight: cheeks round and full, mouth upturned, eyes creasing at the corners. “It’s good!” Aether says. “You really don’t want more?”

“I would rather see you eat your fill.”

Aether turns his face quickly to hide the way his face flushes. It’s an odd response to witness, a cause and effect Xiao is unfamiliar with. “More for me, then,” Aether says, picking up his chopsticks to grab another slice of duck.

The meal passes with idle chatter. There is little purpose to it. Discussion that is not about work, information that does little to teach, debate without a victor. Simply enjoying the exchange of words, the sound of another’s voice and the warmth of their company. This, too, is inexplicably human.

True to his word, Xiao's eyes remain on Aether. Aether talks when he is not chewing. He is animated as he does, face lighting up in earnest, hands arcing through the air, sometimes forgetting to take a bite of food. There is an odd sense of satisfaction to be gleaned from watching someone else enjoy food, a strange protectiveness that swells through him like a foaming tide. The instinct to nurture, to provide for another, so at odds with Xiao's own war-hungry nature. Perhaps that is why Verr Goldet will bring him food even when she knows he does not care to indulge in such things, or why Aether occasionally makes him almond tofu and smiles as he watches Xiao take a bite, as if he were the one eating.

“I was wondering,” starts Yanfei, “if you don’t mind me asking, at least… for what occasion did you choose to come to the harbor? Not to make it sound like you’re unwelcome, of course, but it’s certainly a surprise. Not even the Lantern Rite drew you in the past.”

It takes Xiao a moment to realize he’s the one being addressed. “Ah. Recent… events have convinced me it would be beneficial to walk more amongst humans. To understand them. To trust in their strength. And that, in order to do so, I must experience their lives for myself,” he says. “I understand you yourself have lived with a foot in both the human and adeptus realms.”

“More human than adeptus, to be honest. I might have my father’s lineage, but I’m human at heart,” she says. “And besides, I never accepted a contract with Rex Lapis; serving as an adeptus was never my fate, and I make a better legal advisor anyhow. I know human laws better than anyone.”

“And the humans—they accept you?”

“Well, I can’t say it’s always easy. Some people take a look, see the horns, the scales, and it doesn’t matter how you act; they’ll always treat you like an other. I can’t even tell you how many discrimination cases I’ve handled for outlanders over the years. Humans can be fearful of what they don’t understand, and what challenges the things they know. But there is more good than bad in the end.”

“I hear that!” says Itto. “Used to get lots of crap from people in Inazuma for being an oni. That we’re evil demons who eat kids or whatever. All sorts of mean stuff. Not many of us around to correct them, you know, so everyone’s got crazy misconceptions about us. But it’s no big deal. Just had to prove ‘em all wrong, show them I’m actually a great guy. Which isn’t hard when I actually am the greatest oni around. But when I was young, it was rough; the only person I had after my parents passed was the woman who took me in. Without her, I wouldn’t be half the oni I am today.”

“So you were also raised among humans,” says Xiao.

“Yep! They’re not so bad, you know! Granny Oni taught me a lot about life, about family, and everything in between. But I gotta admit, things were tough for a while. Some people can be real cruel for no reason.”

“Not everyone can see past their prejudice,” Shinobu adds. “They have ideas of what you should or shouldn’t be, and dislike when you don’t fit into that mold.”

“Most people are great though, so don’t let that get you down!” Itto says, reaching out to pat Xiao on the shoulder, presumably as a reassuring gesture. “People still don’t like me sometimes, but usually it’s got nothing to do with being an oni. Just can’t please everyone.”

Yanfei nods. “There are all sorts of people in this world,” she says. “And you’re right; you can’t understand them without experiencing the different aspects of humanity for yourself. Their lives, their hardships, the good and the ugly—everything that makes them human.”

“I see,” Xiao says. “I suppose I still have a significant task ahead of me.”

Itto points to himself. “Hey, if you need any help, I’m your guy!”

“Don’t you need to go back to Inazuma sometime? How are you going to help?” says Paimon.

“Even you must’ve heard of a little thing called letters, right? Xiao and I can be pen pals!”

“You’re going to write a letter?”

“Well, I don’t know how much I can assist you beyond legal matters,” Yanfei says as the two resume bickering, “but I’m always willing to lend an ear.”

Finding himself growing exhausted of conversation, Xiao simply says, “Thank you,” and lets the conversation move on. Yanfei realizes she won’t be receiving a more elaborate response and gracefully pivots to another topic with Shinobu, leaving Xiao to ruminate in his thoughts. Perhaps one day, such socialization will not tire him, but he supposes it may yet take another millennium.

Aether lays a hand on his forearm. Xiao looks down, where their skin touches, then at Aether, who looks back at him in understanding. Are you okay? his eyes say. He’s been quiet for a while, Xiao realizes, sitting back to observe rather than engaging in conversation, though Xiao is hardly one to point at others for being reticent. He knows all too well what it’s like to need to retreat into the safety of his own mind.

Xiao nods; Aether’s touch retreats, leaving him cold. He swallows down his protest.

They take a stroll around the docks after their meal, basking in the midday sun, the afterglow of a good meal shared with even better company. Gulls cry out overhead; in the distance, bells ring. Street vendors shout their wares, call out the pretty lady in red, yes you, trying to grab their attention. Itto in particular is easily distracted, easily tempted, and easily convinced into almost buying an authentic and antique noctilucous jade carving for a special price before Shinobu stops him.

Aether hangs farther back from the rest. Xiao slows his stride to keep pace. “Something is on your mind,” he says.

“It’s not that I don’t know whether or not to say it,” says Aether. “Just that I don’t know how.”

“I will not judge you for trying.”

“I know.” Aether looks up, towards the cloudless sky, searching for something in the heavens. He’s silent for a long moment, before he begins to speak. “The universe is vast; I’ve traveled far in my lifetime, seen things most will never see,” he says softly. “My sister and I explored the corners of the universe together, across different worlds, before landing in Teyvat. We experienced so much in our travels: the rising of civilizations, the destruction of societies. Even here, the stories are all the same. The people of this world are not so different from those back home, or in the next galaxy.” He turns to look at Xiao, and in his eyes is a steady warmth. “What I’m trying to say is… you asked me how I walk among them. The truth is, I don’t believe the differences between us and the humans of this earth are as irreconcilable as you think.”

