I spend my time looking out his window, finding a dusty pair of binoculars in an old wardrobe. One of the lenses is shattered, so I close one eye for better focus. The snow still forms a thick layer over the rest of the land, and my thoughts drift to Xiao. He’s come a long way from eating snow in place of his rations, the impending phantom of starvation hanging low over his mind. He had not replied to my text, though the indicator shows that he’s seen it. I hope he’s recovered.
In the distance, I see smoke rise through chimneys, small dark houses covered in snow. The lens is too dusty for me to make out any of the finer details, though there is the blurry silhouette of a taller building further away. A newer addition, I suppose. I cannot see this village being the central focus of modernisation.
When the sun rises high in the sky, I tap Childe on the shoulder. He almost jumps before catching himself, rubbing his temples.
‘It’s alright,’ he says. ‘I’m awake. You don’t need to carry me again.’
He dashes out of the room and down the stairs. I follow him, unfamiliarity slowing my steps, until I almost trip over something at the bottom of the steps.
‘Hey,’ says a small voice. ‘Mister, Mr. Cyclops almost got stepped on.’
I look down. At knee-height is a boy, a winter cap placed over his bright ginger hair. Large blue eyes shine with excitement as they look me up and down, a small hand clutching a misshapen plush animal.
Ice. Frozen stars. I shake my head. ‘You must be… Teucer.’
‘Yeah! Did big brother Ajax tell you about me? Are you his friend?’
I take a moment to process his words before slowly nodding. Teucer gasps. ‘I knew it! He was just travelling!’
I nod again. The boy tucks his stuffed animal into his belt and gives me his hand.
‘You’ve met mama and papa, right? You’ve got to try her borscht, you’re never gonna want to leave after that! Or Ajax…’
He looks down at his feet, sticking out his tongue, thinking. I take his hand. ‘It is my honour to accept your help, dear knight.’
He giggles. ‘I’m not a knight! That’s Ajax. I’m just a… a… uhhh…’ He looks around, as if searching for a hint. ‘A page! But I gotta be like him eventually!’
Teucer leads me to the kitchen once more, bowing to me before he opens the door to the kitchen. A delicious smell is wafting from the pot on the stove, which Childe’s mother occasionally stirs. Childe is already standing next to her, murmuring something as she nods and drops in a leaf. His father is at the table, setting out the bowls. He nods when he catches sight of me, no sign of his earlier caution. Also at the table are two more children: the girl from earlier, who gives me a small wave, and a bespectacled boy. The boy raises his eyebrows at me, and for a moment it’s never been more obvious that they are siblings.
When the table is set, and the food arrives, I find that I cannot focus on the meal despite the tempting sights. Even as Childe sits down next to me, I cannot shake the feeling that they are staring directly at me, with different levels of judgement.
‘Don’t be scared,’ says Childe, almost making me jump. ‘They’re good kids.’
All three pairs of eyes turn immediately to him instead. Childe visibly recoils.
‘You haven’t explained yourself,’ says the girl. The bespectacled boy nods.
Teucer, still with a smile on his face, says, ‘You’ve got to tell us all your stories from your quests! It must have been a hard one, if you were gone for…’
Childe looks down from his hands resting on the table, to the empty bowl in front of me. I can almost hear his brain whirring, fueled by nothing but panic.
I clear my throat, drawing the children’s gazes. ‘Your brother is an extremely accomplished traveller, as well as an amazing knight.’
The bespectacled boy hides a snort by adjusting his glasses. I turn my attention to Teucer instead, starry-eyed as he turns his gaze to mine.
‘He came to me in Liyue,’ I say, fully aware of the way Childe’s parents are staring holes into me, ‘wishing to obtain information about a foul beast that roamed the land. The people whispered about it in the dead of night, about its stone hide, its foot-long claws and teeth, and its long, snake-like body. Some called it a dragon, but I knew its bloodthirst did not suit its beauty.’
The girl crosses her arms, head tilted. She sees through me, no doubt, but Childe’s intentions regarding his youngest brother have been made clear to me, even if he did not wish for me to know.
