Chapter Text
After Morax flew away from Snezhnaya, he visited Mondstadt and then Fontaine. However, while the visit to Foçalors was coming to an end, the Abyss struck.
Childe had heard of the news in passing, occupied as he was with preparing the Vanguard’s chosen soldiers.
The Abyss opened a portal on the border between Liyue and Mondstadt, forcing Morax to return immediately to deal with the enemies swiftly. Childe had wanted to write a letter to ask if everything went well, however, that attack was only the first of many more to come. Countless portals opened all over Teyvat, submerging the realm of light into darkness.
As Tartaglia, he was deployed around Teyvat to fight wherever the largest abyssal front opened — he hunt the Abyss’ forces down, guiding his soldiers to victory.
He went everywhere but in Liyue, always making sure not to ever cross its borders, but not forsaking it and its God.
Morax was just as busy, but every time their paths crossed, they made sure to reunite, even if it was for just a brief moment.
They fought together, drank and dined with their soldiers after a hard-won battle, hid under a tent to fuck and murmur hopeful promises for a better future to build together.
The biggest problem in putting a stop to this war was the fact they were unable to control how the Abyss opened its portals. Tartaglia and the other warriors might fight on the battlefront for years, but unless they found a way to make sure those portals stayed closed for good, it’d be all for naught.
The solution came after a joint effort, guided by the Akademiya. Devi Kusanali invited all the major researchers from the Seven Nations that could spare their time from the frontline to find a solution, and they did.
Childe wasn’t particularly fond of praising La Signora or Il Dottore, but he knew they contributed much to the project, and that working closely with people from Nations that shunned them in the past must have been hard.
Now, they had a solution: find the primal portals — the ones closest to the Abyss — and, after cornering the enemies in the area, seal everything with both the power of Celestia and that of the Abyss. To achieve that, either a vision user or one of the Archons should attack the sealing point while also an enemy from the Abyss was emanating enough of its taint to redirect it for the sealing.
In theory, the power from the Abyss should stop flowing into Teyvat and if any creature were to remain on this side, they’d immediately disappear as their existence wasn’t sustained anymore.
The battles to follow were all directed with the goal in mind to keep the enemies near the chosen sealing points.
The first primal portal to be sealed was at Fort Mumei, by the Raiden Shogun herself, who nearly cut the sea in two with her Musou no Hitotachi.
Soon after, Morax with his adepti and Millelith sealed another primal portal under The Chasm, while Murata did the same in the Mare Jivari with the help of both Natlan warriors and the Desert people of Sumeru.
The only two other sealing points left were in Gavireh Lajavard, which was a front protected by both Sumeru and Fontainian people, and Old Mondstadt, which was for the time being under Mondstadt and Snezhnaya’s control.
As Tartaglia, he was specifically requested to join the fight at Old Mondstadt and help seal the portal to the Abyss, right under Decarabian’s old tower.
He fought past beyond what was his exhaustion point every day, keeping the front together with his soldiers and the Knights of Favonius working under Jean Gunnhildr. She was very nice to work with, even if she was weirdly deferential towards a young man dressed like a bard instead of a soldier. However, he didn’t question it, since the young man was an amazing archer and could apparently communicate with Dvalin even better than the members of the Church of Favonius.
They received daily updates to coordinate their attacks from the other main squadron taking care of the sealing of the portal in Old Mondstadt, captained by the Grand Master Varka and Il Capitano. Luckily, in the last missive they received, they were warned that La Signora was coming back from Sumeru to help taking care of the rabid monsters hiding in the wilderness that were too far away from Old Mondstadt for them to hunt efficiently.
He wasn’t sure if it was under Her Majesty’s orders or La Signora simply still cared for those who were once her people, but he would gladly accept anyone’s help at this point.
The day Gavireh Lajavard was sealed, the Abyss’ forces regrouped all their efforts into Old Mondstadt, forcing everyone to ready themselves for the last battle.
Since Morax had taken him back to Snezhnaya, he’d tried to limit his use of Foul Legacy transformation. However, it proved to be impossible to use it sparingly as Old Mondstadt was flooded by Abyss Lectors and Heralds, followed by Wolves of the Rift and other horrifying creatures that he remembered seeing only in the deepest parts of the Abyss.
Belatedly, he wondered if among them was Skirk. She’d never shown any interest in rejoining the realm of humans, and Ajax guessed he’d be able to recognize his old master.
Who knew how she’d react, knowing what and who he was fighting for?
Regardless of all this, he needed to do his duty.
He let Foul Legacy took over, not paying any attention to its screeching words and focusing in slaying monsters.
He made sure not to fight too closely to his human comrades, unsure of what might happen if they were to end up in the crossfire.
The bard dressed in green seemed not to be worried at all. He called for Dvalin and rode him to battle, often flying too close to Foul Legacy.
