Back upstairs, the three of them are seated around the teapot in the middle of the room. Hat Man, more formally known as the Wanderer, sits unusually still with his eyes closed, leaving the other two no option but to stare at each other.
The 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, Hu Tao, clears her throat.
‘Ah, the end of every path,’ she says, rocking back and forth, ‘Not even my dearest consultant could accept it when it came to him. I told him, a soul existing in such a state could only suffer. I never thought I’d say this, but poor Tartaglia.’ She glances at the teapot, then at him. ‘I don’t like to rush people, but you need to do something here.’
‘I’m not talking to him.’
‘Well, who else? Hat Guy is asleep and he’s locked me out.’
He sighs and stands up, the joints in his legs creaking. The Wanderer cracks open a single eye.
‘Good luck.’
Before he can gape at the man’s much softer tone, he’s back in the courtyard. Ei is no longer seated at the table, but the door to the house is ajar. He takes that as an invitation.
Flowers carpet the floor, their vines reaching curious tendrils towards him as he steps past them as carefully as he can. The vines’ singular origin is easy to determine, with its open door and two figures clearly visible through it.
If possible, Zhongli looks worse. Aside from the pallor of his skin and the way he struggles to stand, even with Ei supporting him, the sweet smell of death that radiates from him would make anyone gag.
Ei notices him first and beckons him forward. Zhongli refuses to meet his gaze, instead choosing to stare at the floor.
‘We’re going to find Tartaglia’s consciousness. Or, what’s left of it.’
Ei makes a soft ‘hm?’ sound.
‘I don’t understand the specifics, but since he’s not anchored to a specific vessel, like a knowledge capsule, —’ Or me, ‘ —he should land somewhere in a dream. Luckily for us, the Dendro Archon is investigating that specific dream realm.’
When Zhongli speaks, his voice is barely audible. ‘What do you need from me?’
‘Preferably you. He won’t trust any of us enough to not kill us on sight.’
Zhongli sighs. ‘This is my responsibility. However, I am afraid that is not possible.’
‘Why not?’
Ei adjusts her grip around his shoulders. ‘There’s not enough of him to exist outside of this realm.’
‘...oh.’
His brain is whirring, though its results remain empty. Who else would Tartaglia trust enough to approach him? His family? Maybe he should track down his family home again—’
Ei’s shocked gasp shakes him from his thoughts. With a shaking hand, Zhongli is reaching for his left eye, finding the flower that grows there. With a firm tug, the growth comes loose, blood streaming down Zhongli’s face in its wake.
‘This should be enough.’
‘Eh?’
His jaw still hangs open as Zhongli hands the bloom to him.
‘All that I am. My memories, and theirs.’
He doesn’t understand, but he tucks the flower into his pocket nonetheless. ‘Let’s hope he recognises this.’
Zhongli takes a deep breath. ‘I… apologise.’
‘Bit too late for that,’ he says, though there is no venom in his voice. ‘I’ll do my best to make sure he goes where he’s supposed to. And you…’
‘I will heed their call.’ Blood drips down Zhongli’s face and onto the floor, landing on the white petals that cover the floor. ‘I should have gone a long time ago. To hold onto so many memories… I can put down my final burden today.’
Ei stands back, dumbfounded, as Zhongli limps to his desk, at which he proceeds to sit, his hands intertwined.
‘Make sure his end is as peaceful as mine.’
He nods, dumbfounded, as Ei rests a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort. It is not an unwelcome gesture.
Ei swallows. ‘Morax…’
‘Go with him. Your prowess is more useful on his path.’
Before they leave the room once more, Ei stops to pluck a flower from the ground, its petals stained with Zhongli’s blood.
He watches, completely silent, as Ei tucks the flower into her hairpin, red against the pink of cherry blossoms.
~~~
‘I’m back!’ he announces as he lands on the wooden floor. The Wanderer tears his gaze away from the collection of cards and dice in front of him to raise an eyebrow quizzically at Ei, who stands awkwardly in a corner.
Now that they are in the same room, their similarities are accentuated. Same eyes, same hair, even the slight tilt of the eyebrow are the same.
‘Are you two related?’
‘No,’ say the Wanderer and Ei at the same time.
Huh.
Hu Tao is standing near the window, hands clasped behind her back, head tilted as if deep in thought. He leaves Ei to stare intently at the Wanderer and approaches her.
‘He can’t leave personally.’
‘A shame.’
‘But he did give me this.’
He produces the flower. Hu Tao makes a faint noise of approval.
‘Guess we’re following his lead now.’
The Wanderer clears his throat at that. All eyes immediately snap to him.
‘We’ve wasted enough time,’ he says in his usual drawl. ‘I have a job to do.’
He heads out of the door, followed immediately by Hu Tao. Ei looks hesitantly at him.
