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Amber eyes slowly opened with the first rays of light of the day, their owner blinking tiredly before running a hand over his face; trying his best not to answer the enticing call of his comfortable bed and blankets as he had things to do.
Zhongli wearily got up, glancing back to the unmade bed but didn’t find it in him to fix it. He sluggishly put his numerous layers on, mechanically going through all the motions; a look on the mirror confirming that he looked just as pristine as usual.
An unchanging rock.
He quickly averted his eyes, knowing where his thoughts would spiral if he let them.
The former Archon made his way to the main door, ignoring the numerous pictures of a happy family showing a ginger with deep blue eyes and a blinding smile. He hastened the pace, not wanting to be reminded of the past on such an occasion.
Zhongli immediately took the path to the docks, approaching the stands that would usually make him recoil in disgust. Unfortunately, the main ingredients of his husband’s prized dish were the seafood he abhorred.
Their son, though, had taken an immediate liking to this dish when he was younger and claimed it as his favorite to the great dismay of the former Archon; who had still learned how to cook it perfectly to please Haibao.
Back at home, he immediately put himself to work; the cooking a welcome distraction from the eerie silence of the once welcoming, lively home. About two hours later, he was finished; and only needed to grab one more bag before going over to the other’s house.
Wanting to preserve the soup to the best of his abilities, Zhongli teleported himself straight there; putting the pot in his son’s kitchen. He then proceeded to decorate the living room with ribbons of all shapes and colors; some of them forming a bright ‘ Happy Birthday, Haibao!’ .
Despite his efforts, it still looked as lackluster as the first time he had had to do it by himself over two centuries ago.
Zhongli didn’t have time to try and fix it though, as he could hear footsteps coming from the stairs.
As Haibao came down and took in the sight, he couldn’t help a frown that didn’t go unnoticed by his father.
‘ He-… didn’t like it.’
“Why are you still doing this?” He asked with a bitter undertone, crossing his arms.
“Happy birthday, Haibao,” Zhongli congratulated instead; to which the other said nothing.
“I decided on something different for your gift this year,” the Adeptus informed after a few minutes of awkward silence. “Let me hear your wish, and I shall grant it.”
“Any wish?” His son raised an eyebrow.
The former Archon nodded, thanking his acquaintance for this idea in his mind. It was truly perf-…
“I want Papa back.”
Zhongli froze, eyes wide and vulnerable.
His son went past him after a while to access the other rooms, grabbing one of the decorations and ripping it from the wall.
“Since you can’t grant it , then stop doing that to my house every year.”
He shut the door violently behind him, making it clear that he didn’t want to be followed.
Zhongli... Zhongli made his way to the entrance after snapping out of his trance. He had his hand on the handle, about to go when he noticed a familiar article of clothing hanging from the coat rack. On impulse, he took it; promising to himself to bring it back later.
He hadn't known how much he needed it before seeing it.
Stepping outside, he let his feet guide him to any destination they saw fit; mind wandering dangerously in the meantime.
Of course, he ended up in the place that made him feel the most anguish: an alcove hidden on the side of one of Jueyun Karst’s peaks. The scenery itself was beautiful; a small stream pooling at the foot of a monolith then flowing down; separating a flowerbed in two. These delicate blue flowers had been imported by Zhongli directly from Inazuma; as he found their meaning fitting.
Originally found in Chinzu forest, they were night flowers that lit up the dark with their softly glowing petals. Despite their beauty, they represented the agonized waiting for a loved one who left too suddenly and, more particularly, the incalculable sorrow of beings that will never grow old when faced with the reality of a mortal’s weakness to time.
No number of promises can fight fate.
‘Of Promises Unkept the Night Flowers Speak’, was the most accurate translation of their name; and Zhongli agreed that it suited them.
The writing on the monolith was covered in moss; yet he could have recited it in his sleep. This was, after all, the final resting place that he had chosen for his Ajax.
