#Muse: Decarabian

[diverse-hearts-ocs]

@lachrymosestorm asked for a Starter

"If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that you were out here looking for trouble", it's just a comment made as he finishes off his first drink of the evening, glancing towards the mortal that sat by his side, a small nod of his head given towards the man that had just walked away, "Pretty sure everyones aware of the type of man that one is...do you really think that lowly of yourself?".

[starlitwishes]

@melodicbreeze

"Oh, but of course you would like this... Really, sprite, giving me some mixed signals here. Still the answer is the same--flattered, but not interested."

Right back at this, are we?

[protect-namine]

do you think we'll uncover the story behind the first picture before we do the second

[romaritimeharbor]

new genshin oc will drop later today 🤭

[carmendeiact2whenplz]

🔮 Fate and nb!

(For context, assume wispti and nb became friends before meeting the other rebellion members, this takes place prior to nb starting and/or joining the rebellion)

Lately, he’s been having some strange dreams. Various people, they sometimes repeated though many times they were different. Somehow, the ones that appeared more than once stuck out to him the most- a tall woman with hair the color of snow who’s gaze was as sharp as the arrow lodged in her bow, and a man of similar height with hair like blood and a weapon that seemed all too eager to spill it. A figure clad in armor with blond hair peeking out of the helmet, who looked intimidating and yet the bard felt at ease whenever they appeared. A humanoid entity enrobed in shadows and swirling mist, the bard couldn’t make out any of its features but he knew for sure whatever or whoever it was could kill him in an instant. Most frequently of all, a person with long flowing robes and blindingly white wings of the same color- everything above their neck was obscured but he was sure if he could see the full thing he knew their face would have been beautiful.

There weren’t just people though, but various scenes, sometimes bustling with people, other times devoid of life- A tree next to a small pond, the top of a burning building, a market square, an empty void, a sea of endless flowers, a small cathedral with too much light filtering through the stained glass, a room lined with maps of the same place and weapons hanging on the walls, a pale pink and blue tree that seemed taller than Decarabian’s tower, a dark blue sky with twin shooting stars streaking through.

The bard wasn’t quite sure if it had anything to do with his dear friend’s occasional musings about his relation some kind of goddess, and the bard’s close proximity to the wisp at all times, though he had a theory that they were visions of the future- who’s future exactly he couldn’t say. He had no way of telling what was “good” and what was “bad”, if they were all fated events or could easily be willed into never happening. Of course it was only a theory and he had no way of telling anything for sure, all he could do was wait and see.

[chrysoula]

seals and wars

This is a bunch of musing I've been doing in the wake of 4.2AQ that I'm just dumping here. First, a brief history: Start with a 40 year war of subjugation (started by the Primordial One), ending in a covenant that allowed elemental life to continue to exist, and even thrive, at certain costs (maybe: Visions, an empowered Primordial governor). Humanity was unpacked and managed via the Seelie. But a rebellious conquered people sought for aid from afar, and brought in the Second Who Came. Eventually, the Second Who Came switched sides, and they sealed the Dragon King away. (I think somehow the Second Who Came ended up making the gods.) After this, Celestia makes them fight the Archon War for their promised 7 seats in Celestia, and just to make it fair (an actual threat), loyal elemental life was permitted to enter the contest. And that's the Archon War for you. (I think Egeria's people-creating privileges were revoked to stop Neuvillette from being born. Oopsie.)

Next: Khaenri'ah. The wrath of the dragon king infects the Eclipse Dynasty. An apocalyptic war results. The divine nature of the Third is harvested/sacrificed to make the Gnoses, which form yet another seal over the Dragon King. The world recovers. Remnants of the Third are left to wander around. The dragon king, who will not accept a world shared with the invader's spawn at any cost, still has hooks in the Abyss Order. He's the sinner and he's temptation. He's bad. All Khaenri'ah wanted was seats at the table, but that got warped until the worst of all wars happened. I'm pretty sure Teyvat can't handle another one. There are missing pieces here. Even if you can't see them, they're there. I'm going to represent the missing links with a random set of letters. Say, ISTAROTH. There's nothing actually there to see. They're just a placeholder for the truth we don't know. A marker for absence. You know, in most of the nations we've travelled through, we've encountered cults to dead gods. Havria, Orobashi, Deshret, Egeria... They're all over, these people who still tend shrines for gods who died centuries or millennia ago. That's not too much of a shocker, really. There's something about a dead god that you really feel you can connect to. A living god, well, they have a life, they're busy, they don't have time for you and your concerns, but a dead god can be a small, still voice in your soul (and they definitely understand suffering). Hey, where have I heard rhetoric like that in Genshin? Hello, Mondstadt, where you have the Absent God and an extremely traditional church that venerates him, as well as many references to "time and wind".