‘Sir,’ says Teucer. ‘Are you a knight as well?’
I look at Childe, who gives me a slight nod, the colour beginning to return to his face. I answer, ‘Well, not exactly. I helped, but I am just a funeral consultant.’
Childe hides his snort with a cough. I continue, ‘Our quest took us over a month. We would go into the woods at night, sleeping in shifts, keeping an eye out for any hide or hair of that beast. A footprint, a growl, a rustling in the trees… but it was smart, and it knew it was being hunted. Thus, it resorted to hunting the weaker residents of the city, picking them off one by one… that is, until your big brother came up with a plan.
‘He pretended to be wounded over the course of several days, walking with a limp and coughing. Knowing that he was being watched, he made me return to the city, assuring me that he could, in fact, take care of it himself. At this point, he was weakened from several sleepless nights and endless treks through the woods, and I was sure that it was the last time I would see him. However, he continued to prove me wrong.’
Teucer nods along slowly. His parents are seated at the dinner table now, his mother lifting a giant pot of soup onto the table. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Childe refuse a plate from his father.
I continue, ‘After several days, when I was sure I had to enter the woods again to retrieve him, he showed up in my office, threw two severed claws onto my table, and said, see, he’s proved me wrong. He was one of the best warriors in this world, and I could see the rest of the proof in a sack outside of my door. I… find it hard to disagree.’
I feel Childe relax, his shoulders visibly dropping. The bespectacled boy raises an eyebrow once more as the girl says, ‘But you said you were going to Fontaine. You can’t just have hunted one monster, right?’
A plate of dumplings slides into view in the middle of the table as Childe’s mother clears her throat. ‘Tonia, that can wait until after lunch.’
‘No, I want to know,’ says Tonia, tossing a braid over her shoulder and crossing her arms. ‘You don’t get to run away for one year and pretend everything’s still fine.’
I feel her gaze slide over myself.
‘Tonia… Anthon,’ says Childe, looking at the bespectacled boy. ‘I will tell you, I swear, but I cannot guarantee that it is the whole truth. To know would be to put you in danger.’
‘You’ve been saying that for years now.’ The boy, Anthon, is speaking for the first time, voice scratchy on the edge of puberty. ‘I want an answer.’
Someone clears his throat. Childe’s father adjusts his seat, side-eyeing his wife. ‘Now, children, not in front of your brother.’
Teucer looks confusedly from one person to another. Tonia holds up her hands. ‘I’m still not eating until you say something.’
‘Fine,’ says Childe, and his voice is so weak. ‘I was in Fontaine for a while, I got arrested, I escaped, and I found… a whale.’
‘A whale,’ says Anthon.
‘A beast swimming amongst the stars,’ Childe murmurs, specks of light reflecting off his eyes. ‘Hungering. Kindred spirits, it and myself… pity I had to do what I did to it.’
‘Alright,’ says Tonia. ‘If that’s what you want to end on. I don’t know why I bother with you anymore.’
‘What’s “kindred”?’ says a voice from my left. Teucer is there, having swapped seats with his father. I settle for shrugging vaguely.
The rest of the meal is spent in silence, the children too fixated on their own plates to notice Childe. He’s taken off his gloves, and the hands in his lap are clenched so tightly that half-moons form in his palms. I give him my hand and he grabs it, threading his fingers through mine like my hand is an anchor.
I eat very little, even though the food is undeniably excellent. It is difficult to eat anything with only one hand, after all. Childe’s father notices his son’s predicament, at one point reaching a hand behind Teucer’s seat before drawing it back as if shocked.
As soon as I am done with the soup, Childe tugs on my fingers. The message is clear enough. Teucer lets out a small noise of shock as we both stand up, dropping his spoon onto the ground.
‘You’re leaving?’
‘I’ll be back,’ says Childe. The lie has never been more obvious, and even Teucer notices.
‘I know—I know we’ve all been mean to you,’ says the boy. ‘But you can’t go away! When you were travel—’ He hiccups, voice becoming thick, ‘ —travelling, I… I don’t want another year without you!’