Xiao doesn’t respond. Doesn’t know what to say, exactly. He can’t do much more than stare back under the heat of Aether’s gaze.

He forgets, sometimes, that just as he is an existence set apart from humans, so too is Aether. Xiao can feel the power thrumming within him, muted but there nonetheless. Enduring, undeniable; under his skin is something otherworldly and cosmic. Like a constellation of distant, twinkling stars that one needs to squint into the clearest of night skies to see. Had his powers not been taken, perhaps he might shine bright enough to eclipse the sun.

“You don’t think yourself capable of living amongst humans, but you’re here now,” Aether continues, a small smile breaking across his face. “The willingness to challenge yourself, to witness new things—even that much is enough.”

“It feels like too much,” says Xiao. The honesty comes out strange, lying heavy on his tongue.

“That’s okay too. You don’t need to do everything. That’s the thing about people: they’ll accept what you’re willing to give, and it’s up to you to decide how much that is.”

Xiao nods. No more words are needed; that is enough. They’ve fallen behind the rest of the group, familiar voices drowned out by the hubbub of the harbor, the bells and the gulls, but Aether makes no attempt to catch up. Xiao falls into step beside him.

Together, they make their way across the pier.

—

They see Itto and Shinobu off at the harbor the next morning. The conditions are unfavorable; fog rolled in overnight, blanketing the bay and obscuring the rising sun. Wind buffets ship sails, churns up waves, whips through their hair. This does little to dampen Itto’s unrelenting optimism.

“If you ever make your way to Inazuma, don’t be a stranger!” he says. “I’ll treat you guys to a meal anytime, just hit me up!”

The likelihood of that is slim enough to be effectively nonexistent, but Xiao nods.

The weather is too unpleasant to stay for long. It’s coldest here, at the water’s edge, where the spray of waves leaves behind a wet chill. They retreat farther inland once the ship has unmoored and their last goodbyes are waved, and spend the morning around Feiyun Slope. Paimon elects to rest a little longer and vanishes in a flurry of stars, but not before emphatically wishing Aether luck—for what, Xiao has no idea, and Aether only turns pink and refuses to answer when he expresses curiosity.

Morning passes sleepily. After a simple breakfast, Aether stops by the bookshop to peruse its latest selection and chat briefly with the shopkeeper. They settle into a quiet corner of a teahouse overlooking the harbor, over the lazy, rolling blanket of fog. Rather than pass time with idle chatter, Aether reads aloud his latest volume of Rex Incognito, just quiet enough for the two of them. Xiao closes his eyes and listens, until the world becomes nothing but Aether’s voice.

The wind changes. The sun breaks through the fog around noon. Within the hour the sky clears, revealing drifting ships, circling waterfowl, and a glittering blue sea joining seamlessly with the sky.

Aether holds his hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun as he squints into the distance, towards the bay. “Hey, that looks like the Alcor,” he says, pointing.

Xiao’s gaze follows Aether’s finger, towards the horizon. The ship’s silhouette is familiar; he’s seen it docked at Guyun before, heard the tales of its fleet and its legendary captain. It comes as no surprise that Aether knows it as well.

“You’ve never met the captain, Beidou before, have you? You’d probably like her.”

“I’ve heard of her deeds,” says Xiao. “She slayed a leviathan, and appears to be a warrior above others. Such mortals are admirable.”

“Oh? Such high praise coming from the Conqueror of Demons.”

“You tease, but it is the truth. You, too, are a warrior of rare and exceptional skill.”

“Ah…” Aether ducks his head. “You’re too sincere. It’s a little embarrassing.”

“Why? There’s no need to be modest. I have no reason to flatter you or anyone else.”

“Well, some people do find it embarrassing to be praised, you know.”

He doesn’t, nor does he understand the logic. “I will refrain from doing so, then.”

“No,” Aether says quickly. “I mean… I don’t mind. It’s nice, even if it is embarrassing.”

“You are very contradictory.”

“I don’t mind if it’s you, it’s just… sometimes you say such things so frankly, I don’t know how to react.” He clears his throat. “Anyways, I owe Beidou and her crew a big favor for getting me into Inazuma, and I haven’t had the chance to thank her properly. I don’t know if you’ve ever wanted to meet her, but… I know it’s been a lot the past few days, so I understand if you don’t.”

“I will join you,” says Xiao. “Those whom you care for, who have helped you along your journey… I would like to understand this part of your life as well.”

“There you go again,” Aether mumbles to himself. More loudly: “Your karma—it’s not a problem?”

To his surprise, Xiao realizes he hasn’t thought about his karmic debt over the past day. As he spends time with Aether, such concern grows less and less. It’s a constant pulse under his skin, like a heartbeat, but no more than that. Not the excruciating pain that flares in moments of weakness, nor the memories that plague him when the silence in his head stretches on for too long. He shakes his head.

Aether puts away his book and pays the teahouse owner. Together, they make their way back towards the docks. As the ship approaches shore, it becomes apparent just how huge it is, dwarfing all others docked at the harbor. Xiao spots a number of crew members shuffling about or shouting directions on the deck, more than he can count.

Despite this, only one person disembarks once it anchors, a young man dressed in striking Inazuman garb. Wind seems to cling to him, kiss his skin. He steps onto the pier and stretches languidly, closing his eyes and arching towards the sun like a cat. There’s no hint of anticipation in his movement, nor the wide-eyed wonder of an outlander taking his first steps into a new city; it’s clear the man is well-traveled.

“Kazuha!” Aether says, his face lighting up.

The man startles, stiffens, eyes dancing around, relaxing only when he spots Aether. “Oh, hello, Aether,” he says with a small smile. “I wasn’t aware you had returned to Liyue. What a lovely surprise it is to be welcomed by you.”