Decarabian doesn't have that. (tho ask me sometime about the storm watchers and their vigil).

Istaroth doesn't have that. Or.... does she? I've been wondering for a while if Istaroth was erased from Irminsul, and why we've still heard her. Are there ways to preserve history, in fables and songs, greetings and farewells, in traditions carved into stone? Is there a way to worship an absence? In fact. we know hints can be preserved and decoded. Consider this. What if truths you understand completely on your own can't be erased from Irminsul? And the only way to pass on certain knowledge is with quests, and puzzles, and curious absences? The stories that nobody tells you are the ones you can't forget. At least not completely. When Venti came back to Mondstadt, he was attacked by an Eye of the Storm. You know, those shields of wind around a vaccuum, that famously drop nothing when defeated? An absence again.

I can only conclude that Venti is protecting the remains of ISTAROTH (which might or might not be "Istaroth") in a giant vault below Church of Favonius. (The idea that Venti might be entrapping something is ludicrous, and hiding somebody else's worshippers as his church would make him laugh.) Although, you know. There's a lot of seals around Stormterror's Lair, and Venti got us to unseal each and every one of them. Right after that, the Tsarita started collecting Gnoses. I wondered what had triggered that. But if she's planning to unseal something, maybe she was waiting for a signal... ISTAROTH, huh?

[godoflazziness]

"" *is someone muse cares about* Who are you to judge me!? You always do/used to do this! ""

his eyes softening and eyebrows narrowing in worry. he knew that he had been not too present in the history of Monstadt- not since Decarabian or Durin yet somehow their people still looked up to him. worshipped and adored him. Barbatos knew that he did not deserve such high opinion from the church of Favnious and thus the reaction from Kaeya came to no surprise.

“ and have you seen how my life is going?” he lightheartedly yet seriously retorted in reply. despite how much he told people that his life was going great.. it was far from true. Venti was depressed and an heavy alcoholic. only recently started on rehab yet still often slipped back into old habits. “ I know you wish to merely drink away your sorrows. “ his eyes lingered up at the taller male.

“ trust me! that is all I ever wanted to do. ” for once in his pathetic life, Venti will do this one thing for one of his people. he could see the path that Kaeya was going down.

while normally he allowed the citizens of Monstadt to crave their path- he knew this was one path that no one should take.

“ it comes at a cost. you fall asleep and the next thing you know.. the people you care about are dead, the remaining friends you had leave you and.. “ the anemo archon fell silent in his rambles and quickly looked away from the Calvary Captain as teal green eyes started to water. what a joke.. he was not only the weakest but the most useless archon.

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

[Muse Active] Dvalin

THIS MUSE IS NOW ACTIVE FOR ROLEPLAY ON THIS BLOG!

Name: Dvalin

Species, World, Nationality: Elemental Dragon, inhabitant of Teyvat, from Mondstadt

Date of Birth: Unknown

Roleplaying Age: 2000+yo (default verse), other if specified.

Headcanons: Here.

-

Fandom: Genshin Impact (by miHoYo)

Fandom Genre: RPG, fantasy, adventure.

Open for AU / “What If”s: Yes.

Wiki Link: Here.

Covered Sources: Manga, Game (Up to Chapter 1)

-

Available for ships: Selective (platonic only, same species)

With Canon Characters (CC);

With Original Characters (OC);

With Cross-over Characters;

With Same-Muse Characters.

Canon Verses:

Pre-Genshin Impact: Some time before the Traveler's arrival in Mondstadt, Dvalin awoke and returned to Mondstadt, only to be greeted by fear and scorn from the humans of this era, who had forgotten about him and his identity as one of the Four Winds. Angry and hurt, both from the rejection and the lingering pain from the poisoned blood clots on his back, Dvalin was easily swayed by the Abyss Order into rescinding his title as Dragon of the East and attacking the city. This earned him the name Stormterror, and Decarabian's city — which he had taken up as his residence — came to be known as Stormterror's Lair.

(Default) Post-Prologue: After Dvalin is rescued by the "Dvalin Protection Squad," a more friendly side surfaces once Venti reassures the dragon that there is no danger of being attacked. Dvalin initially felt confused as to what freedom truly was, but after Venti's explanation he felt connected and whole again before flying off into the unknown.

AUs:

TBA

Writing Sample:

The scent of the wind; how he'd missed it. It was no longer tainted with the lingering stench of his own blood and poison.

But this scent was so different from what he once knew. As was the land flowing underneath the powerful beat of his wings. Green pastures, trees in bloom as far as the eye could see. The landscape of snow and cold winds he used to call home seemed to be long gone.