“Let’s push them towards the sealing point!” the bard said, winking at him, “then I’ll let you have the honor to seal the portal. All you’ll need to do is use all your sources of powers. Yes, if it’s you, you can do it.”
Before he could even fully process his words, the bard flew away with Dvalin, taking aim with his bow as the dragon slew just as many enemies.
He could see the rest of their comrades regrouping to push the Abyss forces towards the sealing point. He was unable to see everyone, but some of them stood out to him. Jean Gunnhildr was fighting side by side with a witch dressed in purple and a knight using a claymore as if she were dancing. Il Capitano was ripping Abyss Lectors to shreds with both his claymore and his less-than-human powers, while the Grand Master Varka stood by his side, as if he was taking note of how many enemies they each took care of. When La Signora arrived, in all her fiery rage, Tartaglia took his cue and readied himself for battle.
Devour
Devour
Dev—fightfightfightfightfight
The voice in his head shut up the moment an enormous beast — the same one he remembered stumbling into when he was in the Abyss — rose above the clouds and then dove into Dvalin.
He remembered trying to fight it — nearly being killed, ripped in two. Luckily, Skirk had been with him. Now, however, it was his time to shine.
He flew forwards, jumping between the beast and Dvalin just in time to push the beast away.
“Go take care of the rest,” his voice came out in a hiss, twisted by the Foul Legacy. However, the bard didn’t appear shaken at all by its monstrosity and simply flew away while loudly thanking him.
He coalesced his abyssal powers in his hand, creating a spear made from the Foul Legacy’s armor and charged with both electro and hydro. Then, he jumped in the air, aiming right at the creature’s head. Blinding it would be useless as it’s used to hunt in total darkness. However, he’d promised himself he’d behead it and he never got back on his word.
He roared at the creature, goading it into attacking him as he guided it towards the tower once symbol of Decarabian’s power.
The amount of taint staining the area around them caused by the enormous creature simply by existing was astounding.
Devour
Devour
Devour
Silence—
Foul Legacy was famished — it was raging at his self-control at not just diving at the creature and biting a chunk of tainted meat off it.
It was revolting, it was so so tempting.
He refocused on the battle ahead of him, charging with his mighty spear and attacking the creature’s jaw with his claws infused with electro.
He could do it, he repeated to himself, as he searched for his comrades, making sure they were still pushing the rest of the abyssal forces towards the sealing point.
He couldn’t get distracted for long, however. The creature he was fighting against wasn’t a trifling enemy — if he underestimated it, he’d end up dead.
He remembered how Skirk scared it away many years ago, scarring its underbelly permanently. He could still see the injury she inflicted it so many years ago.
However, he promised himself nothing less than the beast’s head — and he wouldn’t settle for anything else.
He twisted his body in midair, blocking the creature’s attacks with his trusty elemental shields that easily turned into chances to attack it with more powerful blasts — more power used meant more ramblings from Foul Legacy, with the intent of twisting his thoughts and scratching at his sanity.
Devour
Devour
Devour
Devour
Devour
Devour
Devour
Devour
Devour
Devourdevourdevourdevourdevour—
“It’s time to go!” the bard’s crystalline voice rang in his ears — as if he were singing right beside his ear — and broke him out of his stupor. He’d used for far too long the Foul Legacy transformation, he needed to end this.
He couldn’t afford to look around himself, but even with the side of his eye he could see how everyone was straining to keep the abyssal forces grouped near the sealing point.
Charging up his spear with all his power he rose far from above the creature, then after taunting it to follow him high above Decarabian’s old tower, he dove down, slicing neatly the beast’s head and forcefully pushing its carcass down, crashing it into both the old ruins and the rest of the abyssal forces.
Food
Our food
Our power
Power
Powerpowerpowerpowerpowerpowerpower—
He had to strain himself not to follow after the carcass to absorb its taint, his Foul Legacy crying and screeching at the waste.
He couldn’t get distracted — he’d a job to finish.
He repeated the bard’s instruction in his mind, anchoring his consciousness to those words — he couldn’t collapse before ending it all.
Changing the shape of his spear into an arrow and creating a bow out of Foul Legacy’s armor, he amassed his whole power, making sure to mix his vision, delusion and abyssal powers before shooting the arrow.
A sharp sound resonated in all of Old Mondstadt as his arrow hit its mark, triggering the sealing process just as the bard predicted.
He’d have rejoiced at their victory, joining his comrades in what he was sure were joyful cries of celebration, if not for feeling suddenly exhausted.
Foul Legacy dissipated and with it all his strength.
He was aware he was plummeting to the ground, but he’d no strength to even attempt to save himself. It was as if his body shut down and none of his muscles answered to him.