Childe seems to shrink into himself, as if the words are physically hurting him. I look at the other two siblings. Tonia meets my gaze defiantly, while Anthon fiddles with his thumbs.
Teucer sniffs, barely holding back tears. I squeeze Childe’s hands, and that gives him the courage to finally look at his brother.
‘I love you,’ says Teucer. ‘Don’t—’
He breaks down into tears. His mother rushes to comfort him, while his father stands up. His gaze finds Childe’s, and silent understanding passes between the two men.
‘I’ll come back tomorrow,’ says Childe. ‘I promise.’
He reaches out his hand, but Teucer is sobbing too hard to see. Childe looks at his father, looking more like a scared animal than anything else. The old man nods, mouthing ‘go’.
The door opens, and Childe bolts. I am about to follow when his father clears his throat, beckoning.
Under the watchful eyes of Childe’s siblings, I approach the man.
‘I have a request,’ he says.
I nod. The old man sighs, looking far older than his years.
‘Take care of my son,’ he says, voice breaking. ‘Take care of him.’
~~~
Childe finds us a room in the village inn, whose owner promises to offer a half-price discount as soon as he catches sight of Childe. Childe, in response, hands the man an entire stack of bills, leaving him to stutter as he attempts to count the money.
Night falls early here, and Childe takes advantage of the last minutes of light to accompany me on a walk through the village. Freshly swept snow reveals flagstones underneath our feet, relics of a time from when automobiles were nonexistent. Most of the houses, scattered a good distance away from the main road, share the same design and make as Childe’s family home, though some are beginning to take on steel and stone for their exoskeletons. Most of the shops are just now closing down, and Childe only has time to get me a knitted hat before the shopkeeper, an old lady with cataracts, scowls at him and all but shoves us out of the warmth of her shop.
‘You keep getting snowflakes in your hair,’ says Childe as I struggle to keep up, trying to fasten the hat over my head. ‘Can’t be pleasant. Oh, here it is.’
In front of us is a monument, located in the middle of what I presume is the village square. What it is supposed to depict is lost on me, mostly due to the fact that all that remains of it is a pair of granite-carved heels, stuck firmly to the pedestal.
‘That’s supposed to be either Her Majesty the Tsaritsa. Or the Balemoon. I don’t remember which one of them our village owes a debt to. But I definitely owe a debt to this old thing.’
‘Don’t leave me hanging on that note.’
‘You tell me. The father of one of the kids I beat up—don’t look so surprised, you know I’d do anything for my brother—pulled a shotgun on me after I broke most of his son’s bones. If not for this thing, I probably wouldn’t have been able to dodge the shot.’
He tilts his head back, as if deep in thought. I take the opportunity to study the statue more closely. The Tsaritsa and I may have met only once, but I do not remember her having a penchant for such fancy shoes. This must be the other one, then. It strikes me that this is the first time I’ve heard Childe mention one of his colleagues by name.
The snow is beginning to fall again, accompanying the deep blue of the sky. Still, Childe does not move, too deep in thought to notice the cold. Or perhaps he does not have the ability to do so.
‘I’m going back,’ I say to him. He nods absent-mindedly, muttering something about locking the door behind me.
I leave him to his thoughts and delve deep into my own.
~~~
I cannot entirely blame Childe for waking me up. Truth be told, it was bound to happen anyway: the swirling mess of thoughts in my mind, sharp pangs of guilt and helplessness and something else entirely undefinable, they never would have left me alone even in my dreams.
When I wake up it is to the sound of wind blowing through the narrow window, and a warm weight on my chest. Sharp teeth find my earlobe, grazing it gently, threatening to draw blood if I move.
Somehow I find my voice. ‘What is it?’
‘Take me to the ocean.’ I feel, rather than bear the words. ‘I’m starving.’
With that he clambers off, crawling to the furthest corner of the room. From where I am I can hear his laboured breathing, the pain of lungs about to collapse.