Except at one place. In the vast landmass of Mondstadt, only a distant corner remained the way the dragon always remembered. The lone, tall mountain that had become Durin's tomb. Whenever Dvalin's eyes set in its direction, his heart ached in mourning of the past that had forsaken him. His sacrifice, had it been for naught?

He was no longer bound by duty here. He could fly high, and travel far. And see with his eyes this vast world... to find where its worth lied, so that he, too, may belong again.

Find my rules on my blog HERE.

[melodicbreeze]

💬 - Pick a muse, any muse!

Send Me 💬 + a Name and My Muse will Talk About That Person

"Mm, I wonder... Decarabian seems to becoming more and more a part of the Mondstadt scene these days."

"Perhaps I should probably introduce him and Dvalin... it would be for the best to explain and possibly mediate, after all. I'm not sure what Dvalin might think happened, if he senses his presence before then."

[musamora]

muse's index ─ [✶] content warning, [⟡] headcanons, [☆] reader's favorites

★ — VENTI THE BARD

⤷ ❛ lost cecilia ❜ — fic: 3.4k words + sfw — you were kidnapped by the abyss order for answers about your beloved archon, to whom you’ve devoted your very soul. blood pumps through your body like a raging river as your every last will begs you to not give in to the temptation of releasing a slew of secrets from your lips.

⤷ ❛ windblume festival ❜ — fic: 2.4k words + sfw — the light of dusk descended down upon the town of mondstadt as it started to wrap up its beloved windblume festival. your heart leaped in your chest as you were chosen as the windblume star—offering windblumes to the archon of freedom. who is the god truly, underneath the façade of music and sonnets.

⤷ ❛ jubilation in devotion ❜ [✶] — fic: 3.8k words + [n]sfw — it hadn’t been the best week; feeling as if you hadn’t worked to your truest potential as you compared yourself to those around you. you wander off towards the beautiful ruins of the decarabian’s tower, which was now empty due to the absence of dvalin. in the midst of your thoughts, the wind archon hears the cries of internal resentment and is determined to show you that you are more than worthy of the title of the bride of an ancient god.

⤷ ❛ fluff alphabet ❜ [⟡] — fic: 2.7k words + sfw

⤷ ❛ slip of the hand ❜ — fic: 1.8k words + sfw — making different cuisines from multiple different places is usually such a fun and invigorating experience, filled with joy as you laugh with your cooking partner. it isn’t as fun if you’re injured along the way.

⤷ ❛ the places you fxck ❜ [✶] — drabble + [n]sfw

⤷ ❛ caught ❜ [✶] — fic: 2.6k words + [n]sfw — the cool winter breeze blows through the windows of the dorm’s living room, and venti is just returning from a night of “studying.” with a slight shuffle, mostly sober, though with the slight buzz of alcohol in his system, he looks around his apartment, hearing a strange noise coming from one of the rooms.

⤷ ❛ protective hc's ❜ [⟡] — drabble + sfw

⤷ ❛ the sun kisses your face ❜ — fic: 5.1k words + sfw — rewritten version of lost cecilia.

★ — SCARAMOUCHE

⤷ ❛ good little girl: part one ❜ [✶] — drabble + [n]sfw

⤷ ❛ good little girl: part two ❜ [✶] — drabble + [n]sfw

★ — VARIOUS

⤷ ❛ don't wanna be your friend, wanna kiss your lips! ❜ [✶⟡] — drabble + [n]sfw — [featured: lumine, signora, arlecchino]

© MUSAMORA 2024 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[loyally-unyielding]

tag dump ; Genshin Impact

mm/ GI Aether

mm / GI Aether | Visage

mm / GI Aether | Musings

mm / GI Childe 

mm / GI Childe | Visage

mm / GI Childe | Musings

mm / GI Gorou

mm / GI Gorou | Visage

mm / GI Gorou | Musings

mm / GI Thoma

mm / GI Thoma | Visage

mm / GI Thoma | Musings

mm / GI Heizou

mm / GI Heizou | Visage

mm / GI  Heizou | Musings

mm / GI Zhongli

mm / GI Zhongli | Visage

mm / GI Zhongli | Musings

mm/ GI Bosaicus 

mm / GI Bosacius | Visage

mm / GI Bosacius | Musings

mm / GI Lei Feng || Electro Yaksha

mm / GI Decarabian

mm / GI Decarabian | Visage

mm / GI Decarabian | Musings

mm / GI Diluc

mm / GI Diluc | Visage

mm / GI Diluc | Msuings

mm / GI Xiao

mm / GI Xiao | Visage

mm / GI Xiao | Musings

mm / GI Venti

mm / GI Venti | Visage

mm / GI Venti | Musings

mm / GI Tighnari

mm / GI Tighnari | Visage

mm / GI Tighnari | Musings

mm / GI Dottore 

mm / GI Dottore | Visage

mm / GI Dottore | Musings

mm / GI Capitano

mm / GI Capitano | Visage

mm / GI Capitano | Musings

[diverse-hearts-ocs]