The last thing he saw, before even his consciousness slipped away, were the sharp jaws of an enormous dragon closing around him.
“He’s not responding…”
“…usual…med…”
“Common practices…”
“We’ll take him back…”
“…favors…”
“…rest…need—”
Childe was unable to stay conscious for long. His eyelids would drop, his eyesight go unfocused, and then everything blanked.
He dreamt.
He dreamt of a time in which he smiled easily, of when he was a good son, fishing with his father and cooking with his mother, of when he was a good brother, playing with his siblings.
He dreamt of the darkness of the Abyss, of Skirk’s teachings and the twisted creatures that roamed that forsaken place.
He dreamt of blood and violence, of enjoying being surrounded by the blood of Her Majesty’s enemies.
He dreamt of a warm and hospitable land, of spicy food served by a chatty girl and a curious bear, of trusty subordinates he could confide in, of a woman dressed in gold sitting behind a desk, of a stern warrior sharpening the blade of his spear, of a group of innocent children running around the sunny wharf, of a mysterious woman playing with her dices, of two women chatting among a pile of paperworks and delicious sweets.
He dreamt of Morax, of his elegant smile, of the way his hands curved around his square cups, of the way he promised to always love him.
When he woke up, he wasn’t lying on a bed of the Church of Favonius anymore, but in his childhood bed.
“Thought you’d like to see a familiar place.”
Childe turned his head slowly, observing Pulcinella sitting comfortably on the short chair Ajax used when he was a child.
Pulcinella squeezed his eyes behind his thick glasses to give him a sharp assessment. “Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m not sure… I guess so?” his voice was raspy with how long he must have slept. “You took me here…”
His body felt heavy and simply wrong, as if something fundamental inside him shifted. Usually, when he felt like this, it was because of Foul Legacy. However, now he couldn’t feel it at all, and considering they sealed the Abyss away from Teyvat, he wasn’t sure it’d come back at all.
“Well, when I wrote to young Tonia about your condition, she asked if you could rest here, and since you didn’t need any special medication and just rest, I accommodated your transfer,” Pulcinella said, getting up to pass him a glass full of water. “Obviously, I organized for your home to be guarded by our best soldiers and I regularly came to visit. After the war, we’ve much to rebuild, but our soldiers also have much more free time.”
Childe blinked, surprised by the nice gesture. He suspected Pulcinella grew fonder of his younger siblings through the years, but it was still unexpected. “Thank you… you didn’t have to.”
“No need for that,” he said, brushing Childe’s apologies away. “Now let me call the young ones. They’ve been worried sick for you.”
“I… is it really fine if I stay here?” he asked, hoping to hide his real worries.
Pulcinella saw right through him. “Young Tonia is quite the character. Wouldn’t be surprised if one of these days she’ll receive a vision.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some members of your family weren’t as enthusiastic as the young ones about having you here,” he said, making it clear to Childe to whom he was referring to. “Well, young Tonia put her foot down and was immovable in her decision, until they agreed to have you stay here for your rest.”
“How… really?”
“For the time being, your eldest brother isn’t staying here, but sometimes his wife passes by with her two little ones to help your mother cooking,” Pulcinella eyed him critically again, before putting more water in his glass. “I’ll contact you in the next days to discuss the future, now that we don’t have the Abyss to worry about anymore. For the time being, rest some more. I’ll call in your siblings, now.”
“Thank you…” he said, feeling sick by how overcame with gratitude he felt, “really, thank you.”
“Boy, I should be the one thanking you,” Pulcinella said, sounding tired beyond his age, before leaving.
Seeing him walk behind the door made Childe panic.
He met his own gaze in the small mirror he stitched back together when he smashed it back when he was fourteen, after he returned from the Abyss. He looked haggard and sickly pale, not like some hero who managed to save the world.
What would his family think?
Would they be worried? Had he made them worry?
His thoughts were interrupted by the door suddenly bursting open and his three younger siblings screaming and crying for their big brother as they jumped into the bed to hug him.
“You’re back!” Tonia cried, hiding her face into his shoulder. “You’re awake!”
“Big brother!” Anthon dove to hug him just like Tonia did, “we were so worried!”
“Big brother!” Teucer shouted, hugging him tightly as if he was scared he might disappear.
Not finding the right words, Childe wrapped them all in his arms, hugging them back. If anyone saw him crying, no one uttered a word.
“Then, the knight rose high above the ground and charged against the evil beast—”
“Was it a dragon?” Anthon suddenly asked, interrupting the story.
“Knights always slay the evil dragons!” Teucer said, enthusiastically.
“Uh… an evil dragon?” Childe couldn’t help his laugh, and even Tonia joined in.
“I think the dragon and the knight are very good friends!” Tonia said, smiling brightly at him. Childe really needed to know what his sister knew exactly, and how she came to have this knowledge.
