Work Text:
When she opens her eyes, she sees the great dragon hovering before her, patient and silent. In this dream, she is freed from the agony of her tormented body, and she loathes the inevitable moment she will wake.
“You will not wake,” Morax speaks then, “Your time has come.”
Her time… she lets out a low chuckle. So she couldn’t hold out after all, couldn’t wait for her to come. Couldn’t fulfill her promise to her. Couldn’t speak to her one last time. Couldn’t—
The great dragon uncoils itself, its long serpentine body curling around her, lifting her up. “You linger.”
She finds the strength to speak, her throat as dry as tumbleweed. Of course she lingers. “I… made a promise.”
“So do many mortals, even when they cannot fulfill them.”
But— this is different. This is her. “I cannot… leave her. Not like this.”
A pause. The Geo Archon regards her with curiosity. “Have you forgotten? The pain and the fear?”
“I—” She stops, the rest of her words strangled in a scream, as the memories flood her soul. The stale dampness of a ruin. The cold, moist rocks scraping against the cuts on her back. The icy water flooding her senses, rushing into her lungs— the violent coughing and choking, her body struggling to live. The hands and the voices, demanding to know the secrets she held as Liyue’s Tianquan. Her silence, rewarded by the crackle of Electro and the fury of Pyro. The endless nights chained to a Cryo-infused pillar, teeth chattering from the cold—
“Stop it!”
The memories vanish at her command. She shakily lifts her head, staring at the Archon before her. The Archon whom the Qixing served, who had allowed all this to happen to her without intervening, until the moment of her death.
“I cannot interfere with mortal affairs,” Morax says as hatred burns in her eyes. “But I took you as soon as your soul was freed from its prison.”
And she is supposed to be grateful for that? She hangs her head, her soul aching dully at the memories she now recalls. But— beyond that, she recalls a time before the pain. Her boisterous laugh, her twinkling eye, her desperate plea—
—promise me— you’ll return.
“But I am mortal no longer, am I?” she asks softly, “I am but a soul, my body lost.”
Morax does not speak.
She is already gone. All that she will find is a lifeless shell. But it should not end like this. They should not end like this. Somehow, somewhere, she has to go back. She has to see her again, if only to fulfill her promise. “Then perhaps, before I disappear, you could do one last thing for me.”
“And why would I?”
“You are the god of contracts.” She holds her head high. “And I would not ask of you anything I am not prepared to pay an equal price for.”
The Geo Archon tilts his massive snout, bemused. “Speak.”
She sucks in a deep breath, carefully choosing her next words. She spent most of her mortal life doing this: dancing around words, religiously maintaining the laws of Liyue. It should be second nature by now, and yet she hesitates, for an agreement drawn with the god of contracts is no ordinary pact. “You will craft me a new body and return my soul to it, so that I may live as a mortal once again. At the end of my restored life… you may do as you please with my soul. It is yours.”
What is a single human soul to Rex Lapis? She does not know, but it is all she has, and it is all she can offer. After all, no riches, or knowledge, or skill is of value to a divine being. The Geo Archon knows this very well, and he does not immediately respond. But she is used to the silence of negotiations, and holds her tongue until he lets out a rumbling chuckle.
“Lady Ningguang… you have always been an astute one, even during the days you walked Yaoguang Shoal barefoot, picking shells and chasing a dream.” He slowly releases her from his grip, rising to his full height as a massive serpentine dragon. “The contract can be drawn, but there are conditions.”
She raises her head, staring at him quietly.
“Should I return you to life, you will no longer be human. You will be an adeptus— a soul bound to serve me for as long as Teyvat lives. You will outlive all others, even the one to whom you made a promise.”
Ah. She understands. In exchange for this second change, she will have to watch her die. The thought causes her breath to catch in her throat. Can she do it? Can she hold her hand till her last breath leaves her body? Can she bear to spend an eternity apart just for this promise?
Still— if it means they can spend the rest of her fleeting life together—
“And there is one more condition: for you to ascend and become an adeptus, you must be worshipped.”
Her mind blanks.
“Someone will have to offer lives in your name, for me to grant you even a modicum of godhood.”
She freezes. “How long… do I have?” she asks softly, “Before my soul…”
“Ten mortal days, at most. I can only keep you here, with your memories intact, for so long before the leylines have you. You will not be able to reach anyone here, nor will anyone reach you, in this domain of mine.”
Ten days. That will be enough. She gathers her courage and meets the dragon’s piercing gaze. “Very well.”
Morax tilts his head, bemused once again. “You have faith that someone will do this? That this person you made a promise with would kill in your name, without knowing of your goal to ascend?”
She thinks of her. Of her gentle ruby eye, that crooked grin, that messy mop of brown hair. She will have to do something about that unruly hair of hers eventually, make her look presentable at least. “I do not have faith she will,” she says softly, a smile dancing on her lips—
“I know.”
***
On behalf of her love, she no longer sleeps.
She treks the wilds, gathering information that she brings to a tiny shed buried deep in Liyue’s forests. There, she finds stacks of reports, each one a careful documentation of interrogations conducted by Yelan as she continues her work for the Liyue Qixing. Everything and anything related to Ningguang’s disappearance and last moments is here, in this shed.
The culmination of three days of hard work.
Beidou is beginning to form a picture of the events that led to Ningguang’s abduction. It was supposed to be a simple diplomatic trip to Fontaine. Ningguang was due to board a ship at Yilong Wharf, but she never did. Somewhere along the way, her entourage was attacked, and she was taken. Beidou has seen the massacre. Not a single guard was left alive.