Aether grins, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Kazuha’s shoulders in what Xiao belatedly recognizes as a hug. He frowns. Does Aether know everyone in Teyvat?

“It’s good to see you again.”

“And you as well. Just as the inclement morning weather makes the afternoon sun all the warmer, so too does our meeting feel especially fortuitous after a long journey.”

“Ah… first Xiao, now you,” Aether mumbles as he pulls away. “You two sure have a way with words.”

“Xiao?”

“Oh, right, you haven’t been introduced yet, have you? This is Xiao,” Aether says, gesturing to him. “You might have heard of him. He’s an adeptus; I’ve been showing him around the harbor.”

“An adeptus? You have many interesting friends.” Kazuha’s curious gaze appears unassuming, but Xiao feels pinned under it. “The Kamisato clan’s own lady often speaks fondly of you. The priestess of Watatsumi Island holds you in high esteem and prays for your return. Even the winds whisper of the Raiden Shogun’s partiality towards you, how she is rarely seen in the streets of Inazuma with anybody but you.”

“It’s not like that… I just help them out sometimes.” Aether rubs at the back of his neck. To Xiao, he explains, “Kazuha is a wandering swordsman. He helped me a lot in Inazuma. Saved my life.”

“You faced the Raiden Shogun in a duel and lived. By comparison, I did very little.”

This is news to Xiao; he turns to Aether, feeling something like alarm rising in him. “You fought Inazuma’s archon?”

“Well… maybe once or twice. I wasn’t trying to cause trouble—seriously, I wasn’t!—but she was threatening my friends and I got caught up in it.”

“You could have been hurt—or worse.” Aether may be more than mortal, but what is he against a god? “I told you: if you find yourself in danger, if the trials you face prove too difficult, call my name. Wherever you are in Teyvat, I will come.”

“I know, I trust you,” says Aether. “Just… trust me too? Things got rough, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, and I had people I trusted at my back. Everything is okay now.”

Xiao swallows down his doubt. Rationally, he knows Aether has traveled far and wide across Teyvat, experienced more than most will in a lifetime, and is under no obligation to report his activities to Xiao, but the thought that he knows so little about someone he bared much of his own feelings to, whom he viewed as a companion… it churns unpleasantly in his gut. It’s not the twisting darkness of his karma, but feels no less sinister. He cannot trust his voice now, so he mutely nods.

“Well, I have a few errands to run for the captain while I’m here, and the day isn’t getting any younger,” says Kazuha. “It was a pleasure seeing you, Aether, and you as well, Xiao.”

“Wait, you– would you like us to accompany you?”

Kazuha tilts his head. “I wouldn’t mind. But I thought you two might want to be left alone.”

“Ah, well, if Xiao isn’t opposed–”

“You go ahead,” says Xiao. “I wish to retire for the day.”

Aether blinks, his eyebrows furrowing. Concern is written too neatly across his face. “Are you sure? I’ll go back with you.”

“No; it is not necessary. I do not wish to inconvenience you.”

“You wouldn’t be,” says Aether. “But if that’s what you want…”

Xiao warps away in lieu of a verbal response. He doesn’t go far; from the rooftops he can spot the pair still at the docks, and in particular Aether, whose head whips around in search of him. Part of him feels a twisting regret, to see Aether worry so openly for him. To have been the cause of Aether’s worry. But the feeling in his gut still refuses to settle, rolling even more restlessly at the thought of staying and witnessing a friendship he is an outsider to.

He keeps watch. He watches as Paimon flutters back into existence, exchanging words with Aether before flying off. He watches as Aether and Kazuha walk together, chatting amongst themselves. They fall into step easily; there is a familiarity there. A distinct trust between two companions who have faced battle together, entrusted their lives to each other. The easy camaraderie forged from shared adversity. It’s something Xiao recognizes from centuries past, buried long ago and only recently resurfaced within the depths of the Chasm.

When was the last time he slipped so easily into another’s footsteps? The last time someone else’s presence felt like an extension of his own? Only Aether comes close, but does he feel the same, or is Xiao merely one among countless companions?

He watches until they turn a corner, out of sight. He brings himself to his feet, turns, but barely manages to take a step before something crashes into him.

“Paimon found you!” She rubs at her head, where she collided with his ribs. “Ow…”

“What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too,” she says, placing her hands on her hips. “What are you doing up here? Aether is worried about you, you know. You disappeared so suddenly. Not that that’s unlike you, but you shouldn’t make others worry like that!”

“No need to worry. There are no threats in Liyue Harbor,” says Xiao.

“You– ugh. You know what Paimon means! Aether’s worried that you’re upset.”

“And he sent you after me?”

“Well, you’re Paimon’s friend too.” She tilts her head, leaning in. “Are you upset?”

“No.” Upset is the wrong word, he thinks, but his vocabulary lacks the right one. He gazes out towards the corner where Aether disappeared. The feeling returns, twisting and ugly. Voice dropping, he starts, “You accompany Aether on all his journeys.”

“Yep! Paimon’s been by his side since the beginning! Taught him everything he knows!” she says, puffing out her chest. “Why do you ask?”

“It occured to me that I know very little about him or his journey,” he says. “I see him with his friends, his companions, and I wonder how I fit into his life. He chooses to rely on others, when I have made it clear he need only call me. It is frustrating. Yet, how can I demand his trust when I understand nothing about him in turn?”

“Ohh, Paimon sees what’s going on. You’re jealous!”

“What?” says Xiao.

“Hee hee, you don’t have to bother denying it. Paimon sees everything,” she says with a wink.

“I’m not denying anything. I simply don’t understand what you’re implying.”

“Oh, right, this is you we’re talking about. Well, Aether’s one of the only people you hang out with, right? So he’s really special to you?” The wording is slightly juvenile, but Xiao nods slowly. “But he makes friends as easily as he breathes, and he’s got ‘em all over the place, so it probably makes you feel less special. Even though he can call your name whenever he wants, he doesn’t need to when he has all these other people to help him.” Another nod. “Even though you’re visiting the harbor together, he keeps running into his friends. You don’t like when other people take his attention away.”

