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"Welcome to Liyue, Lord Harbinger."
The Harbinger Tartaglia takes a moment to sweep that cool blue gaze over the subordinates sworn to him in the nation ruled by the Archon of Geo, before nodding once in something that might be approval. "I trust my quarters are available?"
"Yes, Lord Harbinger." The one who has been introduced as Ekaterina gestures toward an ornate building toward the entrance of the Harbour. "Baiju Guesthouse is strategically located and has excellent views over the sea."
There is something almost familiar in how she offers this - as if she is aware of the Eleventh's preferences for the water - perhaps information from the homeland, or perhaps her awareness of his elemental affiliation, or perhaps her own personal research. Whatever the level of her diligence, he rewards it with a shadow of a smile. "Noted. I will attend the Northland Bank tomorrow to discuss the expansion of services as ordered by the Regrator. I should also like to inspect the training of the Millelith - as I understand it, they are the defensive force reporting to the Qixing but serving in the name of Morax."
Ekaterina bows, as do her two officers.
Tartaglia takes his leave - and it takes him five steps before he lets some of the tension shift from his shoulders into something more relaxed.
He is here in Liyue.
This is not his first mission for his beloved Tsaritsa - far from it, if he were to count the many commissions that she has given him to clear hordes and caves and mountainous dwellings in the homeland - but it is the first of such status.
To secure the Geo Gnosis.
To duel with the Geo Archon, to secure the Geo Gnosis.
He knows he is attracting glances and as-near-to-stares-as-are-polite as he walks toward the indicated guesthouse, which he meets with a smile he has fashioned to be charming and disarming. A Harbinger. In Liyue. The Eleventh Harbinger, with his reputation, with his status, with his mythic achievements upon the battlefield. One who looks so young, and yet has hands and blades and tips of arrows so very stained in the blood of those that the Tsaritsa deems the enemy.
He could read their thoughts, if he so chose - but instead, he focuses his attention upon the scenery, upon the architecture, upon the scents and the sounds and the vibrant colours of a city so very different from his village or indeed where the Palace is located. The air is balmy upon the flesh that is exposed, and the air is sharp with salt rather than chill.
He decides that perhaps he might quite like Liyue - and for a moment, he is saddened that he is here to cause his unique brand of chaos, as Signora so glibly put it. The welcome he receives at the guesthouse does nothing to dissuade him from this reticence as the staff are warm and professional, and the view truly is exceptional.
He looks to the west, as per his aspect - not over the sea, not over the ships, not over the bustling trade - but toward the road that leads to Mondstadt. Upon the horizon, elevated by the mountain that perhaps has been shaped intentionally to protect the city nestled within the valley, is a statue.
Bold.
Unyielding.
Magnificient.
Rex Lapis. Morax. The Geo Archon.
Childe - as he need no longer be Tartaglia when alone - wrestles with the cover of his knapsack to find the leather journal, pages scrawled with his neat handwriting - diagrams and notes to himself and research, research that has taken him months - research that, if this journal were to fall into the wrong hands, would very much reveal the plot he has for this fair city.
Everything that is known about Morax.
Everything that the Palace had to offer.
Everything that Pulcinella could tell him, over one of their many cups of warming tea and sweet hot chocolate.
Everything he has learned en route from talking, casually and openly, with feigned admiration, with travellers along the road.
Battles. Strategies. Insights. Declarations. Divinations.
Rex Lapis most certainly seems the worthy opponent for Childe. Warrior God. Master of Weaponry. Defender of Liyue, protector of his people, the great and the impassive.
Childe smiles, tracing his fingers over a sketch of his - copied painstakingly from a set of artistic representations at the Palace - annotated with his letters so small and cramped into the margins of the page. Morax in battle - white and gold and silver robes, Vortex Vanquisher in hand, levitating just slightly above the ground -
And bare of feet.
That detail always captures Childe's attention.