-----
Haibao found his father already kneeling in front of Childe’s tombstone. Not wanting to have to confront Zhongli, he stayed hidden from sight; deciding to wait for the other to finish.
When Zhongli moved, he expected him to stand up and go away; not for him to sit down directly on the grass, facing the monument. Not for him to mutter, voice raw and broken:
“ I miss you... ” Silence followed his words, interrupted only later by a long, shuddering breath. “Today... today was hard. I don’t think that I would have been able to get up if it wasn’t for Haibao’s birthday that I had to prepare.”
Zhongli chuckled humorlessly.
“I don’t think that I would have ever managed to get up at all ever since I lost you if it wasn’t for Haibao. Had it been up to me, I would have lost myself to slumber in the depths of the earth from the first day and let erosion consume me. Sometimes, I still consider the idea of it.” The dragon shook his head, shooing the thought away.
“I-… I decorated his house, just like we used to do at home; with all these ridiculous multicolored ribbons and balloons. I had promised to do so, after all, do you remember? How embarrassed our son was that we were still celebrating his birthday in this childish manner on the day he turned eighteen, and how we said we would keep doing the same all his life for he would always remain our little boy.” You could hear the fondness in his tone as he recalled these times.
“Haibao-… wasn’t-… wasn’t happy to see me.” His voice almost broke again. “It seems that this tradition of ours has been infuriating him more than bringing him joy for a good number of years already. Maybe... it is time for me to stop despite our promise.”
“Finding a gift for him was even harder than usual, as celebrating his 300 th birthday deserved something special. Unfortunately, I had already used all of the ideas I had had during the previous decades; so I shared my dilemma with an acquaintance of mine, who advised some kind of ‘blank check’ as a present. They told me to bring a small gift on the day in question and to ask the person directly what they wanted; to offer it to them later. I thought it to be a great suggestion-…" Zhongli cut himself off, a lump in his throat preventing him from speaking further. “I-… He-… Haibao-… He-…" His mind was a jumbled mess, and his sentences made less sense the more he talked.
“Haibao asked for you,” he finally managed to utter, with so much heartbreak in his voice that it would make anyone listening tear up. “I-… I didn’t know what to answer,” Zhongli struggled to say through the pain squeezing his chest; letting his head fall in his hands. “I wish I was able to bring you back...” His eyes were completely covered, but you could see gleaming tears running the length of his cheeks. “ Celestia , there is nothing I wish more than to be able to see you again; for even the briefest of moments.”
All-out sobbing, the former Archon didn’t even try to hide his grief behind his usual stoic mask, letting anguish permeate his every feature.
“I am reminded of a part of you every second of every day and it makes me miss you all the more; you, your fiery red hair to match your personality, your gaze so bottomless that it was so very easy for me to get lost in it, your smile... Celestia, your smile ... Haibao has just the same, so bright and open... I merely wish that him smiling wasn’t a special moment worth dearly remembering; that it was the most common of occurrences.”
He raised his head.
“Still, it is a sight that fills me with joy; despite his smiles never being meant for me.” Zhongli traced the writing on the tombstone with his fingers. “If-… if there was any way I could trade my place with yours, I would take it, I swear... especially when it would make Haibao much happier.”
An object appeared in his hands; stored in a subspace before then. The dragon was looking at it as if it was the most precious of treasures.
“You always were the one he loved most; the one who deserved to watch him through all the steps of his life.” Despite his best efforts, Zhongli’s next sentence still held an undertone of bitterness. “Haibao hasn’t called me ‘dad’ once ever since you-… you passed. It’s only ever ‘father’ now, or ‘Zhongli’ when he is in a good mood.” His eyes were glistening with unshed tears again. “For so long, I kept asking myself what I was doing so wrong that our son would resent me so; only to realize that-… that I wasn’t you.”