Xiao eyes her dubiously. “How do you know that?”

“Ehe, Paimon has her ways,” she says. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with Paimon! But, you know… if you want to know anything about Aether, you can just ask him. He would definitely tell you.”

“I’ve asked far too much of him already,” says Xiao. “I fear I have monopolized too much of his time for my… presumptuous request. Coming here, to Liyue Harbor, as if I could learn to integrate myself with humans… it was clear from the start that such an endeavor would be fruitless for me.”

“Like he wouldn’t do anything you asked,” Paimon mutters, just low enough to make out the words. “Don’t be so hard on yourself! You don’t need to push yourself. Paimon likes you the way you are, and so does Aether. We care about you!”

Were it said by anyone else, Xiao would assume they were trying to spare his feelings. Most find him unapproachable, too sullen, perhaps even frightening; his old master was never satisfied with him, always wanted from him what he could never give. They were willing to break him apart to mold him anew. But Paimon is a poor liar, and Aether’s closest confidant; unfathomably, there is a layer of truth to her words, and it resonates with Aether’s own.

“I see,” says Xiao. “That is… kind of you to say. Thank you.”

“Anytime! That’s what friends are for, right?”

Friends, he thinks, testing the word in his mind. Is that what they are? What makes them friends, exactly? Is it friendship that makes it so easy for Aether to touch him, that makes it so bitter when Aether embraces another?

He cannot claim to truly understand friendship, not when his karmic debt threatens to swallow anyone he grows too close to. But Paimon and Aether never let that stop them from doing whatever they wanted, from carving their place into Xiao’s life like they always belonged there and never intend to leave. And Xiao… he realizes he doesn’t mind.

It’s not an answer. Maybe it will never be. But for now, the feeling settles.

Aether finds him in the same spot some hours later, gazing out towards the sea and the rippling moon trapped within. He clutches a small take-out container in his hand as he clambers over the slanted rooftop; Xiao reaches out to him to steady him. “Thanks,” he says as he finds his footing. “Oh—this is for you. It’s not from Wangshu Inn, and Xiangling might have added her own flair to it, but hopefully it doesn’t taste too strange.”

“Thank you,” says Xiao. “Where is your friend?”

“Um, back on the ship, probably. We split up after dinner; I wanted to make sure you ate. And before you say it’s unnecessary, i-it would make me happy if you tried it.”

Xiao stares down at the container in his hands, prying off the lid to find almond tofu resting within. It’s garnished with what looks like qingxin petals; their bitterness is offset by the sweetness of the tofu. The tofu gives way easily under his tongue, nearly melting in his mouth. It reminds him of a memory, an old dream he’s long forgotten, just on the tip of his tongue. He hums a quiet approval.

Aether settles down next to him, bringing his knees to his chest. “I won’t ask,” he says as he watches Xiao chew. “Unless you want to talk about it.”

That’s right; his… jealousy, as Paimon put it. The look in Aether’s eyes are too gentle, too understanding, and Xiao feels too seen under their gaze. He says nothing until he swallows down the last of the tofu. “Tell me about him.”

“Huh?” Aether blinks owlishly at him. “Oh, what, Kazuha? What do you want to know?”

“Anything,” says Xiao. “Everything. Tell me about Kazuha. About Raiden Shogun. About Inazuma.”

Aether laughs. “I don’t think the night is long enough for that. But I’ll see how far I can get.”

He smiles and tells Xiao a story about a boy and his friend, about bravery and loyalty and sacrifice, voice drifting softly into the night. High above, the stars glitter.

—

“Here is the current list of bounties,” says the young woman, pointing to the bulletin board beside her. “This one in particular has had multiple sightings and reports over the past day; since its territory borders the main road into the city, it is, of course, imperative for us to deal with it before it becomes a bigger threat.”

Aether studies the board closely, fingers hooked under his chin. “We’ll take that one, then.”

“Between Aether and Xiao, it’ll be done in no time!” cheers Paimon.

“Thank you,” says the woman, “and good luck, though I suppose you won’t need it.”

They’re heading north, Aether explains as they walk. “The Ministry of Civil Affairs puts out bounties for monsters that are causing trouble around Liyue. Normally the Millelith handle matters of security, but cases they don’t have the resources for or aren’t high enough priority get contracted out to local intrepid adventurers.” He grins at Xiao. “You’ve protected Liyue for so long, you should see for yourself the ways humans can take care of themselves. And besides, it’ll be good to get out of the city and get some work done while we’re at it. You seem like you’re getting a bit restless here.”

“The harbor is too peaceful,” Xiao agrees.

“You’re doing well, though,” Aether says. “I mean… your karma. You look like you had it under control the whole time.”

“Your presence helps. I feel most at ease around you.”

Aether ducks his head. “You really have to stop doing that,” he whines.

“Doing what?”

“Making me feel like you… oh, never mind. It’s not like you’re doing this on purpose.” He clears his throat. “Anyways, I hope you don’t mind walking there; it’s not too far. An adventure is about the journey, after all, and—well, humans can’t exactly teleport wherever they want.”

“I trust your judgment,” says Xiao.

The bounty is in Guili Plains. Were Xiao to return to his post at Wangshu Inn now, he would no doubt be able to identify and eliminate the target without difficulty. It would be trivial, even; second nature. Instinct honed over the centuries. But instead, he walks beside Aether, shoulder-to-shoulder, the crunch of dirt and cobble road under their feet falling into a steady rhythm.

Time feels slower out here, just beyond the bounds of the bustling city. A few curious travelers line the road—merchants, tourists, adventurers—their numbers tapering off as they continue farther north. Trees rustle in the wind, golden leaves drifting through the air. Scenery Xiao never spent much time to stop and admire before passes them by. Though, admire might be too strong a word; the ruins of Guili litter the plains, abandoned and forgotten, a reminder of ancient violence and misery that once blighted the quiet land.

“Do you remember what it was like, before the war?” Aether asks, as if reading his thoughts. There’s no other sound around them but the grass fluttering in the wind and Aether’s soft voice.