What might to feel so powerful that one could walk the battlefields of the Abyss and Corrupted - with bare feet. What confidence in divine ability that Morax could be so calm, so composed, so untouched by all around him.
How long has Morax defended all that is his with bare feet?
He is aware of course of Rex Lapis' half-dragon, half qilin form - those the latter was harder to discover in the Palace's military database. He is aware of all that Morax could use to battle him - but Childe hopes, privately, that it is this form.
Let him face the Eleventh Harbinger with that same confidence of victory.
Then, let the Harbinger Tartaglia show him what he truly is.
Let indecision and surprise filter across that mask, when Morax faces the Abyss once more - channelled into the most exceptional weapon walking Teyvat - and let Childe see it, before he claims the Gnosis for himself, for his Tsaritsa, for his people.
How long Tartaglia has waited for that moment - and now it is mere months away.
He closes the journal with reverence for both its subject and his mission, and returns his gaze to the horizon, to the statue of the Geo Archon, smug and smirking with hood and bare feet. For thousands of years, the Geo Archon has held the Geo Gnosis - and now, within his city, within his best guesthouse, walks the one who will bring that to a close.
All in good time.
This is also classed as research, Tartaglia reminds himself privately, as he sits opposite the Funeral Parlour Consultant in Wanmin Restaurant for the third time that week. It is certainly being classified as 'research' when he submits the expenses claims back to the Capital - considering his new friend is being generous with his time, and his cultural expertise, and his knowledge of a certain Rex Lapis.
Childe - because he is with a friend - is unsure of how long he has considered Zhongli xiansheng a friend, but he finds he does not dislike the designation. From his understanding of the concept, friends have similar interests (Rex Lapis), similar hobbies (the consultant fights very well for…well, a Funeral Parlour consultant…) and similar tastes (the bamboo shoot soup really is truly excellent and if Childe were not going to make an enemy of every individual in Liyue when he steals the Geo Gnosis from the heart of their Archon he would try to take it back home with him). So he considers Zhongli to be a friend, and based on the effusiveness of Zhongli's conversation, and attentions, and manner, it appears to be something mutual.
"I cannot quite recall where we got to last night, Childe."
Yes. It is the third time they have met this week, and it is also the third night of said week.
Childe is trying not to linger too much on that particular aspect of their friendship.
"You were telling me about how Rex Lapis cast Orobashi into the Dark Sea during the Archon War." Childe offers in more detail than is perhaps necessary, but he wishes for his exposition to reveal to Zhongli the depths of his listening. As he is listening, most intently, to every word Zhongli offers - and every inflection upon every syllable, because the most important part is always in the details.
Zhongli also sounds beautiful, and it does make a difference from hunching over texts in the Palace, wrapped in a cloak of fur, attempting to decipher ancient scripts he is not well versed in.
"Ah." Zhongli says, with a nod. "I did intentionally leave you on quite the suspenseful pause. Let me continue…"
Somehow, his voice is even more beautiful when he is explaining in vivid fantastical detail how Rex Lapis cast down the demonic monstrosity. Childe almost forgets that he is supposed to be gathering military intel - about time and about duration and about strategy and about how long Morax has honed his skills as protector and as warrior - and not just enjoying a masterful storyteller with the ability to make Childe feel as if he was truly there.
"How do you know so much?" Childe asks, when their glasses are nearly empty. "I've studied Liyue, and your Archon - and these tales are lost to time."
Zhongli smiles that excellent smile. "I admit myself to be rather fascinated with the Geo Archon. Naturally, it aids me in my understanding of the funeral rites and rituals laid down by Rex Lapis. It is - I suppose - an interest. An interest that we appear to share, Master Harbinger."
"He does sound mightily impressive." Childe leans back in his chair, thinking once more of the statue, and the illustration of Morax. "Tell me. Did Rex Lapis battle Orobashi with bare feet?"
Zhongli raises an elegant eyebrow at him.
It is the most alluring of expressions.
