by a_seagulls_hubris
Rating: Teen, M/M, Complete Work
Published 5 February 2023
‘You’ve lived for so long,’ he says, his voice soft, as if he also wants to preserve the silence. ‘Yet you… you’ve loved so many. Mortals included.’ Me included. ‘Why? Even with…’ All the pain. All the loss. The knowledge that you’ll outlive everything you’ve ever given a piece of your heart to. ‘You don’t have to answer,’ he adds quickly, ‘It’s a very personal question, ha.’
The laugh is weak and forced, but I still smile.
I sit up straighter, my hands still in his hair, and begin to sift through my memories.
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Tartaglia | Childe/Zhongli (Genshin Impact), Zhongli (Genshin Impact), Tartaglia | Childe (Genshin Impact), Xiao | Alatus (Genshin Impact), Guizhong (Genshin Impact), Retuo Longwang | Azhdaha (Genshin Impact), Ambiguous Relationships, Implied/Referenced Suicide, POV Zhongli (Genshin Impact), POV First Person, Character Study, sappy angst or however you call it
This can be read as a continuation of my last fic. Reading the previous fic is not required, but it does provide some additional context.
He is curled up beside me, his head resting on my shoulder, sleepiness slowly sapping him of the manic energy that usually gripped him.
It's a quiet night, a warm sea breeze blowing in through the window. I've only mentioned my address once, and the fact that he remembers only makes the knot in my stomach grow tighter. There is so much I want to say to him, to apologise, to confess, but any sound I make, even the slightest shift of my coat against the couch, seems to defile the silence of the room that seems almost sacred.
He gives in and rests his head on my lap, and I run my ungloved hands through his hair. Slowly, he takes in a breath.
‘You’ve lived for so long,’ he says, his voice soft, as if he also wants to preserve the silence. ‘Yet you… you’ve loved so many. Mortals included.’ Me included. ‘Why? Even with…’ All the pain. All the loss. The knowledge that you’ll outlive everything you’ve ever given a piece of your heart to. ‘You don’t have to answer,’ he adds quickly, ‘It’s a very personal question, ha.’
The laugh is weak and forced, but I still smile.
I sit up straighter, my hands still in his hair, and begin to sift through my memories.
~~~
She’s too soft-hearted, too… temporary. She gets attached to humans, those sparks of flame that burn too brightly and too fast.
Yet, she had asked for my protection, sealing our pledge with a stone dumbbell, and I would not deny her that. She leaves me alone for the next few days, usually going off to build yet another machine or talk to yet another human. In all honesty, I thought her foolish, especially when she started trying to talk to me. Something about a ballista, a… weapon?
Who knew she had such a ruthless streak. She draws up blueprints and plans, testing those devices over and over again, sometimes with uncharacteristic cursing, until she finally perfects it. A valuable allyship, I think. We could do great things together.
Then she meets another adeptus, a crane called Cloud Retainer, and then it’s not just the two of us anymore.
They talk about their machines, an allyship that soon blossoms into a friendly rivalry. Soon they are joined by another, a lover of music, whom she called her muse. Their endlessly entertaining conversations, accompanied by osmanthus tea, could now only be interrupted by Marchosius and his finely cooked dishes.
She has to lean against me when she laughs too hard, and I realise I don’t care much about strength and power at that moment.
~~~
War is merciless, and you fight its cruelty with brute force. Her nature did not allow her to do that, not when ash rained from the heavens and forced our people to move southwards.
She returns to the dust she came from, and I spend too many years wandering the ravaged lands of Guili Assembly, searching for any sign of her corpse, any evidence that she was once alive.
I collapse to my knees one day, clawing at my face, and scream.
There is nothing left of her.
~~~
I find one of her blueprints, stashed away in my things, many years later. It’s the ballista, now named after her, which she spent so many years perfecting.
Steely resolve grips my soul.
I will not let all her work go to waste. I will take her legacy and move on, protect the people she loved so much, make sure she did not die in vain.
She will not be forgotten.
~~~
I find him when he awakens from his age-long slumber. He is blind, but he wishes to see the surface world. I agree and unearth him from the ground.
My people would remember this as an act of generosity, but I knew I wanted an equal, a friend.
I mask it with a contract.
He appreciates the gift of sight fully. A valuable ally, a guide to humanity, but most importantly, my companion.
Sometimes, when our duties allow it, he takes me to mountaintops and ravines, just the two of us. He breathes in the silence with me, taking in all this world has to offer, through the hardship and the pain.
He loves, fully and courageously, and I love him for it.
~~~
Time, it seems, is working against me.
He begins to forget. First the erosion that has subdued rocks and mountains much older than he, then the miners in the Chasm. Life seeps away from him, and sometimes he turns to me and asks if he knows who I am.
Desperately, I channel my power to him, trying to keep his mind intact, even if I know that it will claim him eventually.
And then he attacks my people.