Five days of not knowing.
And then— they found her. She was hanging from a ledge deep in a ruin, strangled to death. It was Beidou who took down her mutilated body, who immediately knew that death had been a mercy. And all she could think, then, was how she’d returned every single time from the seas, till the day she left the fleet in Kazuha’s hands. And yet, when it was Ningguang’s turn to leave—
—Ningguang, you promised to return to me.
They had so much left to live. So many sunrises and sunsets to see. So much time together, stripped away on a single trip. How fragile humans are.
She’d wept her tears until they dried— but the pain stayed the same. She could not let her die in vain. There and then, cradling Ningguang’s broken body in her arms, she made a promise.
I’ll revenge your soul in time. I will hunt them down, the ones who did this to you. Every last one of them. I’ll make them bleed down at my feet.
Written on a tear-splotched parchment are five names. The five who orchestrated her kidnap and murder. Names that she has etched upon her heart, names that she will haunt down all the way, no matter what it takes. Beidou crumples the paper into a ball, and takes up her claymore once more.
***
The Alcor unfurls its red sails, Captain Beidou at its helm.
A gust of Anemo, called forth by Kazuha, and the ship slices a path through the seas like an arrow fired towards its target. A final mission, a final request from their former Captain, broken by despair. How could the crew of the Alcor refuse?
Five names. Two destinations. One by one they are surprised.
She walks into the Akademiya with her claymore drawn. The guards stand no chance against the slayer of Haishan, Captain of the Crux. Mantles she laid down a year ago to stay with her in the Jade Chamber, that she takes up once again for her. In her name.
She cuts them down, every last guard that dares approach. She flicks blood and entrails off her claymore as she enters the office of the first target. Vermin. She stabs her sword through his chest and pins him against the wall. She utters not a word, for they are beneath her. He whimpers and blubbers, and the noises irk her.
For all the pleas Ningguang made, did they ever listen?
She lops his upper body off with a single swing and a grunt, painting the walls with thick red. She steps over white bone and crimson carpets, pausing only to wring blood from her soaked garments. The stench of death fills the air. She opens the door to more guards, who falter at the sight of her, drenched in crimson as bright as her lifeless ruby eye, her lips sealed in silence.
She stabs every single one who does not run.
Her bloodstained Vision dangles from her waist as she enters the library, where she finds the remaining two scholars cowering in a corner, knowing who she is and why she is here. They speak her name, and Beidou sees red.
How dare they. They do not deserve to utter her name.
Ningguang—
She empties their entrails on the ground, sheathes her sword, and returns to the Alcor. Her crew do not speak. Kazuha’s eyes are sad. She utters only a quiet “thanks”, for it is all she can muster without falling apart. And if she unravels, she will never fulfill her mission.
Beidou will not let her death go unpunished.
***
In the dark of night she wonders. Could she have known about their true intentions?
Could she have stopped it all? Should she have gone with Ningguang? Would it have made a difference? Beidou lies awake in her bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. The sound of waves gently lapping against the hull once brought her peace. Now they grate against her ears. She yearns only for silence; the very silence Ningguang now resides in.
You promised to return to me.
In her fleeting dreams, she holds Ningguang tight to her. Her silky hair that flows like the sea. Her sharp wine-red eyes. Her arrogant yet gentle smile. Her breathy laughs and quiet whispers. Their fingers interlaced together like a key in a lock.
But as she wakes, Ningguang slips away.
***
The last one hides in the Grand Goth Hotel. It could not be easier to find him; the guards have all but fled, choosing their lives over a mere job. He is a quivering mess in his room, having heard of his associates’ demise. He begs for mercy, for his life. Beidou gives him none, for he did not spare her.
She asks the crew to drop her at Guyun Stone Forest. She thanks them for their help. She walks along the sandy beach and stops before the plaustrite elevator hidden among the rocks. She would step on this in a time long gone, and it would take her — and only her — to the Jade Chamber. An elevator infused with her elemental signature, activated only by her Vision.
She stabs her bloodstained claymore deep into the sand. The blood is still fresh. Crimson runs down sand till it is washed away by the gentle sea. Beidou falls to her knees before the claymore, her job done. Each and every life that had a hand in Ningguang’s death, taken by her own hand and offered to her like a gift.
Now— life has no meaning. Nothing to make her stay.
Perhaps she will kneel here till Ningguang returns. She promised, after all. And if she stays long enough, unmoving, Ningguang will surely come.
***
It is a strange sensation to have a body once again. The sun gazes down on her, warm and kind. She stares at her hands, at her legs, and they are whole. She takes a deep breath and tastes the salty sea breeze on her lips. She gets to her feet, stumbling along warm sand, towards the plaustrite elevator she knows.
She finds her there, the love of her life. Kneeling before a bloodstained claymore, as still as stone. Oh, Beidou— she knew. She always knew. She believed. She stumbles forward, touching Beidou’s shoulder, ignoring the crusted blood on her clothes and arms.
Beidou turns, ruby eye widening, and Ningguang smiles.
She melts into Beidou’s tight embrace, held so close their bodies could be one. Beidou shrugs off her cloak with one hand and drapes it around her bare shoulders. Ningguang does not care that the stench of death assails her nose. Nor does she care that the hands holding her are stained with blood. It does not matter that the lips she kisses have a metallic taste to them, or that the cheeks she cradles are sunburnt and scarred.
“Beidou—”
She hears a sniffle. “I’m— I’m here, Ning. I’m here.”
You promised to return to me—
And I believed.
—FIN.