"A curious question, Childe."
"I assumed he had an aversion to shoes, considering all his statues and illustrations show him without any." Childe waves one hand, "He would be allowed to have likes and dislikes, after all."
For some reason, Zhongli finds this gently amusing, and his chuckle is rich like the hot chocolate Childe drinks at home. "Quite so. Rex Lapis is indeed allowed preferences. However, I am afraid that it is nothing so human - I am sure it will be to do with his affinity with Geo, and therefore having nothing to prevent him from connecting with his element." Zhongli mirrors Childe's body language, "Though, dear friend, you are permitted to ask a question of Rex Lapis during the Rite of Descension. I would wager a suitable amount of your Mora that he has never been asked whether he has an aversion to shoes."
Childe laughs at this. "Trust me, xiansheng, if I am privileged enough to meet Rex Lapis, there are a great many questions I would ask him - that one not being too high up my list of priorities."
Zhongli inclines his head. "I am sure he would be delighted to converse with you. Rex Lapis has always admired the strategic and the bold. More wine, perhaps?"
Childe wonders how long he has hoped for Zhongli to admire the strategic and the bold.
Tartaglia accepts that his mission is not quite going to plan.
One word is doing a significant amount of work in that thought-silently sentence, he considers, as he rematerialises some distance from the Golden House and allows himself to collapse fully to the already soaked grasses. His veins are still an unnatural purple as he stares down at his trembling hands and wrists, the winds swirling around him in a way most ominous.
He forces his fingers to operate, reaching into the side of his boot for the syringe that Dottore had given him with far too gleeful a laugh - but he knows he has no other option, for he has minutes to recover himself before the fight he is supposed to be engaging in.
Hopefully Osial will weaken Morax somewhat - not because Tartaglia does not wish for the battle he has trained for - how long has he trained for it now, and the 'oh so well meaning Traveller' had to intervene - but because Tartaglia does still have a mission to complete.
He requires the Gnosis.
Morax will not allow anything to happen to the Harbour, of that he is -
Well, he thought he was certain.
But despite the gathering gales and thunderous clouds, there appears to be no sign of the Geo Archon.
How long has Morax defended Liyue?
The absent Gnosis is confirmation that the Geo Archon is indeed alive - and Liyue is his very body and blood, cast upon the landscape, sheltered in that which Morax dragged with his sheer command of the rock that keeps even Tartaglia grounded and contained. Surely he will come to protect his people?
The tip of the needle pierces into his vein and the substance is more gentle than he expects from his certifiably-crazed counterpart - whether it is a numbing agent or truly able to heal him is to be discovered later, as he pushes himself back to his feet.
Still no evidence of the Geo Archon - and Tartaglia can see Osial's approach - can see the gathering clouds begin to thunder torrential rain upon the terrified citizens - and something uncomfortable does clench and claw at his chest.
Zhongli.
He had not been able to find Zhongli earlier - but he knows that it is not just Zhongli - it is all of the people that he has formed relationships with through Zhongli's introductions, through his extended stay in Liyue, through his interest in the culture and the history and the rituals and -
He will face Osial himself.
He will face Osial - perhaps that is what Morax expects - a battle on two fronts would be almost too much for the already weakened Tartaglia - almost, but not quite.
He will face Osial and then Morax, and then claim the Geo Gnosis as commanded by his Tsaritsa - and -
…Tartaglia sees movement upon the horizon. Not Osial. Others.
The Qixing.
The Adepti.
He takes two steps toward the edge of his cliff, reaching within to find the energies that cannot quite yet coalesce into his Foul Legacy transformation once more.
They intend to defend the city.
Oh.
Realisation collides with Tartaglia.
Morax is biding his time.
Of course he is.
How long has he waited to see if Liyue can defend itself?
Metallic acid chokes at the back of his throat and he coughs to spit the foul substance onto the ground before him. Morax will intervene - and Tartaglia will need to be ready - he will need to be prepared - he will need to strike at the opportune moment to -
"Is this what you meant by chaos, Childe?"