Small starter call for the four featured muses of the week -  Garth, Amadeus,  Decarabian and Victoria!  If there’s a certain verse you’re after just let me know or I’ll default to whatever I’m feeling lols <3

[starlitwishes]

@melodicbreeze

“… Are you implying that there is someone out there who also finds me attractive? I thought it was you just messing around this whole time…”

He’s truly baffled as well!

[tsuntsunfangirl]

Me to the old muse: *bows with hand on her heart* i thank you for your service--

Also me to the old muse: AND STOP TERRORIZING ME. YOUR REIGN IS DONE.

[fabletold-a]

[ puts my mouth directly onto the microphone ] so letter threads are cool, huh

[abyssruler]

archons ft. reincarnation

venti, zhongli, raiden ei x gn!reader

summary: you were dead—until you appeared again hundreds of years later, that same smile on your lips that made them fall for you centuries ago.

word count: 4.6k

note: first time posting my work on tumblr!

warning/s: spoilers for venti’s story quest and raiden shogun’s story quest act i & ii, angst, brief descriptions of past character death (reader)

part 2

VENTI

Venti’s fingers glide through the strings of his lyre, the perpetually gloomy weather exacerbating the melancholic undertone of his song.

“The outside world…” you muse, sitting beside your bard of a friend, watching the towering castle in the distance where your possessive god resides. “I wonder what it’s like.”

Small, melodic bells chime from your shoulder. You turn your head in order to face the wind spirit you call a friend. His little face is scrunched up, as if he’s regaling you tales of the scenery beyond Mondstadt. You don’t understand him, none of you do, but you indulge him with a smile anyway.

“Mhm. Oh, is that so? Yeah, I think so too. That seems lovely!” He bobs his head in agreement with your words, and you laugh at the adorable sight. You return your gaze to the castle by the distance, a wistful look in your eyes. “I’d like to see it one day. I bet the sky is so blue and the lands stretch on for miles and miles until you lose sight of the other end. The weather would be warmer too, because the sun would always be out.”

The little wind sprite lets out a tinkling sound. You don’t know what he’s trying to tell you, but you pretend that you do.

“Yeah. I wonder if the grass is greener outside of Mondstadt. It must be. There wouldn’t be constant rain over there so the plants won’t always be so damp and mushy. The sky must be full of birds, all of them just flying freely without a care in the world.”

Your bard of a friend listens quietly to your musings, now playing a softer song with his lyre. In contrast, your little spirit friend circles around your head, chiming something and pointing to the castle in the distance with his little hood.

For once, you think you understand what he’s trying to say. “Lord Decarabian, huh?” Something in you brews uncomfortably as you mention your god, so you try to lighten the atmosphere, “I don’t think he’ll agree even if we ask very nicely.”

Your little friend lets out a series of bell chimes that somehow lets you know what he thinks about your little joke. It’s only when Venti suddenly stops playing his lyre that the wind spirit quiets down.

You turn to him questioningly, finding him already looking at you with those blue eyes of his, always so bright despite being born in a perpetually gloomy city. There’s a contemplative frown on his face as he moves his gaze from you, to your little friend, to the castle in the center of the city.

Finally, he opens his mouth.

“Then let’s not ask,” he says, his eyes fixed on the looming castle. “He keeps his people in this city and forces us to call it freedom, but what is freedom if demanded of you by a god?”

“Venti…” you say in warning. Somehow, you get the feeling you’re not going to like what he’s about to say.

Somehow, you get the feeling you’re going to agree anyway.

He smiles at you and the wind sprite you call a friend, bright and optimistic. “I want to see the outside world too, so let’s fight to see it. Together.”

“Together,” you repeat, looking at him and your little friend. “A bard, a warrior, and a wind sprite. Sounds like the beginning of a long tale.” You gaze at the castle in the distance once more. “I wonder how it will end.”

Venti laughs. “It’ll be a happy ending. I’ll make sure of it.”

Bell chimes ring in the air as the small wind sprite circles the air in front of you, exclaiming his agreement to Venti’s words.

A thought occurs to you.

“Well, a tale isn’t complete if one of the main characters is nameless,” you say, offering your palm for him to rest in. Your little friend hops into it, sighing little happy bells.