He delicately wrapped Childe’s scarf around his neck, burying his face in the soft fabric.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t be you for Haibao... I-… I tried to be enough for decades, but I now understand that I will never be.” Zhongli stayed still, enjoying the feeling of the familiar material while he could; knowing that he would have to give it back later. Thanks to his preservation spell, the scarf had remained undamaged through the centuries and if he let his mind wander enough, he could almost feel Childe’s presence beside him.
“ I miss you... I can’t seem to be able to get rid of this hole in my chest... Our friends previously helped fill it, but they are all either dead or spending most of their time far away now; and I wouldn’t dare force my issues on them.”
“I tried to stay strong, after you-… left . I repeated over and over that I was alright so they wouldn’t worry about me... I wanted Haibao to know that I would remain a steady rock in his life, one that he could rely on.” A humorless chuckle escaped him. “Truth is, that rock had already shattered with you, and all these reassurances were more about convincing myself than the others. I-… I haven’t been alright in a long time, and I am not sure Haibao is either...”
“He keeps pushing me away every time I try to help him. Yet, even if he didn’t, I wouldn’t know what to do. Out of the two of us, you were the one who could always think of something; the one who knew how to reach our son... you always knew what to say to settle the arguments I got in with him and calm us both down. I wish-… I wish I had half this ability of yours. You would have resolved the whole situation already, I am sure.”
The former Archon looked back down at his hands.
“I have all this power that you kept praising at my fingertips, yet I never felt more powerless.”
He took a shaky breath.
“I don’t even know how to announce it to him... I kept backing out when I had occasions to; I just-… I-…" He sighed. “I am too much of a coward to hurt him again.”
Zhongli started removing his gloves, slowly, carefully.
“Yet, it is inevitable. So I ask myself everyday what you would have done in my stead; only to come up empty.”
The usually brown-colored hands were covered in deep crevices leaking a golden light.
“A mere week ago, one of my Adepti had to remind me about Azhdada’s birthday; and I almost asked them who that was.”
Zhongli let go of his fully human form, gaining a tail, antlers and a good half a meter. The same gleaming rifts were crisscrossing his entire body.
“I am afraid-… no, terrified,” his voice trembled. “Already, the memory of you is becoming blurry in my mind; and there is nothing I can do to stop it...”
Particles detached themselves from the edges of the fissures on his face as the former Archon wept.
“I am terrified to forget who I am,” he admitted. “Who you and Haibao made me become.” Morax had indeed become very different over time; his extraordinary memory making him a being defined by it.
“But, that is the very essence of erosion, isn’t it? Snipping away slowly but surely at the very core of you until there is nothing left but an empty shell.” Zhongli paused, looking for words. “I always knew this was the fate of immortals like myself. I knew that erosion would be the end of me for millennia now. I-… I knew.”
He gripped the front of his chest.
“So why doesn’t it make this easier ? Why is it that the more certain I am of my end, the more desperate to live I am?” Some parts of his tail fell off and crumbled to dust as it swished anxiously behind him. “I thought-… I thought I had made peace with my fate eons ago, yet...”
The appendage stopped still.
“Yet that was a lie, wasn’t it?” He spoke softly. “I simply-… didn’t have anything to look forward to. Didn’t have anyone to live for. Didn’t-…" Zhongli choked on a sob. “Didn’t have a son that I wanted to stand by the side of...”
He closed his eyes, the golden tears that were stuck in the corners making their way down.
“You would be so proud of him. I am so proud of our son.”
Zhongli burrowed his face into the soft crimson scarf again.
“ Celestia, I miss you so much ...”
Suddenly, a noise made him turn around. Zhongli and Haibao stared at each other, his son taking in the innumerable rifts cracking his skin open in a display that had no right to be this beautiful, taking in the wet tracks running down his fissured cheeks, taking in the horror in the Cor Lapis eyes as his father realized he had been there all along.
“Haibao,” he said, at a loss.
However, the other couldn’t even hear him over the jumbled cacophony of his thoughts.
‘I-… He thinks-… That’s not what I wanted! I-… Celestia, does he really think I don’t love him? Why-… why did he never say anything? And-… the erosion-… gods-… what am I supposed to do?!’