Xiao shakes his head. “The destruction of the Guili Assembly predates my involvement in the war. Most of the adepti from that time are now gone.”

“A pity. Zhongli doesn’t seem fond of talking about it, and he’s not exactly tight-lipped about this kind of stuff.”

“It is not a happy story; he suffered deep loss when the Assembly fell. Even to this day I know very little of the circumstances. Among us remaining adepti, Cloud Retainer was the most involved. She is especially sentimental; you might have more success asking her.”

“I could,” says Aether, “but I like listening to you more.”

His sincerity stuns Xiao to speechlessness. He takes a moment too long to collect himself. “I hardly say much.”

“Which makes what little you do say all the more special.”

“You enjoy the sound of my voice that much?”

“Well, that’s a part of it,” Aether says with little shame. “But it’s more than just that: when they are so few, every word becomes precious. Every word matters. And every word makes me want to hear more.”

“More…” Xiao echoes. “What more is there to want?”

“You’re a lot more interesting than you give yourself credit for, you know. More than your duty or your karmic debt. The millennia you’ve lived, the battles you survived, the comrades you fought by—these are all part of your life. Your story.”

“None of it is very happy or satisfying. Nothing like your stories.”

“Stories don’t need to be either,” says Aether. “Especially when one has lived as long as we have, seen what we’ve seen, sometimes the misery outweighs the happiness.”

“Yet knowing this, you still persist.”

Aether shrugs, turning to smile softly at him. “What can I say? I want to know more about you, good or bad.”

“Absurd,” he mutters, because Aether is truly baffling at times, both persistent and honest in the same breath. “What do you want to know?”

Aether looks surprised by the concession for a moment, hesitating before saying, “Your yaksha comrades… what was it like fighting alongside them?”

Xiao falls into silence, contemplating his next words.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want—”

“I don’t mind if it’s you,” says Xiao. “The other yaksha… you already know the ending of this story. We worked together for many centuries under Rex Lapis before the last of us fell and Bosacius disappeared. They were much closer to each other than they were to me, but you would never think it from the outside. Where I preferred working alone, they always tried to include me in everything, from strategy to battle to celebration. In a way, they were much like you.”

Aether hums, clearly finding no fault in that assessment. “And you sound like you haven’t changed much at all.”

“…If you would believe it, I was even more unsociable before them,” says Xiao.

Aether giggles, the sound bursting from him unbidden, and he tries to hide it behind his hand too late. “Really?”

“It was not long after Rex Lapis freed me from my old master that we were introduced. The idea of companionship, of having comrades to watch my back, was foreign to me. I wanted nothing to do with them; I didn’t need them. But that never stopped them from trying to get closer,” Xiao says. “Bosacius was the most persistent. I don’t think his pride allowed him to be anything less than adored by anyone he ever met. In our first week of acquaintance, he and the other yaksha even threw a party to celebrate our alliance, as much as it was a thinly-veiled excuse to feast and drink. Such was the person Bosacius was. Indarius was much the same, though she had Bonanus to temper her. Menogias never pushed for friendship, and so I naturally found him the easiest to get along with.”

“You must miss them.”

“It has been so long, I’ve forgotten how to miss them,” Xiao says honestly. Since their deaths, he kept his mind too occupied to allow himself enough time to lapse into old memories. For this long he considered himself beyond any sort of sentimentality; he knows this now, from the moment he stepped into Pervases’ temple, to be untrue. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism, a way to prevent himself from feeling the pain of what he no longer had. But, he’s surprised to find a part of him that wants to dig and claw into his soul to reveal the ghosts within him for Aether to see. He is the last yaksha, after all; their spirits live on through him. For as long as he can remember, it burdened him, but now here stands Aether, offering to shoulder some of the weight.

Words spill out of him unbidden, as if bursting from a dam. Buried memories rush from him: he tells a story of their first battle as five, before they became intimately familiar with each other’s footwork and rhythms, a shoddy attempt at teamwork that might have ended in disaster if they weren’t each trained weapons in their own right. He tells Aether of the calm between battles, when the yaksha would eat and sing and dance, when Bosacius would play pranks on others and once even roped Xiao into his mischief.

It feels like a prayer; it feels like thick incense hugging him, the weight of long-dead spirits rising like smoke. An offering to those long gone. Bosacius. Indarias. Bonanus. Menogias. And himself, the Alatus who would never have indulged in such thoughts for fear of weakness.

In return, Aether tells him his own story, of growing up in a world beyond Teyvat with his sister. Of exploring the galaxy for the first time, flying amongst constellations belonging to a different sky, a heaven beyond. It’s more than enough to stir the imagination; Xiao himself will never call anywhere but Liyue his home, but with Aether’s stories he can travel beyond its borders, if just for the brief timespan of his reminiscence.

So greedy is Xiao to hear more, to learn just what it is that makes Aether shine as bright as he does, he nearly forgets their mission. It’s only when Aether abruptly cuts off and says, “I think we’re here,” that he’s jolted back into reality.

It’s quiet. Wind blows through fields of grass, gentle enough to caress their skin without kicking up the dirt beneath their feet. A lesser being might find it deceptively peaceful, but Xiao can sense the beast beyond the plains; its sickly aura is unmistakable. His fingers itch for his spear, for his mask, but Aether instead plucks a sweet flower and examines it with little urgency.

“I usually look out for clues,” he explains. “These bounties are tougher than your regular monsters, and sometimes much better organized, so it’s best to be prepared and know what you’re getting into. You can find a surprising amount of evidence of the bounty’s behavior, its strengths and weaknesses, just by checking the earth and creatures that live from it.”

There is no beast in Liyue that poses a realistic threat to Xiao, no matter how much stronger than its ilk it is, but he has to admit the logic is reasonable. Even if they can take a few more hits than the average mortal, it’s better to avoid a struggle altogether. Neither did the Ministry representative put a time limit above their heads or demand any specific methods for extermination.