“Well, the princess is right. The evil beast is not a dragon, but something much scarier,” Childe declared. “If I were to describe it, it’d cause you two unimaginable nightmares!”
“No!”
“I’m way braver!”
A knock at the door distracted them, interrupting again the flow of the story.
“I’m coming!” their mother shouted from the kitchen, immediately shushing Childe to stay where he was on the couch and rest.
He tried to listen in, curious of whom it might be. Father was outside fishing with Tolja, Tymon went to visit Sofja’s parents with their children, while Dora went to the capital for a job interview.
It might be Pulcinella, though he usually warned them in advance before visiting, since his presence put his parents and older siblings on edge.
“Oh my, do come in, come in!” Childe heard his mother say, making him even more curious. “My dear child will love seeing you again!”
Then, he heard Morax’s voice, reassuring his mother and explaining how to brew the Liyue tea he brought as a gift.
Before he could think it through, Childe was running to the door, nearly tripping on his feet. He didn’t fall, though, as warm arms wrapped around his waist to help him to his feet.
“Easy, now,” Morax said as he made sure Childe was alright. His hands were solid and very much real as they now rested on his shoulders.
“You’re here… you’re really here,” he murmured, feeling unshed tears burning in his eyes.
“I am. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner,” Morax said, his expression saddened as he looked Childe over.
“Mr. Zhongli often passed by while you were unconscious,” his mother said, making Childe suddenly remember he wasn’t alone in the hall. “However, something came up and he needed to go back to Liyue a couple of days before you woke up.”
“I’m truly sorry,” Morax said, catching a stray tear and caressing Childe’s cheek until it was warm again.
“You… you were…” Morax had been there for him, waiting for him. Actually, that probably wasn’t the first time. “That dragon… the one that saved me when I fell, it wasn’t Dvalin.”
“Ah, that… I was a little desperate. I came as quickly as I could from Sumeru. I can guarantee you, my intention wasn’t to eat you.”
Laughs bubbled up in his throat, making him unexpectedly happy. He jumped forward, wrapping his arms around Morax’s neck, hugging him close with no intention of letting go.
“You’re here, you’re here!” he chanted happily. Still surprised by Morax’s presence, he wanted to keep him close and stopped hugging him only to guide him to the kitchen, where his mother prepared two samovar, one for the two of them and another for herself and his younger siblings, to distract them and give Childe some space alone with Morax.
“I’m happy to see you’re feeling better,” Morax said, watching carefully as Childe served the both of them some tea with Snowberries jam.
Childe passed him his cup. “I must have been quite the spectacle while unconscious.”
Morax shook his head, sneaking an arm around Childe’s waist to pull him close and sit him on his lap. “The doctors said you were just tired. Your body needed time to heal from your overuse of Foul Legacy and to adapt to its absence, too.”
“Right, I can’t feel it anymore,” Childe admitted, wondering at the future consequences for his body — hopefully, all positive in the long run. “It’s… unexpected, though I should have seen it coming.”
“The Abyss can’t reach Teyvat anymore, so it’s of no surprise that the parasite infesting you can’t either,” Morax said, playfully kissing his temple. “What do you plan to do, now?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, tilting his head to brush their lips together. “I always envisioned coming out of any fight triumphantly, but this is different. I guess I’ll wait for when Her Majesty the Tsaritsa call for me, after my period of rest is over.”
“You deserve all of this. I don’t want to pressure you, but…” Morax stalled, surprising Childe by how unsure he sounded, “if you really have no plans, would you come to Liyue, sometimes?”
Strong emotions overcame him — hope had never shone as brightly at him, before.
“Am I not… I mean, banned?” he asked, sheepishly, not wanting to get his hopes up for nothing. He’d meant to invite Morax to visit him in Snezhnaya in the future, but this was much better, as Childe was aware his job would take him far from Snezhnaya anyway.
“The Abyss is sealed, its power can’t reach Teyvat anymore,” Morax said, his hands cupping Childe’s cheeks. “Therefore, there’s no more need for my contract to exist anymore. It is, as of now, null.”
“You-you really mean it?”
“I’ve no intention of lying.” Morax swore, sealing his promise with a kiss. “I love you, I wish to pass my future by your side, if you want this, too.”
“Oh, Morax,” Childe sighed, feeling tears burning in his eyes again. “I want to, I want you. I’ll ask the Tsaritsa to station me in Liyue. I want to be together with you, too.”
“I love you,” Morax murmured against his lips, pulling him for a kiss again. “I couldn’t be any happier.”
“I’m happy, too. I always am, by your side.”
With more kisses and more promises to build their future together, the day passed by, between playing with Childe’s younger siblings and planning for their life together in Liyue. Morax still insisted he’d look gorgeous in red, whatever he meant by that.