So, another spoiler warning for the Anemo archon. But... dude. Really? You don't know who the idiot is? He's got his face plastered on statues.
Long, long ago, deep within the Guili planes, there lay a small city. This city's name was lost to time, but the reason why it was known was not for its prosperity, not for its warriors, and not even for its ability to withstand time.
It was known because this city was built by a goddess.
Within that city, housed a temple. This temple that was built to worship the deity was neither large nor extravagant. Instead of grand alters for sacrifices and tributes, she had a simple wooden table, carved from leftover scraps of wood she had found in the forest. Instead of grand feasts to celebrate her presence, she asked to be served simple meals made for the masses.
This temple housed the patron deity of the city, the goddess of dust, Guizhong the wise.
She was known to all as a benevolent god, one that would protect the inhabitants with as much fervor as protecting ones' own family. She sought out not tribute nor sacrifice, demanded little, and even shared her knowledge to help improve the lives of her people.
This was no ordinary goddess.
Other gods may look at her, take in her bright smile and cheery disposition; maybe overhear how she spends her days helping mortals achieve greater heights than ever before, talking to them as though they were equals, and leap to the 'worthless' conclusion without stopping to think.
But they never think more than that.
To Guizhong, it's only a slight annoyance at worse, because being underestimated can be useful once in a while.
When gods warred for land, bridging the gap for the seven seats of power, she stood back to allow her people to survive.
When gods demanded for her support, she sends nothing but a single grain of rice.
And when gods see an easy target, she sees nothing but red.
Guizhong hated war. It was mindless. Waking each day to make war, and making war for the right to wake the next day. But just because she despised war did not mean it hampered her ability to wage it.
After stepping back to allow the others to fight, she planted herself down and refused to take another step more.
And to any who laugh at this philosophy need only to turn their head slightly to see Rex Lapis following faithfully behind her.
After all, she's the one who managed to subdue him.
Not kill, no. That would be too easy for a goddess like Guizhong.
Rex Lapis now serves her.
Rex Lapis, the warrior god. The god who slayed beasts, demons, and gods alike. The unbeatable god who would crush any who stood in his path to glory. The one who walked into a band of gods, waged war for three days straight without rest nor sustenance, and walked back out with the heads of those who dared opposed him.
It took Guizhong a minute.
During the season of fall, what seems to be another day where gods fought to surpass one another is interrupted by a blast of white light that shone even through the glare of the afternoon sun. Not long after they feel beneath them the shaking of the earth as a dust cloud builds in the distance.
Another God to be claimed by Rex Lapis, they think. One opponent less to wage war with.
But when Rex Lapis entered through the entrance of her abode, he was evicted through the window.
-0-
Dust is nothing but the fine particles that remain after destruction. They are the remnants of soil, ash and earth, so little and insignificant that they contain none of the splendor they once held. Nothing but the broken pieces from things better than itself.
But remember, for she is none of these things.
Most gods see dust as something to be brushed away. Pebbles on the track to their greatness. Not even worth the ink for the footnotes of their glorious path.
But remember, for she is not a god built from dust.
The longevity of gods allows them to forget how fleeting life is. It makes them careless. To a god, embodying a single ideal gives them their power. The belief that mortals gave them may have fueled the forces that powered them, but at their core, they are power incarnate. To hold domain over fire meant they were fire. Fire burns with passion, blazingly igniting their foes and friends alike. But if they burn too quickly, their fuel quickly runs out. Lighting strikes fast and breaks through shelter as if it never existed. Armor is worthless against its assaults, and if one were to stand too close, it will bring down its wrath upon them as well. But lightning only blazes for a brief moment, before fading into nothingness.
Remember, as so few do, for she is the God of Dust.
So what does dust embody?
Patience.
Everything is designed to end. Power itself is a concept that remains immortal. But the gods that embody it certainly are not.
And Guizhong can be very patient.
-0-
This is what the people of her city think of her. This is what they preach when asked why they serve this god. Because behind that smile, behind all the kindness she has shown, all the love she has given to anyone who had only simply needed it; it pales to the rage she buries underneath it all.
All hail Guizhong, the Goddess of Dust. The Goddess of Patience. The Goddess of The End.
Her reign is eternal, for everything, eventually, will return to dust.
….but how much of this is true? How much of this is fiction forged from unfinished facts that are relayed over a drunken tale?
It the end, it does not matter.
She is still a God, and Gods need not to explain themselves.
-0-
This is where Zhongli, the mysterious consultant of the Wangsheng funeral parlor, barges into the tavern and locks his gaze on a bard from Mondstadt. His eyes visibly twitch as he spots the bard drunk on dandelion wine, slurring his stories to a group of enamored historians frantically writing down notes.
The bard only notices his presence when the shadow behind him grows to overtake his own.
And Venti, with a great scream, was dragged into the consequences of his own actions.
I may have fucked up. This chapter was supposed to come first, and I only noticed I posted the wrong chapter 3 days after it was up. But then again, these shorts are designed to be read in any order, so I guess it doesn't matter that much.
Whoops.