He does not seem angry. Still, underneath the carefully measured calm is a roiling ocean, barely suppressed in the moments after he had woken up.
And I owe him this much, at least.
He’s breathing hard, turning slightly to the side so that I don’t see him hold a hand to his ribs. I avoid his gaze, the half-feral look in his eyes.
‘First… I want to clarify something about us.’
‘I know,’ he says. ‘Brave of you to come clean about it. Most people don’t even bother explaining how exactly they used me. But no hard feelings.’ His teeth are gritted, but he forces a smile. ‘He wasn’t the culprit, was he? You just wanted something from him.’
I look down at my hands. My left arm is once again undamaged, though the fingers continue to clench around nothing. Fighting the rising panic, I search through my mind. Strange, that I did not feel a gap in my memories when she willingly walked into the embrace of a god. Perhaps it had been replaced with something else more… distracting. Steely. The thrill of the chase, the determination of a hunter.
Ah, there it is. The pinpoint of warmth that pulses and burns and hurts, returned to its rightful place. All this while, Childe is looking at me curiously, his breathing even once more.
‘And would you look at that! You’ve got it.’
I force myself to meet his gaze. He has lifted himself onto the couch, extending a hand to pull me up. I stretch out my legs, wince at the pain in my knees. He seems to notice, withdrawing his offer to help.
‘You’re not answering my questions.’
I straighten my aching back. The apartment’s curtains are half-open, opening out into a blood red sunset. Had we been gone for so long?
I decide to tackle the task at hand.
‘I am a part of him. Morax.’
‘Liar.’ Childe’s tone is light, too light. As if he is forcing it to stay afloat. ‘You understand him, all right, but you are not a god. Not even a part of him. If you were, you would have enough strength to just take what you wanted. None of this subterfuge. Tell me again, what are you?’
I take a deep breath, exhale slowly. ‘It is… hard to explain. But I am a fragment of his mind. And a fragment of his comrades’ minds. I am their memories of Morax, taken form.’
Childe breaks his stare, resting his chin in his hands, thinking. ‘Memories given a body… Terribly rare, given what most gods are like. Ah, I know several people who’d like to cut you open in an attempt to understand you. But that’s not what I’m after. I think, —’ he says. Scarlet light from the window falls upon his pale skin, and I realise for the first time that he has freckles. ‘ —you owe me a truth.’
‘I will answer to the best of my ability.’
I know I have made a mistake when he smiles. ‘You know how a god thinks,’ he says, his gaze distant. ‘I want to know: how much does a god remember?’
His question is only half-finished. I can only try to tread carefully now. ‘He cannot.’
‘But he was holding on to one of your precious memories.’
‘There’s a difference,’ I say. ‘He possesses it in the way you would possess a locked safe you do not know the combination of. He can cherish it, keep it, but he will never understand what makes it so precious.’
‘I see. Then, does a god feel?’
I think back to the island, the regret in its golden eyes, the raw determination with which it snapped its jaws together. I open my mouth, ready to deny it, but the words are stuck in my throat.
‘Thank you,’ says Childe quietly. ‘I understand now.’
He gets up to leave. I reach forward and grab his ankle. He sighs and looks down at me, hands on his hips. ‘What is it now?’
‘Childe,’ I say. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘It’s not like you don’t know what the Tsaritsa demands of us. What is it to you, anyway?’
‘Some things are not worth your mind.’ I fish for excuses. ‘Is your family worth forgetting? Your siblings?’
‘Don’t you—don’t lecture me on this. Everything I do, I do for them.’
I clamber to my feet. ‘There are other solutions.’
He laughs, a soft sound that sends cold creeping across my chest. ‘Should have thought that through before you tricked me into fighting a god, huh? Not that I’m complaining, but knowing what assumptions you had to make… well, you’re lucky I like risking my life.’
‘I never assumed that you would die.’
‘Come on. You know what price mortals must pay to obtain an audience with a god. Isn’t that what happened to her? Your Guizhong?’
I bite back a hiss. ‘What have you seen?’
‘Just because time shatters across the dream doesn’t mean I don’t remember what happens to my other selves. You’ve seen Ajax, the poor thing. Oh, you must have seen what lurks within him. How it tears open his skin and splits his ribs apart. But oh so useful when you needed a god to die.’
‘I didn’t—that was not my intention.’
‘As I said, no hard feelings. I don’t care what exactly was going through your mind when you were stringing me along in that dream. I just want to make it clear that you don’t need to lie about wanting to see justice, you know? I’ve done far worse, I won’t judge you for being selfish.’
He heads towards his bedroom. ‘I’ve overstayed my welcome. I’m leaving tomorrow. Don’t follow me.’