They split up to find clues. Aether explores deeper towards the ruins, while Xiao heads the opposite way. He stumbles upon what Aether must be looking for a few moments later, once he passes the crest of a hill. Fresh scorch marks from concentrated energy, consistent with a ruin machine’s projectile, blight the plain. But the marks are bigger, deeper, and numerous, far more than he knows these automata to be capable of. Whatever living being served as a target is now little more than ash swirling in the breeze.

Strong, with greater firepower than normal, and aggressive, he notes. Likely resistant to blades. Troublesome, but nothing they can’t handle. Still, it would be best to regroup before engaging.

It’s no sooner that the thought crosses his mind than the earth rumbles beneath his feet. A shriek pierces the air, lighting a jolt of alarm through him. A half-second later, when a piercing, “Xiao!” rings in his ears, he’s already warped to its source.

A ruin hunter greets him immediately. He deflects an incoming slash with his spear. It recoils, buys him a second of time. That is enough. He feels for the presence next to him; his fingers wrap around skin, or cloth, he isn’t sure, but it doesn’t matter. He just needs to get Aether away from here. The ruin guard winds up for another strike, but it meets air; Xiao and Aether tumble unharmed into the dirt together a few meters away, behind a wall of stone just barely tall enough to hide them. Together, they catch their breaths. Beyond the wall, the ruin hunter whirrs.

“Xiao!” says Paimon, letting go of Aether to fly to him. “Aether, he got hit!”

“Surprised me, is all. I’ll be okay,” grunts Aether as he pulls himself onto his feet. He coughs. Dirt scratches the back of Xiao's own throat.

A quick visual assessment comes up dubious. Aether barely manages to straighten himself before he sways. Paimon rushes back over to him, pushing his shoulders as if her weight can bear his. A rivulet of blood peeks through the bangs clinging to his damp skin, then another, dripping fat down his forehead. Aether doesn’t seem to notice. Too shocked, maybe. His hand is clenched too tight around his sword.

“You’re injured; you shouldn’t move too quickly. I’ll take care of it,” says Xiao.

He expects Aether to protest, but what he gets instead is, “Behind you!”

There’s no time to react, yet the beam misses him by a hair. Stone erupts around them as the attack blasts into the wall. There’s a weight around his waist, knocking him off his feet, pulling him down, until his back hits the dirt. A cry rings out, then—silence. Aether’s gold hair fills his vision. Panic seizes his body.

“Aether–”

“I’m okay,” Aether says quickly, and Xiao exhales in relief. “But there might be a few bruises from those rocks later.”

“You didn’t have to–”

“It would’ve hit you. I’m not sorry.”

Xiao shakes his head. No. Now isn’t the time for this; he needs to disable this thing, and swiftly. It needs time to charge up again after expending so much energy in the last blast, and that’s quickly running out.

He raises his spear. Aims. The spear flies from his hand, directly at the ruin hunter’s core, but the ruin hunter sees it, dodges it, ducking under its course. The signs pointed to it being strong, but nothing about it being fast. No matter; it cannot hope to outmatch Xiao in speed or agility. He warps to catch his spear, twists his body, and plunges.

The damage is trivial; armor dents under the sheer force of his attack, but his spear does not pierce through. The ruin hunter twists and spins, arms contorting, trying to dislodge him from its facsimile of a head as if he were an annoying bug, but he hangs on. A sudden jolt runs through it, making it stutter; below, Aether sends another spark of electro energy. It catches in the ruin hunter’s twitching joints. The opening is enough. Xiao flips off the top of its head, and dashes straight into its robotic face with his spear.

It hits true. His spear pierces its core. Sparks fly. The ruin hunter lets out a mechanical cry, twitching and shuddering before falling limp. The earth groans as it lands heavily in the dirt. Stunned and disabled, it looks almost pitiful, but Xiao knows this window of opportunity will be brief. He dons his mask, and jumps.

This rhythm is familiar. This is instinct he was born with, honed over millennia of destruction and death. With Aether supporting his strikes with his own elemental attacks, it doesn’t take long before the ruin hunter is little more than rubble beneath his feet, the last sparks fizzling from its body. Smoke unfurls from its inactive core. The air smells synthetic and burnt, thick in his lungs. He can feel his heartbeat pounding in his throat.

“Xiao,” says Aether, “are you hurt anywhere?”

Xiao starts to shake his head, but stops when he sees Aether. Dirt and blood muddy his face. On his arm, a festering burn. He quickly moves to cover it when he notices Xiao's gaze.

“Oh, this,” Aether says. “Don’t worry, it’s worse than it looks. I didn’t even feel it.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Xiao snaps. “You were injured protecting me.”

“I told you, I’m not sorry for that.”

They don’t break eye contact for a long moment, locked in a silent tug-of-war. Aether cannot concede on his need to help and protect others even at the cost of his own safety, and Xiao cannot accept another getting hurt for his sake. It’s a standstill. When Aether finally yields, it’s not a victory for Xiao. Not when he’s rushing forward with Paimon right on his heels to stop Aether’s buckling knees from hitting the ground as he retches.

“Why are you always like this!” Paimon says, her voice laced with as much frustration as Xiao feels. “Now isn’t the time to be stubborn. If you’re hurt anywhere else–”

“I’m just tired,” says Aether. “I used up my energy in the fight.”

“Then I will take you to rest,” says Xiao.

Cradling Aether tight in his arms, he gathers what remains of his energy. Paimon’s concerned protest is cut off by the swirl of wind.

—

Xiao's residence in Wangshu Inn provides only the most basic of accommodations; he requires little more than four walls to offer safety in which he can rest. He’s never been concerned by this until now, as he lays Aether upon his bed and realizes he has little else to provide.

Aether remains pliant as they work together to remove his armor. He sheds the scarf and boots, then the pauldrons and gloves, followed by his shirt. Coming down from the stress of the fight seems to have drained him of further protest, and it’s clear as Xiao gets a better look that while not as severe as he was dreading, Aether’s injuries are not as trivial as Aether claims, either.