There are not many who could surprise Tartaglia - and he whirls. "Signora." The acid in his mouth this time is metaphorical, at the use of her name. "What are you doing here?"
The other Harbinger stands before his admittedly crumpled self, coolly cruel gaze passing over him. "I am ensuring the success of your mission, Childe."
The way she says his codename rankles at him. "The mission nears completion - Morax will appear to defend the city, and I will strike then."
A pause.
And then she laughs. Shrill, mocking. "Oh, youngest."
Tartaglia's eyes narrow.
"How long has he pulled the wool over your eyes?" Her words are almost trembling with mirth that is nothing good. "Come, then, Childe. Let me take you to him."
Tartaglia takes one step forward. "…To Morax?" He looks over his shoulder at the Harbour once more, and then back to Signora. "But the battle is - "
But she is already walking, and Childe follows.
"Your city is still standing, Morax. This is as was agreed in the contract."
"I do not believe you had a significant role in its upholding, Eighth Harbinger - however, you are correct. Liyue has proven itself, and it is understood that this could not have been orchestrated without the assistance of the Cryo Archon and her Harbingers, particularly Childe. I am grateful, Childe, more than you know."
"The Gnosis, then, Morax?"
"All in good time. I believe we are about to be interrupted - and the unexpected actor upon the stage will enter."
"Zhongli, I - "
"Perhaps later, Childe?"
The grounds of Yiyan Temple are surprisingly still, given the events that they have witnessed alongside the rest of Liyue these past few weeks. The balmy evening breeze rustles the trees that have withstood too many storms, and brushes across the flesh of two individuals who had happened upon each other there.
Whether by chance or by arrangement would remain unknown to the trees that bore the duty of the watch.
"Childe." Zhongli speaks softly. "I am…grateful to see you." His attire is immaculate as always, glinting in the setting sun. "I realise there must be a great deal you wish to say, and I would like you to understand that I will tell you everything, and that our friendship was both a confounding factor and a true glimmer of the purest gold during this unhappy affair."
The pause is long.
"…Childe. I apologise for deceiving you. I apologise for manipulating you into a performance you could know so little about. I apologise for - "
"You said I could ask the Geo Archon one question, upon his Descension." Childe's interruption is sharp and clear.
"…That was the offering, yes. Citizens of Liyue and esteemed guests would travel from far and near to ask a question, to request an answer, to see a divination."
"Then I would ask, now."
Zhongli straightens. Something in that offers a glimpse of that which is divine. "Then ask, Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers, Tartaglia, Childe, and friend of Liyue."
Childe's arms cross over his chest. "…how long?"
Zhongli tilts his head. "How long…in which respect, in what regard?"
Childe offers no further prompt.
"How long…did I deceive you? It has been my intention for two years to work alongside my Cyro counterpart to test the resilience of Liyue and to offer my Gnosis in exchange. To allow Rex Lapis to retire and to rest. It has always been the machination of both her and I that at least one Harbinger would be involved, though I admit I knew so very little of you. I regret that I manipulated one I have grown to care for, most deeply, but I have deceived you from the moment we were first acquainted in the Funeral Parlour."
This does not appear to be what Childe is seeking, for he turns away - though he does not abandon Zhongli.
Zhongli takes one step toward him. "…how long…Childe, I am being honest when I say I care for you. I did not know the strength of your transformation and the thought of you using it again to intervene with Osial stirred me so very nearly to action - I am aware of your willingness to - "
Childe faces him.
His expression is strange.
Drawn, and tense.
Zhongli's words still, and he waits, until the question is fully formed.
And then, and finally.
"How long have you protected Liyue?" Childe asks.
Zhongli is swift to answer. "Rex Lapis has defended Liyue Harbour since the city's inception - almost four thousand years. Naturally, though, the Geo Archon has always provided some form of protection to those who existed in his domain, whether god or mortal."