‘Wait.’ For a moment I am afraid that he hasn’t heard me, with the crack in my voice that distorts the word. Then Childe turns around, face impassive. For some reason, that gives me slight relief. ‘Stay, just for one more day.’
‘Tell me what you want from me.’
‘I want to know you.’
The smile is back, though this one only twitches at the corner of his lips. ‘Nothing worth knowing. Nothing worth keeping. You already know what I am.’
He turns, then pauses. I cannot see his face from where I am standing.
‘Thank you for being—thank you for the friendship. Even if you only needed it for one thing.’ He makes a sound like a strangled chuckle. ‘I enjoyed the illusion.’
When I get up to leave, he speaks again. ‘Don’t look for me. You have what you need now.’
~~~
The concert hall is empty when I arrive. I am early, then. I set my erhu down on a bench backstage before going for a walk.
There is not much to look at here except for the seats. In an hour or two these seats will no longer be empty, full of people whispering, checking the programme, making sure their phones are turned off. And there, in the front row, will be the Qixing, judgement clutched in their white-gloves hands, the orchestra’s acknowledgement as an official organisation hanging at their fingertips.
But now, there is only me, and this empty hall.
‘Mr. Zhongli?’
I turn to see the conductor, walking down the steps of the stage. Her hair is beginning to show its natural brown at the roots, blending into a bright red. In the half-light of the afternoon, her eyes look familiar, though that could just be my overthinking things.
‘Just taking a walk,’ I say. She pauses, then smiles.
‘I was worried about you,’ she says. ‘You haven’t been right since that Snezhnayan ginger left.’
I sigh. ‘I did not think that everyone else would be so… observant.’
‘I won’t bring it up if you don’t like it,’ she says, dabbing at her forehead with a handkerchief. That looks familiar too, though I can’t say why.
‘I am just curious as to how this rumour started.’
‘Well, you say rumour, —‘ Is it that hot? She’s wiping her forehead again. ‘ —but apparently, someone saw you leaving his room the afternoon before he left. And I don’t want to make any assumptions, or intrude on your private life, but I hope everything passed eventually.’
I blink slowly. ‘Is that so… I think you will be glad to know that most assumptions from the viewing of that incident have been greatly exaggerated. We are friends, no more, no less. Still,’ I add, watching her begin to sweat profusely, ‘I appreciate your concern.’
‘Uh-huh… haha.’ Her voice trembles. ‘So, nice day for a concert, huh?’
Most of the other performers are having trouble getting here in the weather, so I cannot say I agree. One does not simply call the worst snowstorm in a decade a ‘nice day.’ Nevertheless, I nod.
‘I hope they like it, I really do,’ she says. ‘We really need the funding.’
That reminds me of something. ‘If I may be so bold as to ask,’ I say. ‘Why did you decide to start this orchestra?’
‘Oh? It wasn’t my idea, actually.’ She finds a seat next to me and sits down with a contented sigh. ‘My parents have always been nostalgic about traditional music. I think this would make them very happy.’
Yes, I remember those eyes now. ‘Do your parents come from the Jueyun region?’
‘You got it! They did. They’re proud of me, they really are, but I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out when they start talking about music. At least now I’ll have more people to help me make sense of it.’
She stretches, gets up. ‘I’ll have to make some last minute preparations. See you later.’
‘Wait.’
I had forgotten about it, tucked into my coat pocket, crumpled like a piece of cabbage. I had spent so much time transcribing it, dredging notes and dynamics from my quickly fading memory. I do not feel as if I have done it justice, but very few things can.
I pass the sheet to her, and she takes a look.
‘It’s unfinished,’ she says, frowning.
‘You can leave it as such,’ I say. ‘Or finish it however you like. I only request that it be performed in front of an audience, no matter how you choose to interpret it.’
‘It’s interesting.’ She looks over the sheet, tracing notes with a fingertip. ‘It looks like it was written for guqin, but Ganyu would know how to adapt it. Does this have a name?’
I had prepared for that question. ‘“Memory of dust”.’
‘Good name,’ she says. ‘I’ll see if it fits after today. Did you write it yourself?’
I shake my head. ‘I only transcribed it. I am afraid the original composer is no longer with us.’
She smiles, and my chest feels lighter. ‘I’m going to make this sound so good, Mr. Zhongli.’
She’s the spitting image of her father, I think as she waves goodbye, ducking behind the stage. He was one of the younger followers of Rex Lapis, and was thus spared the madness that gripped him when the god vanished not long after he joined him. Though, he was not lucky enough to be free of the curse of longevity.
Golden scales. Teeth ripping into flesh.
I shake my head free of the images and head backstage.
i can't not make them miserable.
really want to write something wholesome with them for a change but my sense of humour is unfunny discord memes so idk how well that'll turn out