‘Have you thought of a name yet?’
‘Huh?’
‘I think, and the other would agree, that referring to you as “Not-Tartaglia” is less than accurate,’ she says.
‘Yeah… I’m going to think about that later.’
When Ei leaves, he thinks, for the first time, what it would be like for someone to call his name.
~~~
The Wanderer’s name is not the Wanderer, but he refuses to tell anyone what it is.
‘Look, I trusted a friend to find me a good name,’ he says, the faintest of blushes on his face. ‘I didn’t think she’d—that’s not the point. You still haven’t taken me up on my offer yet.’
‘That’s because “Ginger” is an awful name.’
He snorts. ‘And just like that, you already have more taste than him. I’ll try to think of something.’
They are on Beidou’s ship, and Hu Tao has had to retire to her cabin, her face green. Ei is talking to Beidou, the two of them standing at the helm of the ship like two statues. The Wanderer extracts a packet of cards from his pocket.
‘I’m not one for cards,’ he says quickly, and the Wanderer shakes his head.
‘You’re no fun.’
They lean against the railing together, watching seagulls dive into the water by the golden harbour that is receding further and further as time passes, emblazoned against the rising sun. He wonders what’s under the water, buried under the livelihoods of hundreds of people. It must have shown on his face, because the Wanderer crosses his arms.
‘Don’t bother. You’re better off not knowing.’
‘When you talked to me in that forest… about “our kind”, are there more of us?’
‘No. Well, there is one more. Though her relationship with her host is truly unique.’
His gaze is fixed on Ei, her long braid floating in the ocean wind.
‘Do you really not know her?’
‘No—you won’t believe me. Fine. We knew each other once. She doesn’t remember me now, and it will stay that way.’
‘Maybe you should talk to her,’ he says.
‘Not a chance.’
‘Hey, it’s not that bad,’ he says, remembering the last time talking has solved his problems. The Wanderer scoffs.
‘Trust me. I’m not one to run from consequences, but this… this is for the best, for both her and me.’
He shrugs and goes back to watching seagulls. The Wanderer closes his eyes, then opens them again.
‘Abrax.’
‘Hm?’
‘Your name. I’ve been studying the lore of the Watatsumi people, and Aberaku—or Abrax—was revered for ending the terror of the vishaps and welcoming a new age of humanity.’ The Wanderer peers at him from under his hat. ‘Take his name and do something with it.’
The feeling in his chest is not entirely unpleasant. ‘ …Thank you.’
The Wanderer’s lips turn upwards in a half-smile.
~~~
Ei still stands at the helm when night falls, and Beidou leaves the job of piloting the ship to one of her trusty sailors.
‘I feel like I’m forgetting something,’ Ei says.
He stays silent.
‘He looks so familiar. If he were one of my creations… but that’s not possible.’ She turns to him. ‘Have you decided on a name yet?’
‘He suggested Abrax.’
‘Hm. A good name.’
She leans against the railing of the ship. Then, ‘I understand if you’re angry at me.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘I will take responsibility,’ she says, steely. ‘If not for my cooperation, you would not have suffered for so long.’
‘It’s fine, really.’
‘I don’t understand. Under any other circumstance, I would have let any creation of mine go free once I knew that they weren’t compatible. But the way he talked about his friend… ah. That hit too close to home.’
He tilts his head. ‘Well, have you? Let any of your creations go?’
‘I would have, if she were any less suitable for the job. Housing the mind and Gnosis of a god is not a task I would force upon the unwilling.’
He swears he sees the tails of someone’s hat swish out of sight behind a mast.
‘I was never fit to lead. And maybe this is the ultimate proof. Ah, retirement… I understand Morax much more now.’
She touches the bloodstained petals tucked into her hair.
Abrax leaves her to her thoughts.
~~~
Hu Tao is still dizzy even when the ship stops, her legs trembling as she hangs on to Abrax’s shoulders.
‘Ugh… the sea. How Beidou even does this…’
‘You don’t have to do this.’
‘I have a job to do,’ she says, barely managing to make it out of the door before stumbling. ‘Whatever he’s done, whatever he is now, he will have his rest.’
‘You’re really dedicated, huh.’
‘Hah. That’s something I haven’t heard in a while,’ she chuckles. ‘Speaking of which, I’m surprised Zhongli didn’t come.’
Abrax breathes a long sigh. ‘He… he’s probably not with us anymore.’
‘And he didn’t even ask me to bury him? Aiya… how horribly unsentimental.’
‘There probably isn’t any of him left. Well, apart from this.’ He produces the flower from his pocket. ‘Tell you what, after I’m done, you can bury this with him.’
When she emerges out of her cabin and into the light of the rising sun, she inhales, then breathes out slowly.
‘I knew he was tired. I wanted him to rest. But… not like this.’
Abrax pats her on the shoulder.