‘ I-… I don’t want to lose my dad! Gods, why did I ever say those things to him-… I-… I didn’t know-… I thought-… I-… I-…'
“I’m so sorry... ”, he breathed, running towards the one he had not realized had misunderstood so many of his actions and words. “I love you, I’m so sorry -” Haibao pulled Zhongli into the tightest hug; afraid to let go lest the other crumbled to dust in his arms. “ Dad, I love you, I’m so sorry...”
Limbs wrapped around his back, returning the hug hesitantly like they couldn’t believe what was happening.
“Haibao...” Zhongli repeated, voice full of wonder at what seemed like a dream to him.
“ Gods , I always loved you; I just-… after Papa died, I was just so angry ... I wanted to blame someone, anyone ; except you can’t exactly punch old age in the face, can you?” A wet chuckle escaped him. Childe had passed peacefully in his sleep in his seventies, gone from one day to the next. “I was just so angry...” he repeated, voice low and barely intelligible. “So angry at the whole world... and when I looked at you then, you were-… you were just so calm ... It was like you weren’t even fazed by his death!”
Haibao let go of Zhongli, wiping his tears the best he could; rather uselessly as they kept falling.
“I’d-… I’d always admired you for being composed all the time, did you know?” He choked on a sob. “But-… at that time-… I hated you for it,” his son confessed. “It felt like it didn’t matter to you; like you didn’t care ; like you didn’t love him and-…" His gaze dropped to the ground out of shame. “-and I knew, deep down, that it wasn’t true... But I was angry and hurting so badly and-… I wanted you to hurt just as much because it seemed like you weren’t-...”
“I knew you loved us; I knew ... but it was just so much easier to convince myself to blame you instead... we were always arguing, couldn’t get along because our personalities never allowed it... Yet you cared ; you never were one to show it a lot like Papa, but-… but I remember how you always came to check on me discreetly after we had one of our arguments; how you always took the time to listen even when you were extremely busy; how you always were with me when it mattered the most...”
Haibao’s nails were digging into his palms painfully given how hard he was squeezing his fist, but he didn’t even notice.
“You wer-… are a great dad; the best I could hope for... and I-… and I hurt you and pushed you away because I was stubborn and selfish and I didn’t want to accept that you were hurting too!” Haibao was wiping his tears frenetically because he wasn’t the one who deserved to cry but they just. wouldn’t. Stop.
“I-… I wanted to fix it,” he admitted as well. “I wanted to fix what I’d broken but-… I didn’t know how! I didn’t even know where to start! I wanted to apologize-… but what even for, given all I’d done?!”
In the two hundred years since Childe’s death, he hadn’t told Zhongli to stop bringing the same decorations for his birthday every year because it made his dad happy and Haibao felt so guilty already. But, seeing them didn’t bring back good memories, only reminded him of what he couldn’t have; making him more and more bitter each time.
It started feeling like Zhongli was doing this on purpose , started making him angry again and he ended up hurting his dad once more.
Haibao knew his father loved him; but didn’t think he could bear the sheer disappointment in Zhongli’s eyes when he confessed to consciously hurting him. Couldn’t bear the slightest hint of disgust or resentment.
Pathetic, coming from the one who wasn’t even the victim, wasn’t it?
“Haibao,” the eroded dragon called. His gaze didn’t budge from the floor; out of both shame and apprehension. “Haibao, look at me,” Zhongli gently repeated.
And he did. He raised his head slowly, to delay the most he could that moment when he’d see in his father Cor Lapis irises’ the anger he dread-... oh.
There was none.
Only pure, boundless affection .
How-… how could his dad still look at him like that after all he said?
“I am proud of you, Haibao. It mustn't have been easy for you to find the courage to tell me.” It was Zhongli’s turn to pull his son into a hug, smiling warmly. “I’ll always be proud of you, and I’ll always love you; no matter what.”