Chapter 5

                                    

                                          
The first few days after Barbatos' disappearance had been chaotic. They had yelled at him, criticized him, and failed miserably to notice that he was injured. They should have guessed he would not miss such an important meeting. They should have guessed there must have been a reason to his hood still being up and covering his face. But how could they, when all they ever did was see his mistakes? 
And then this gigantic dragon came, his scales the ethereal Anemo color they were all familiar with after seeing them so many times on Barbatos himself. How could they forget about such a dragon when its huge size and large wings had forced them to retreat a little. The dragon was bigger in size than all his adepti put together. The Archons and him had long wondered why they never heard of such a creature, why the never knew Barbatos had a dragon to keep him company, how they never discovered the dragon's existence in the first place. 
The Tsaritsa was quick to reminded them that they never cared enough to ask about Barbatos, never giving him a reason to talk about anything personal, much less a dragon. 
That had stung, but he knew he wasn't allowed to feel that way. Not after what they did. 
Only a few days later did news spread to Liyue about a fight taking place in Mondstadt's frozen mountain. Usually, Morax would not have given it much thoughts. After all, it didn't concern Liyue, it was not his job, nor was it in his interest to learn about it. However, when he heard that the fight concerned Barbatos, the strange dragon whom he discovered was one of the four winds of Mondstadt - as he later learned where the four protectors aiding Barbatos - and a corrupted creature named Durin, did Morax realize something bigger than he thought must have happened. So he quickly sent a message to the other five remaining Archons and rushed to Mondstadt. For the first time since Guizhong died, his heart had been beating fast, his breathing quick, hoping to right a wrong he had shamefully done. Hoping to be able to give Barbatos the apologize he deserved. One thought had also been present, dominating the rest, but he had tried hard to not think about it. He hadn't dared imagine what would happen if it  were to be true, if he was too late, if something irreversible had happened to the youngest of the Seven. Morax was the oldest, wasn't he? He should have helped the younger one instead of judging him. He should have guided him. Instead, he had judged a god who had little to no experience, who was born a few years before entering a war he was not guaranteed to win, who had a pitifully small number of soldiers because Mondstadt had just lost its previous god. And although Morax did not know anything about how the nation freed itself from Decarabian's reign, he did know it was the day Barbatos became an Archon, entered the cruel world that was the god's, not even aware of the cruel path he would have to walk down through. Morax knew what kind of hardship a god faced, and yet he never bothered to sympathize with the one who had no one to help him, to face those hardships with him. He would forever be guilty of this. 
After what had felt like an eternity, he had finally arrived in Dragonspine, because that was the name given to the mountain. He couldn't help the shiver at the freezing wind that had hit him as soon as he had set foot on the snowy ground, so different than Barbatos' warm winds. The difference had immediately slapped him in the face to remind him once more of his wrongdoings with the smaller god. Morax had been quick to notice that something was wrong with the flow of ley-line energy emanating from this mountain, and so he had followed this feeling hoping for it to lead him to where the fight had taken place. Quickly enough did he reach the top of Dragonspine, only to be met by a sight he kept seeing in his nightmares for the next few centuries to come. What he had seen wasn't all white anymore, because a bright red color had joined the scenery that he had at the time no problem imagining in his head, how it all went down. The air had been saturated with Anemo energy, some crystalflies born from it flying close to the rocks. Blood had been everywhere, the smell of iron infiltrating his nostrils and making him scrunch his nose in disgust.