A name. What name would suit him, you wonder. Looking up at the sky above, nothing sparks any inspiration. There’s only dark clouds holding the threat of rain. If you look closely enough, you think you can peek through those clouds and see something resembling the blue sky of the world outside. Wishful thinking, of course, the clouds in Mondstadt are thick enough to cover miles in the sky.

But if you squint an eye and tilt your head to the left, you think you can see a hint of a silhouette, something floating far above—

Then you avert your gaze back to your friend resting in the palm of your hands. A gust of wind blows past you. Maybe it’s premonition, or maybe you just wanted the best for him, but in that moment, you imagine that out of the three of you, it is this little spirit in your hands who will achieve the greatest of things.

A name pops up in your mind and begins to take root. “What do you think of the name Barbatos?”

He immediately zips up, twirling in the air in front of you and nuzzling your cheek affectionately. And just like that, the moment is broken, and he is back to being just your little friend.

“You like it, huh?” His answer comes in the form of a series of tinkling bells. You smile. “It’s a pretty name, isn’t it?”

✧

Two thousand and six hundred years later, the wind spirit turned archon stands on a raised platform, a lyre in hand and performing a song he hasn’t sung in five hundred years.

A bell chimes, signifying an entry to the door of the tavern, such an innocuous sound for the impending tragedy he is about to relive.

The last chord is strung. The crowd claps, disperses and thins. A lone figure makes their way to the front.

Someone clears their throat.

He looks up.

And suddenly he is back to that day millennia ago, just a little wind sprite tinkling bells in the palm of your hand. An apple for breakfast, lunch and dinner, your teasing remarks about how he isn’t going to be able to fly anymore if he keeps gaining weight. The song of the friend he embodies resonating with his soul.

How simple life had been, back when dreams of revolution and gods were just that: dreams.

Hushed talks of freedom between each round of song, the wistful look on your face as you mused how vast the outside world must be. Full of plains and lush grass, you imagined. And when Barbatos left the ruins of Old Mondstadt, one third of a whole, he made your dreams come true as he flattened mountains and brought warm winds to fend away the cold.

He only wished all three of you had been there to see it, instead of just him alone.

“What a lovely song! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you perform here in Angel’s Share before. What’s your name?” You smile at him, all soft and lovely with a hint of nostalgia in the corner of your eyes. As beautiful as the day he lost you.

He never realized how much he’d started to forget what you looked like until you appeared right in front of him, a ghost from two thousand years past.

Do you remember him? Do you miss him as much as he’s missed you? Will you forgive him for not letting go of the past, for taking on the appearance of your beloved friend? Have you been well? Do you have many friends? Any family?

Is there someone you hold dear to your heart already, someone who holds you close, who would never let you fight alone. Someone who won’t kneel helplessly as you died in their arms, smiling amidst the numbing pain from the gaping wound in your chest. Have you already found someone who will protect and care for you, because if not, then—

In this life, will you finally love him the way he loves you?

What’s your name?

His name, the name you gave him, is on the tip of his tongue. Barbatos, it’s a pretty name, isn’t it? And he was never able to tell you how much he agreed with you, how much he loved the name you gave him. He wants to tell you how he’s made Barbatos more than just a little wind spirit, wants to ask if you’re proud of him for achieving the freedom you once sought for—but most of all, he wants to tell you how much he loves you for giving him his name, his identity.

When the drinks become too much and his mind muddles the distinction between himself and his friend—is he Venti, or is it someone else?—he tries to remember you and the way his name rolled off your tongue. Barbatos. On his worst days, when everything becomes too much, when he tries to remember the way your voice sounded only to realize that he’s starting to forget, he says it to himself.

Barbatos.

Barbatos.

Barbatos.

It’s a pretty name, isn’t it?

And he smiles to himself and says yes out loud, and the other patrons will think he’s had too much to drink again, and he’ll shrug off their judging gazes and ignore the bartender’s disapproving look because finally, he remembers what you once sounded like as you spoke his name.

He wants to tell you how much you’ve done for him, even if you weren’t here with him.

But he bites back his tongue and puts on a well practiced smile, ignoring the twinge in his heart at the lack of recognition in your eyes.

“The name’s—” Barbatos “—Venti! And who might you be, oh beautiful stranger?”

The sound of your laughter soothes two thousand and six hundred years worth of pain within the span of a few seconds. He keeps the memory of it locked in his chest. It is ridiculous, the ease with which you burrow yourself back into his heart with just a laugh—though in hindsight, perhaps it isn’t so ridiculous after all. You never really left his heart even after thousands of years.