“The first hit got me in the head. Knocked me over,” Aether explains. “I might have a concussion? But I’ll be fine, just have to sleep it off.”

“You were bleeding. That is not a trivial wound. And your burn—it will need attention to prevent infection.”

“I’m not a mortal; it’ll heal in time.”

“Not mortal, yet you still bleed red,” Xiao says quietly.

Aether frowns, eyes roaming Xiao's face. “I don’t regret stepping in, and I can’t promise I won’t do it again should something else arise, but I do regret worrying you.”

“If you truly feel remorse, then you will let me tend to your wounds. And don’t move.”

Aether doesn’t seem to have any further argument, or at least realizes arguing isn’t worth it. Xiao leaves to draw water and find a cloth. He does not have bandages or any other first aid in his room, but in the lobby Verr Goldet provides him some without question, along with advice on how to treat a burn. Aether closes his eyes as Xiao sets to work, gently wiping his face and burn with a damp cloth, washing away dirt and blood and grime. With another cloth, he applies it to the burn as a wet compress; in lieu of much else to cool the skin, it’ll have to do.

In the supplies Verr Goldet provided is some ointment. Xiao applies it tenderly, careful of the sensitive burn. Next, the bandages. He works on wrapping the wound. The movement is unfamiliar; he himself does not bleed, nor suffer flesh wounds in the way others do, and has never needed such dressing. But it is not a complicated task, and the result comes out satisfactory.

By the time he finishes, Aether has fallen asleep. His eyelashes flutter, his chest rises and falls to a steady rhythm. His long golden threads of hair spill across the sheets. Now that the evidence of the day has been wiped from his skin, he looks… peaceful. Were they anywhere else, Xiao might stay and keep vigil. Ensure nothing disturbs Aether while he rests. But as it stands, Wangshu Inn is a refuge in the middle of the marsh. Xiao has long since claimed this territory as his own. Threats know better than to step foot in it.

The sun has only just started to set, casting golden beams of light across the room. He steps onto the balcony, closing his eyes and inhaling. The air is crisp, free of the smell of death that usually follows Xiao. Up here, it’s quiet. This time of the day is always the liveliest, whether in Liyue Harbor or Wangshu Inn; people mill about the base of the tree, haggling with the stalls and conversing over meals, but high up at the top, noise scatters in the breeze.

“You– you left Paimon behind! How could you! Do you know how hard it is to fly all the way up here?”

So much for quiet. Paimon pants loudly, heavily, as she levels a glare at Xiao. “Aether is asleep,” he says. “You will wake him with your shouting.”

“Don’t think that’s going to shut Paimon up!” Paimon whisper-shouts, though it comes across more like a wheeze. “But—oh, let Paimon catch her breath first. Wangshu Inn is really… really high.”

She floats inside, plopping unceremoniously onto an empty patch of bed with an undignified, “Oof!” By the time Xiao crosses the room to check on the both of them, she’s tucked next to Aether, fast asleep and snoring loudly.

Aether, on the other hand, looks less serene. His eyebrows are furrowed, mouth downturned, hair sticking to his damp forehead. His fingers twitch in his sleep. Bad dream, perhaps. For a fleeting moment, Xiao wonders: what would Aether’s dreams taste of? Would they be made of the same starglitter his body was formed from? Would they taste as sweet as the almond tofu he makes for Xiao? It would be so simple to enter his mind, to sink his teeth into Aether’s dream and consume it, to see for himself.

The thought is too base. He is no longer the creature who hungers over dreams like a slavering animal—at least, he wants to believe this to be. However cruel Aether’s nightmares, it would be a betrayal of his trust to take them from him uninvited.

He digs his fingernails into his arm until the impulse abates. When the feeling ebbs, what’s left behind is the ache of his limbs, the stress of battle finally catching up to him. He neglected to take stock of his condition after the battle, but a quick check shows he’s mostly unscathed. A few scrapes is nothing to worry over. The rest is just exhaustion. Mental wounds mean little to him when he’s fought the pull of karma for so long.

Xiao settles into the only seat in the room, closes his eyes, and meditates.

He must accidentally fall asleep; when his eyes blink open, rays of sunlight have been replaced by moonbeams, casting slivers of silver across the wall. It takes a moment to regain his bearings. This isn’t the first time he’s managed to fall asleep in Aether’s presence, and the thought leaves him feeling acutely vulnerable.

With the moon at his back, he leaves Wangshu Inn and hunts. There is never a shortage of prey on the outer edges of the marsh, beasts that are too weak to resist the allure of his karmic energy and must be exterminated before they get too close. Cutting through them is mindless repetition. A ritual that clears his mind, chases away idle thoughts, staves off any lingering hunger. It is a necessary cleansing. Like this, he is no longer a conscious being, capable of the conflicting feelings and desires that have been plaguing him. He is a weapon, born from steel and forged by blood.

Yet, as his spear rends through flesh, he wonders what it means to be more. What it means to want more.

He returns with the sun. Paimon is nowhere to be seen. Aether is already awake, reading the book he bought the other day. He dog-ears a page and closes it as Xiao enters. “Welcome back,” he says with a faint smile.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Is there anything you need?”

“A warm bath, maybe.” He raises his bandaged arm and sniffs it, his nose scrunching. “Yeah, a bath sounds nice right now.”

A bathtub is, fortunately, one of the few amenities this suite has. “That is doable. I will have water drawn for you.”

He helps Aether with his wrappings, then out of his remaining clothes. Naked, Aether stands vulnerable. Yet he does not shrink under Xiao's attention, instead watching him back as if baring himself for Xiao's scrutiny. A constellation of bruises litters his body, cloudy blots of purple. Xiao presses one. Aether’s skin feels thin as paper under his touch, flesh sinking under the pads of his fingers. Under it, he imagines organs, bones, vitals that would be so easy to crush. How fragile is the body, that so little protects such vulnerable parts.

He finds a pulse, fluttering just underneath skin. Aether’s breath hitches. Xiao remembers himself then, pulling away regretfully. “Forgive me,” he says. “I don’t know what came over me. I will leave you to your bath.”