They cry out for my help, and with a heavy heart, I pick up my spear and fulfil my end of our contract.
My hands are steady, as stone should be, but they shake when I seal him away.
Deep down, I began to tire.
~~~
When I make plans to gamble away my Gnosis, I am so, so tired. I am tired of burying old friends, of being the only thing left standing when all the carnage is over.
I want to go to sleep and never wake up. I am exhausted from all this feeling.
But I cannot leave my people to fend for themselves.
So, before that, I put plans into place. First, I pay an old friend a visit.
Atop his perch on the roof of Wangshu Inn, the Vigilant Yaksha bows his head to me. Immediately, I know something is wrong. He is shivering, his hands clenching around his mask.
‘I’m fine,’ he says. ‘It always passes.’
I sit down next to him.
Throughout all my years, I have mastered the art of letting silence draw out words. I let it be, let my presence meld with the sounds of the night.
Finally, he says, ‘I should have died a long time ago.’
I let him talk. He is tired of this existence, of being barely alive, of wrestling with a curse that eats away at his body every moment of the day. Through one sacrifice, his story would at least have an end.
There is nothing for him here, just an endless cycle of battle and suffering.
‘I am awfully selfish,’ he finishes. ‘Here I am, complaining about not being appreciated enough while people still need me to keep them safe.’
No, I think. I may have said that out loud. There is no shame in wanting to be loved.
Throughout the next few weeks, I appear to my adepti in dreams, hinting not so subtly that maybe they should check on the Conqueror of Demons. Maybe he needs some help, I say. I hear the residual hatred of dead gods is much stronger these few weeks.
I will stay awake, even if it’s just for him. After all, I was the one who assigned him his duty.
He will not carry the weight of it alone.
~~~
The Cryo Archon sends help in the form of her Eleventh Harbinger. He is an agent of chaos, she says, his desire for strength outweighing any cunning he may have.
From the moment I see him, I know he will not hesitate to hurt my people, kill them even.
I know I can handle him. I’ve taught more than a few hotheaded youngsters a lesson.
Like all of them, his ego is all-encompassing. Of course he can challenge Morax, Lord of Geo and win. Eventually, he adds. He will lose, but he will learn, and he will get stronger.
There is a hint of desperation in his words, like he has no other option.
He is completely honest with himself, all claws and teeth and bloodlust. He hides it, of course, but the glint that shows up in his dull eyes when he comes across a ruin guard on one of our walks gives him away.
When he pulls out the Electro Delusion, I know that he will burn out far too quickly. An already short life, now cut even shorter by this almost deranged determination.
I know better than to try and convince him to stop. He is beyond saving, and he knows it.
But at the very least, I can give him good memories of this place. I talk and talk about the land and the people I’ve loved so much, of everything we’ve been through together, and he stops tapping his foot just to listen.
Even knowing what he has come here to do, I can tell that he is falling in love with this foreign land.
Maybe he will leave behind a piece of his heart when he leaves, and spend years running his hands over the hole, wondering why he had allowed it to happen. But I think I speak for experience when I say that the memory of being loved will mend it in time.
With how he lights up when I say I enjoy his company, I believe he will know the same thing soon.
~~~
‘I’m leaving tomorrow,’ he almost mumbles, ‘Have to report back to Her Majesty.’
His hand on my knee loosens its grip and he slowly drifts into unconsciousness.
I run my hands through his hair again, listening to the steady sound of his breathing, and I answer his question.
‘I have lost many friends, yes. So many.’ I take a deep breath. ‘But their memories stay. Their legacies do. I carry them with me, and in time… they become a part of me.’
I drink her favourite tea when I listen to the harbour’s storytellers. I am fond of sitting atop lonely mountaintops and drinking in the silence that calms my tumultuous thoughts. I fight the same way a courageous group of warriors did, all to protect the land we’ve built using our sweat and blood.
‘I am composed of everything I’ve ever loved. I will live on, and they will too.’
He is asleep, but I swear I hear the ghost of a chuckle.
~~~
He kisses me on the forehead in the morning before he leaves.
‘Thank you.’ He gives my hand one last squeeze. ‘Thank you for loving me.’
~~~
After work, I go for a walk near the port. I stop for a while and close my eyes, taking in the smell of the ocean breeze, the sound of merchants closing up shop for the day, and suddenly being aware of the strange weight in my pocket.
I pull out a pouch full of coins. I hold back a laugh, knowing exactly who put it there.
‘Thank you too,’ I murmur into the sea breeze, letting it carry my words to him.
i lied when i said i wouldn't update, i think i unsealed a pandora's box of fic ideas when i wrote the last one. something to look forward to i guess.
i'm hoping i did Zhongli's character justice because. christ this guy is hard to write. especially when i don't have coherent thoughts most of the time
the title comes from a quote from The Beatrice Letters by Lemony Snicket. The full one is quite long but you can find it by searching 'I will love you until your face is fogged by distant memory'.
thanks for reading!