As your name falls from your lips, Venti decides it’s alright if you don’t remember him, that it’s alright if the name you call him now isn’t the name you gave him long ago.

Just being able to see you again is enough.

ZHONGLI

“I am thinking of retiring.”

You lean your elbows on the wooden railings, resting your face in the palm of your hands as you looked up at him. “Retiring? I don’t think Hu Tao would approve.”

“No, no,” he clarifies, “Not in Wangsheng Funeral. I have…another job that I wish to retire from.”

“You have two jobs, Zhongli? Never would have guessed with how relaxed you always are.” He cracks a faint smile at that.

“My other job is not very demanding of my time. Nevertheless, it holds an important role in Liyue.” The wind blows against him, his hair billowing in the breeze as he stood above the harbor. Somehow, you imagine him in white, a hood pulled over his head and a spear in his hand as he gazed down an imaginary foe in the sea.

The image leaves a strange feeling in you, so you quickly shake it away from your thoughts and focus on his earlier words.

“Are you some kind of big shot? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?! Here I was talking to you so casually—” Your eyes widen in realization. “Ah! You were undercover this whole time, weren’t you? Are you gonna report me to the Tianquan for disrespect—” You’re interrupted by the sound of Zhongli’s soft laughter.

He gazes at you with such soft amber eyes you’re almost half-inclined to believe it’s the sun playing tricks on you.

How mesmerizing. How familiar. You think you’ve seen this sight before, you just can’t put a finger when.

“My work is not that kind of work. It is…complicated, to say the least. You need not worry about any perceived disrespect, I don’t mind at all.”

Your shoulders slump in relief. “Oh, thank Rex Lapis. I thought I was about to face the wrath of the rock or something.”

He stills, hands clenching against the railings for the briefest of moments before relaxing. It goes unnoticed by you. “Wrath of the rock… I don’t believe I have spoken such words in your presence before.”

“Really?” You turn to him with furrowed brows. Now that you think about it, you don’t think he’s ever said that phrase before. How strange, where did it come from then? “Must’ve been something I read somewhere. You talk like an old man so much, Zhongli, I’m starting to confuse words from old books with your ramblings.”

Looking away, he stares past the railings and into the harbor below, something almost melancholic in his eyes. “Perhaps.”

“So,” you say to distract him from whatever caused that look to form in his eyes, “Are you really retiring?”

He looks at you, still with those sad, sad eyes that makes something in you churn uncomfortably. So you place a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the way his eyes widen at the gesture, and you give him the brightest smile you can muster.

“Well, whatever you choose to do, I’ll support you all the way!” And maybe your words got through to him, or maybe he saw something in your smile, but Zhongli chuckles, deep and rumbling. You once said it sounded like a dragon’s, and his face twisted into something you couldn’t quite read.

“Ever the optimist,” he tells you, fondness replacing that melancholic look in his eyes. “It is one of the many aspects that I admire about you.”

Your face heats up. Looking away from that affectionate look, you attempt to make light of his words. “H-Ha! Don’t go falling for me now, Zhongli. I’ll break your heart if you do!”

(You already have, Zhongli thinks, his heart beating a painful yet nostalgic tune in his chest.)

He waves your words away.

“Of course, such is to be expected of you,” he says idly, almost cryptically. You’re tempted to ask what that means, but he has the frustrating habit of pretending to be oblivious when he doesn’t want to answer a question, even though you can totally see through the act.

“Now back to the original topic!” You’re back to leaning your arms against the railings. Zhongli follows your actions by resting his gloved hands on the polished wood. “So, retirement, huh?”

He hums. “I was uncertain this morning, but our conversation has been quite enlightening. I have you to thank for solidifying my decision.” You watch him look over Liyue’s harbor, at the people down by the docks all working together like pieces in a cog. There’s something like pride in Zhongli’s eyes as he stares at the people. “Liyue is in good hands, is it not?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right. Lady Nigguang’s a real scary one, but she’s the best at her job. The Yuheng can afford to take a break now and then, but Keqing’s great at whatever she puts her mind in. Captain Beidou’s not exactly a government official, but she’s a known figure of the people, and she’s got a real good head on her shoulders—not to mention, real fun to hang out with!” You snicker at the memory of getting into a drinking contest with her. You lost, obviously, but the experience was worth it.

It’s then that you realize you haven’t mentioned the most important person in all of Liyue.

“And Rex Lapis…” Zhongli seems to straighten at the mention of your archon. “He only comes down to Liyue once a year now in the past few centuries. Well, that’s to be expected since Liyue’s at peace now. I guess even gods need to rest every now and then.”

(Something in his chest twists at your words.)