Childe shakes his head.
"I can assure you, Childe, I am quite the authority on the history of Rex Lapis, as you are now learning precisely why - "
"That is not what I asked. I did not ask anything about Rex Lapis or Morax. I asked about you."
Zhongli frowns, apparently confused. "We are one and the same being, Childe - just as to speak of Tartaglia is to speak of Childe. You are aware, I trust, that I retain the memories of the Geo Archon and his experiences are mine."
Something in his words makes Childe's form bind itself ever tighter, like the string of his bow when drawn. "…So, answer the question. How long have you protected Liyue?"
Zhongli hesitates, as if still unsure of what Childe is seeking.
"How long have you offered yourself as only and final defence of your city, Zhongli?" Childe takes the step this time, toward Zhongli. "How long have you been fighting, been maimed, been the one called upon to face the demonic and the monstrous and the cruel?"
Zhongli curls one hand into what could be a loose fist, if he did not wear gloves.
"How long have you mourned for all that you have lost, Zhongli? How long have you wanted a life that is different, a life that is peaceful, a life that is restful?"
Somehow, Childe is close enough now to take Zhongli's other hand in his.
Zhongli does not retreat.
"Zhongli." Childe breathes, for he need speak no more above a murmur. "How long have you been alone?"
Their foreheads come to rest together, so Zhongli may whisper his reply. "Eight thousand years."
"…Eight thousand years." Childe echoes.
"A blink of an eye for an immortal being like Rex Lapis, Childe."
"…but not for you, Zhongli."
"…perhaps not." Zhongli concedes, his fingers finding their way between Childe's.
"Did Zhongli dream of a mortal life, too?" Childe's free hand comes up, to cradle Zhongli's jaw, as their gazes find a way to hold across the tiny distance now between them, "Just as Morax dreamed of retirement?"
A tiny smile, from Zhongli. "He did."
"Well, then." The pad of Childe's thumb caresses Zhongli's soft cheek. "Perhaps a certain Harbinger can help Zhongli, as he has helped Rex Lapis?"
"I would like that very much, Childe. More than you could know."
"And how long have you felt that way?"
They are so very close, now.
"…ah, now the impetuous foreigner asks too many questions."
"Impetuous?" Childe teases. "Impetuous simply from asking questions of a retired god? Nay, tell me then - is it impetuous too of the foreigner to claim a kiss from that same god?"
"…we shall see." Zhongli offers back, and it is a challenge that Childe would never be able to resist - and the kiss is soft, and the kiss is sweet, and the kiss is tender.
"I thought you would be angry with me." Zhongli murmurs, when they are able. "For lying to you."
"I was." Childe answers, winding his arms around Zhongli and drawing him into his embrace. "Furious, in fact. Mostly because of how much sense it made - you really did know a great deal about Rex Lapis. I was furious to have been deceived, and then furious at myself for having been deceived, and then decided that your scheme did indeed make tactical sense and that being angry with you would cost me far too much energy when I do, unfortunately and fortunately, carry feelings for you."
They are quiet, then, tangled in each other's embrace.
"And yet you did not use your one question to answer your truest curiosity."
"My truest curiosity?"
"It is because I am vain." Zhongli replies.
Childe frowns.
"When I fashioned my vessel of Morax, I really did pay the utmost attention to every detail - including and especially my feet." Zhongli holds that brilliant sapphire gaze. "…so, naturally, to wear shoes would be quite the obstacle when I wished for them to appear in illustrations, and in statues, and in legend."
Childe laughs at this.
Openly, and gleefully, and unabashedly.
And when he has recovered, he asks in a tone so very inappropriate for the sacred gardens of the divine temple of the departed Geo Archon, "…so, are they beautiful, then?"
And Zhongli merely smiles. "One question too many, impetuous foreigner."
And their second kiss asks the question how long and perhaps too answers it with forever.