“It’s okay,” says Aether. “Um, rather, I would like it if you stayed.”

A wave of raw emotion passes through Xiao, rooting him to the floor. He finds himself unable to leave as Aether sinks his body into the tub with a sigh. Rather than get to work cleaning himself, Aether simply lies there, head leaning against the rim, hair spilling over the back. His eyes close, long enough to make Xiao wonder if he’s fallen back asleep.

He pulls himself up soon enough with a groan, and begins to bathe. His motions are unhurried, relaxed. Hands glide over skin, gentle over his injuries. His long hair spills over his shoulders, all over the tub, getting in the way of his movements. He huffs. “I think I left my hair tie next to the bed. Could you–?”

Xiao hums affirmatively. The tie is there, unmistakable. The jewel that always seems to glow in Aether’s possession looks dull without its owner. As he walks closer to Aether, it seems to gradually regain its shine. Rather than hand the tie over when he returns, Xiao runs his fingers through Aether’s long strands of hair, eliciting a shudder. “Does this hurt?”

“…No,” Aether mumbles. “Feels good.”

Fascinated, he does it again, to the same response.

“Now you’re just toying with me. Hand it over, please?”

“Let me do it,” says Xiao.

He pulls Aether’s hair back, dividing it into sections to braid. Parts are wet where they fell into the water, clinging to his fingers insistently, tangling amongst themselves, and he has to smooth them out. It’s quiet while Xiao works, twisting the sections of hair together, slowly shaping it into some amateur semblance of a braid before tying off the end. Aether tilts his head, ever slightly, to bare the nape of his neck. Xiao's breath hitches at the sight of it: the ridges of Aether’s spine peeking from his flesh, so delicate. How many of these brittle bones has Xiao snapped before, as easily as one might snap a twig in two? Aether knows his nature, and yet…

Never has anyone been this unguarded around him. No other person in this world would willingly leave themselves so exposed, so vulnerable to Xiao. No one but Aether, who shines so bright his existence must never be snuffed. The thought makes him tremble.

Aether pulls himself up to standing, grabbing a towel and drying himself off. He turns his back to Xiao as he dresses. He shows no self-consciousness, no awareness of Xiao’s increasingly errant thoughts. It’s clear: he trusts Xiao fully. And Xiao does not deserve it.

“What are you doing to me?” he wonders. “Whatever star you fell from, is that what makes you so special?”

“Xiao?”

“I’ve been fighting for so long I don’t know how to stop. My duty to protect Liyue—it’s all I’ve known,” he says. “Mortals live for hardly a blink of time. Their coming and passing, this never mattered to me. Yet, you… what makes you so different? That makes me want to protect you so? To eat your dreams when they make you suffer?”

“Xiao…” Aether steps closer. Meeting his golden eyes feels like staring into the sun. “Do you love me?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you care for me the way I care for you? Do you want me the way I want you?”

Xiao almost can’t hear his own voice over the pounding of his heart. “And how do you want me?”

Aether reaches his hand out slowly, hooking his fingers around Xiao’s wrist. There’s a question in his eyes, permission he’s requesting, and Xiao allows it. Aether pulls Xiao’s glove off, until their fingertips touch skin to skin, and he guides Xiao’s hand closer to himself, under his cropped shirt, palm flat against his chest. Xiao feels it then: the heat spreading under his palm and the erratic thump of Aether’s heart, beating so insistently he can almost hear it, drumming in time with his own.

“Do you feel it?” Aether asks. “My heart beating for you? How it wishes for yours in turn?”

“I feel…” Xiao feels so much in this moment, he struggles to process it. He knows few emotions intimately; things like anger, sadness, happiness, are simple. Easy. Like being able to identify red, blue, yellow. Primary and fundamental, deceptively simple until they mix and become a new color, a new emotion that is somewhere in between. There is something now in his heart that is not quite fear, more like trepidation. Yet not quite so negative, perhaps even hopeful. “You call this love?”

Aether’s gaze turns pleading. “What is this, exactly?”

“When time passes quicker in your presence; when I can’t bear to see you with another man; when your injuries hurt me like a flesh wound; when I find myself afraid of death for fear of losing you; would you call that love?”

That unknowable emotion rises like bile, threatening to choke him as he searches Aether’s eyes. Aether eases Xiao’s hand from his chest, guiding it up. Xiao has little time to regret the loss of skin contact before his lips press against Xiao’s knuckles, tender and warm. Skin tingles where they touch. The stutter in his chest picks up, rattling against his ribs, and he wonders: if he does not bleed, why does he have a heart that beats so insistently?

“A creature born to kill, to destroy, weighed down by the karma of death… such things are meaningless to me. What is something like me supposed to do with love?”

“You were never the monster you think you are, Xiao. The fact that you feel the way you do now proves it,” Aether says. “You said you wish to understand mortals, and what is more mortal than love?”

He makes it sound so simple, Xiao thinks. This bewildering, otherworldly being that walks among humans so easily, loves so easily, as if he were one himself. Understanding mortals was, in a way, always about understanding Aether; so too, does understanding Aether bring him closer to understanding mortals. His incandescent will, burning bright as a star, which draws Xiao in like a helpless moth—perhaps this is what the other yaksha saw in humanity, that which Rex Lapis strove to preserve.

“I cannot claim to know the intricacies of love, nor can I promise to be a good lover,” says Xiao. “I can only offer myself, to stay by your side, to come when I am called.”

Aether smiles, soft and full of affection. His fingers, still warm against Xiao’s skin, interlock with Xiao’s. “That’s all I need.”

Xiao leans in, pulled inexplicably towards Aether, and Aether meets him in the middle. The press of their lips against each other feels like a promise, like understanding. Xiao's heart sings. It grows wings and takes flight against his chest. It's like nothing he’s ever felt before, an experience beyond even his immortal years, and one he wishes only to share with Aether.

He’s never had much in this world; not physical possessions, not emotional connections. Certainly not enough to share with another. But as long as his heart beats in time with Aether’s own, he thinks, that is enough.