“Yes, they do, don’t they?” he agrees, his voice solemn.

You nod. “He’s probably over in Celestia partying with the other gods. You think he’s shacking it up with his partner up there? Heh, at least one of us is getting some.”

The reaction you receive is unexpected, but pleasantly surprising nonetheless.

Zhongli lets out a full blown laugh, head tilted back and shoulders shaking, eyes closed with mirth. You stare with your jaw open, unable to take your eyes off him even as his laughter begins to die down. It looks just like—

A man in white robes, veins of gold running down his arms as he held his stomach. His head tilted back, the ground shaking with the force of his laughter, his hood falling down to reveal familiar amber eyes gazing at you with mirth, fondness lurking beneath his smile—

“Ah, I truly have missed this.” Missed you, he doesn’t say, but you hear it all the same.

You decide that critical thinking really isn’t for you, so you brush away the strange not-memory and the feelings that rise up when he looks at you like that.

Teasingly, you grin at him. “Aw, Zhongli, it was only a week yet you missed me that much? Don’t worry, I missed you too.”

The quirk in his lips seems to tell you that he expected such an answer from you.

He then turns his head up, gazing into the mid-afternoon sky, your teasing forgotten.

“Once I retire, allow me to invite you for an afternoon of drinking osmanthus wine. I recently discovered a merchant selling top quality wine, and once i acquired a taste, it truly was—as per the merchant’s words—as if you have been taken back to a thousand years ago.”

There’s a quip waiting to to be said at the tip of your tongue, a joke at how he’s secretly been an old grandpa this entire time, but you swallow back the urge to let out the lighthearted joke.

There’s a fragility to this moment that you can’t quite put a finger on, so you hold back your usual retort and mull over your decision.

“I’d like that,” you say after a few heartbeats.

Zhongli smiles, and this time it’s less delicate, more sure of himself.

“I look forward to it.”

✧

You nearly barf once the liquid enters your mouth. All those drinking contests with Beidou has made your stomach weak. But the sight of Zhongli serenely sipping his own osmanthus wine reminds you to have enough tact not to mention how bad it tastes for you.

To delay your second sip, you decide to ask, “How is it?”

Zhongli places his cup down, the procelain making a soft noise as it meets the saucer. He then looks up, sees you holding your own cup of osmanthus wine and trying not to look constipated at the taste, and he smiles at the familiar sight.

“It tastes the same as I remember.”

EI

“Oh my, Your Eternal Excellency! It’s an honor to have your most exalted presence in the Yae Publishing House!”

Her entire world stops, suspended in a haze, narrowing down to this little booth in a random street in the city of Inazuma. Time stretches on for eternity, while the god chasing it is stuck staring at the sight of a familiar, beautiful, ephemeral mirage.

There’s a friendly smile on your lips, not a hint of nervousness at being in the presence of a god such as herself. You’ve always been so fearless. Brave and courageous and stupid and self-sacrificing. Ei loved and hated that attribute of yours, back when she was still capable of loving someone without ruining them.

“Ei? Are you alright?”

For a moment, she lets herself believe it was your voice that spoke those words to her. Soft, soothing tones that once lulled her to rest after a day of training non-stop to improve her martial skills, back when a kagemusha like her was still granted the luxury of rest.

Sleep, Ei. Even gods need some shut eye.

But this is one of the many flaws of ephemerality—the moment for engaging in selfish delusions ends far too soon.

It takes all of her willpower to tear her gaze from you in order to face the Traveler.

“Yes, just a little surprised.” Years and years of experience has taught her to control her voice. It will not waver, not even in the presence of her once-dead lover.

“You sure? You kinda spaced out for a while back there,” the floating pixie who calls herself Paimon remarks.

“Yes, I am quite fine,” she says.

Although, is she truly? Perhaps not, but five hundred years of solitude has hardened her. Had this been before, perhaps she would have wept upon seeing you again, alive and whole and not painting the grass with a pool of your own blood.

Ei directs her attention to the Traveler. “Now, what were you saying about those light novels?”

For the rest of her time in the Yae Publishing House, she spends it dutifully avoiding your curious gaze. Even going so far as to wait by the railings as the Traveler picked a light novel for her to read.

She heard you speak to the Traveler once, making a suggestion regarding the selection.

“I think she’ll like this one!”

You were right, she did like it.

✧

Ei tries not to, but every time she ventures out of Tenshukaku to see more of her people, she passes by the Yae Publishing House that you, more often than not, watch over.

✧

The leylines near the roots of the Sacred Sakura Tree are being strange.