He lets me carry him, like on the day we departed from Liyue. No one sees us leave through the front door, sheltering from the winter winds that are beginning to pick up. The little snow on the main path does little to impede me, and I fight against the exhaustion building in my bones, single-minded focus taking over. The docks should be due north, I recall.
The light of the moon is kind to us tonight.
I have my coat to keep out the worst of the cold, but he is dressed in loose-fitting clothes, the hem of his shirt flying upwards when I run too fast. He throws his arms around my neck when I look at him, crushing himself against me.
And in the distance, salvation. The moon-illuminated docks are at the very end of our path. I head to the side of the wooden structure, finding a slope that leads down to the sea. In warmer weather, this could have been a beach.
‘Let me go,’ he mutters in my ear. I oblige, and he half runs, half stumbles to the dark waves lapping at the shore.
His fumbling fingers find the buttons of his shirt, and he begins to unfasten them. I look away then, a movement that he notices.
‘Come on, you can look. I don’t mind.’
I chance a glance at him. The skin on his shoulders and back appears unnaturally pale in the moonlight, as if it had been kept away from the sun. Scars run across it like cracks, a web of silvery markings and deep gouges mapping his back. Porcelain, the thought comes unbidden. Cracked porcelain.
I look away again when he reaches for the fastenings of his pants, my throat suddenly dry.
I hear a small splash, and a groan of relief. ‘Come here,’ he says, the wind carrying the sound.
I do so, stopping at the very edge of the water. He sits cross-legged in the shallows, water droplets rolling off scarred shoulders to rejoin the ocean. An angry, red network spreads throughout his chest from his sternum. He notices me looking and uncrosses his arms, allowing for a better view.
‘I used to dream of letting you touch them,’ he says. ‘Kissing them, even, threatening to devour me—I was delusional then and I am delusional now. I’d try to imagine you ripping me apart with your teeth, but that just made the desire stronger.’
‘That is what I do not understand about you.’
‘Hmm?’
‘Why fly into an open flame? Why do you love your self-destruction so?’
‘Destruction? You’re assuming there’s anything left to destroy.’ He draws his knees up to his chest. ‘There is nothing of me I can lose now, not even the skin of the boy who drowned.’
‘Your family—‘
‘You don’t get to bring them up.’
I take a small step backwards, hands held up. He continues, ‘Skin under skin under skin, and everyone is none the wiser. I’m doing them—you—a favour, Zhongli. This is all I am now.’
I stand there in silence, watching the waves lap at my shoes. He watches me too, cupping his chin with a hand, eyes glittering.
‘You’re not going to tell me otherwise?’
I look at him, dumbfounded, but find myself nodding anyway. He smiles.
‘You have your sights set on this path,’ I say to him. ‘I cannot convince you to abandon it, not at this point.’
‘Ah, Zhongli. You don’t know how to love.’
I grit my teeth. ‘I thought you would be above hypocrisy.’
‘You think too highly of me. They didn’t understand, —‘ He nods in the direction of his home, ‘ —but they tried to stop me. Reel me back into what they thought was the light. You, however. You only know how to collect. Watch me fly into the fire, then pick up the ashes and tell yourself you loved me because you put them in a jar. That’s what you did with her, didn’t you?’
‘You don’t get to—‘
‘It’s okay.’ His voice softens. ‘That’s what I love most about you. You’re—you’re not suffocating.’
The resulting silence is heavy, too heavy to break. I watch him lie down in the shallows, the waves blanketing his body. He places his arms over his stomach.
‘Hey,’ he says. ‘You know how to fight, right?’
Rex Lapis did, though I am not sure how well that translates. When I tell him, he shrugs.
‘Tell me when you figure it out. I need an actual fight.’
Gluttonous, I think. Whatever he hosts gets hungrier every time he feeds it. I turn back to him, the offer for a morning jog instead on the tip of my tongue, but he is already standing up, reaching for his clothes left on the edge of the docks. I look away again before I can see anything more than long, muscular legs.
‘You can go ahead of me,’ he says, buttoning up his shirt. ‘I’m strong enough now.’
This time, I opt to stay.
passed my driving test today. i'm da king of the highway