Walking with the Traveler after the disappearance of Furuyama, the blind tea-brewer, is solemn. The path they’re traversing in is painfully familiar. She tries not to remember what the scenery would have looked like five hundred years ago.

A twig snaps. She and the Traveler whirl at the direction of the noise—

And Ei is once again faced with the ghost of her past.

“Ei, is it really you?”

She has seen you in this era, wearing a kind smile and modern clothes. Always so welcoming despite the strangeness of the Raiden Shogun visiting a light novel store every other week. No, your appearance is not what makes her stumble, makes her breathless and teary-eyed as she closes the remaining distance between you.

It is the way you are looking at her. Because finally, finally there is recognition in your eyes.

You are solid beneath her touch, not an apparition, not a mirage. Your armor digs into her skin as she embraces you, her heart the lightest it’s been in five hundred years.

You’re sweaty and dirty and a little bit bloody, but Ei has seen you in the worst state possible. Dirtying her immaculate clothing is a small price to pay for this brief moment.

The Traveler watches with wide eyes, reconciling the image of the warrior in worn, outdated armor with the kind, cheerful editor of the Yae Publishing House.

“I was starting to lose hope,” you tell her, voice low with a quiet sort of relief. The smile she receives makes her feel young again, a kagemusha who fell in love with one of her sister’s retainers. “Now that you’re here, I’m sure everything will be alright.”

The future you speak of is nonexistent. The moment you died—her last hope, the only remaining light in her life after the death of her sister and companions—everything became a far cry from alright.

But Ei will tell you none of this. Your current self is safe in Inazuma City, living in the future she created with her own hands. But you of the past, the one she loved dearly, you know nothing of this future, of what will happen—had happened—to you, and she will keep it that way.

Perhaps this is just her way of attempting to alleviate her guilt upon your death, but she wants this ghost of you to move on with the knowledge that everything will be fine, even if all of it is a lie.

This time, it is her that prompts you to rest your head on her lap, stroking your hair and watching you be lulled to sleep.

“Rest now. I will handle the rest.”

Your eyes flutter closed for the final time, taking her hand in yours. You leave her with parting words that will resonate deep within her soul for the rest of eternity.

“You don’t have to do everything alone, Ei.”

✧

One would think that after battling herself for five hundred years, her first words to her dear friend would be to ask how Inazuma is, but perhaps five hundred years has made her a bit more selfish. So instead, she asks about you.

“How is…?” Ei doesn’t need to mention your name for Yae to know who she’s referring to.

“Oh, still delightful as ever, that one. Asks about you often, though. Far too often, in my opinion. Why, if I didn’t know any better I’d have thought I was only being approached so I can be the relayer of any news relating to you.” Yae shakes her head fondly. “Even without memories of your time together, that little one is still so smitten with you.”

Ei’s cheeks turns a light shade of pink. At the sound of Yae’s snicker, she turns a frown at the devious kitsune.

“Miko…”

“Oh, come now. Can’t a girl have a little bit of fun? Although, none of what I said was untrue.” Yae’s tone softens just the slightest bit, knowing the delicacy of anything regarding you. After a moment though, a sly smile makes its way to her lips. “If you have any tips on how to woo someone, be sure to tell me, Ei. Authors these days just have no imagination for romance, always so dry and boring.”

It’s a simple teasing remark, one of many that Yae is prone to saying. Ei shouldn’t respond to it, but she can’t help but say the first word that comes to her mind.

“Gifts.”

✧

“Your Eternal Excellency!”

The genuine surprise in your face leaves her amused. You quickly attempt to fix your messy hair and rumpled clothes. Had it been anyone else, she would have thought them lazy for being so unkempt, but you manage to make even the smallest of things endearing.

She supposes some things stay the same, even in a new life and a new era.

“I came to bring you a gift,” she says, holding out the Raiden Shogun statue that was sent to the Tenshukaku that morning.

You stare at the object with wide eyes, like you’re unable to believe that your archon is giving you an actual gift instead of the other way around.

When she set out in search of you that afternoon, she thought giving you something would be a good gesture. Although, in hindsight, gifting you a statue of herself may come off as conceited of her. Ah, she really should ask someone for advice before she approaches you next time.

Before she can apologize and return the statue, you’re already taking it from her hands, a look of wonder crossing your face as you inspected it.

“This was sold out hours ago! I was planning on buying one but I got there too late!” Casual. You speak so casually, as if the person you’re speaking to isn’t the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder.

As if the person you’re speaking to is simply her, Ei. Not the Raiden Shogun. Not the Electro Archon. Just Ei.

You give her your best smile. “Thank you.”

Can a person still be the same person even without their memories?

Ei doesn’t know, but perhaps she’ll find out soon.

part 2