This was the first time in a very long time that Xiao crossed Liyue's border. It felt unnatural, like he was breaking some sort of rule; he wasn't, but that didn't change the lurking sense of dread. Nothing good could come of a situation like this, he figured. Where Mondstadt's god was asleep inside the censer at his waist, while his own deliberated what cheeses best paired with wine.

Lumine informed him that conversations like these served a purpose, that it comforted people to fill silence with trivial matters. By that logic, Rex Lapis was Teyvat's greatest reprieve; his rhetoric could stretch across time like a cat bathing in the sun. Further and further still, and in the end it was time to sleep.

He could see the appeal.

"The Cat's Tail," Diluc gestured to a modest-looking tavern, "a rather fierce competitor, but their atmosphere isn't for everyone." They continued down the main street, passing a fountain filled with coins.

"Do the cats not broaden her clientele?"

"Well, it's just-"

"Venti is allergic to cats," Xiao stated. They both stared at him. "And he's Mondstadt's favorite bard. According to him. So where he goes, everyone else follows, right?"

"That's true," Diluc smiled, "although I was referring to the bar itself. The place is rather small, so there aren't many quiet corners."

"Interesting. I always assumed Mondstadt was more social than Liyue."

"...In most cases it is."

Mercifully, they arrived at their destination.

Unlike the one before, this tavern stood alone against the castle-like walls. It hovered over a guard's station as if it were watching too, and with its arched roof tiles and wood-framed walls, it hid in plain sight. At least on the outside, the inside was a different story.

As they filed in, the first thing he noticed was the nun that wore stilettos. Even without them, she towered over him as she idly spun a knife around her fingers. It swung in wide arcs like a key ring, and beside her was an equally tall man with blue hair. They stood behind the bar, but they weren't preparing drinks. If they were the wait staff, then the dress code was very strange.

The Grandmaster stood from one of the tables, where a ream of paperwork sat beside an oil lamp.

"You're here just in time, we-"

"He's up again, but we haven't got him talking yet," the nun kicked over a plush-looking rug. It had been unfolded before, judging from the numerous lumps along the ground, and she crouched, prying open a cellar door.

"Well then, I don't see any point in standing around." One by one, they each climbed down a squeaking ladder. If it weren't for the wine barrels, then he would have assumed this to be an interrogation room. A single light hung from the ceiling and cast a sterile glow on the Abyss Lector.

In Xiao's opinion, he looked too healthy.

"Ready to talk now?" The nun arrived directly after Diluc, and she stood over the lector, "Or do you want my heel through your eye socket?"

"What you do to me is of no consequence. You can bring as many allogenes as you want, it changes nothing but the method of your barbarism."

She scowled and gestured back toward the group.

"Here's how this is going to go," the Grandmaster said, "I'm going to ask questions and you're going to answer them."

"Or what?" Xiao surprised even himself as he slid between them. He summoned his polearm and nodded,

"Who ordered the attack at Dadaupa?"

Silence.

"You've already failed, and in the end, it only took a handful of vision users to clear your forces. If your goal was to rush the city-" The lector laughed to the point of coughing, and it hacked away, sputtering along the ground until its voice cleared.

"Don't you imbeciles see? That was never the plan in the first place. Not that it matters, your pathetic excuses for go- AGH!" Xiao's polearm splintered through the creature's knee, but this was not without its usual consequence.

Black splotches spattered across his vision like viscous ink, and nausea suddenly leapt up his throat. A bone-chilling jolt cascaded down his legs. He felt his knees should have been trembling, but instead they were locked in place. He reminded himself that only the performance mattered, that he was putting on a show, as he internally strangled a wave of karmic retribution.

Why here? Why now? This could hardly be considered a fight. The thing was on the ground in a leaking heap! But he would be damned if he didn't get what he came for.

"Why? Why tamper with the ley lines when you know they can't be controlled?"

"Their cause is beneath you. It's beneath-" Xiao carefully raised his weapon and pierced through the same place with the base of his spear. He ground the torn ligaments like a poultice. Triumph surged through him before the second wave of nausea, and this time he couldn't help but grimace.

"Then do enlighten us, oh wise, bleeding mage." Kaeya strode up beside him. Too close for comfort. If Xiao were an ordinary person, his skin wouldn't have prickled at his proximity. He also wouldn't be here. He'd be sitting somewhere at the top of a tree, or more accurately, he would have died a long time ago. To a nice, modest sickness.

If the thing responded, its voice garbled like nonsense in his ears. An inferno suddenly rushed to his cheeks, and the mortals on either side gaped in horror. Zhongli called his name.

A dark vortex descended between himself and the lector, all-encompassing and all he could see. Yet even in the whirlwind, he could sense the others' presence. It felt like returning to Liyue, Morax, the Traveler, Venti, a blossom of heat that caused his hair to stand on end.

And then ice snuffed it out.

"I-I was never informed why, but he's interested in Sumeru. Inazuma didn't have what he was looking for!" It screamed in terror, presumably at whatever it saw, and Xiao's knees gave out.

"That's enough," Morax seized his weapon too late, and as his mind returned he realized.

The lector was dead.


Strange flower petals whiffed through the air as she raced across an arched wooden bridge. Most fell back to the ground in an impetuous dance, but a few threaded their way into her disheveled hair, adorning it with sprinkles of pink.

"Thoma!" Her voice echoed around the city square as she reached him.

"Traveler?" He carried groceries in one arm and a list in the other, though he looked ready to drop both.

"Thoma-" She rested her palms on her knees, while she fought for her breath. "Have you seen a kid with blue hair? I'm not entirely sure what he looks like, but he's taller than this." She gestured with her hand, "Oh! He's also probably dressed in a suit coat. It's got fancy embroidery and it hangs in the back. Like- like a trench coat almost!"

The man seemed to contemplate a moment, but not long enough to yield an answer.

"W-what? Are you okay? What's going on?"

Given the oddity of this place, he felt like asking the same question.

"It's a long story, and I can fill you in later, I just need to know if you've seen anyone matching that description."

Had he seen anyone strange? He thought back, but he couldn't remember anything. Where he had been before this, whom he had been with, or if he had ever even met these two.

The woman, or the Traveler as he had called her, looked friendly enough. She wore two feathers in her hair which would have been a fashion statement in Mond; feathers were a symbol. One was for you, and one was for the person that you loved. At least, that's what people said.

Alternatively, they could mean you were from the city, but she didn't look like she was from anywhere he recognized. So…why did they seem so significant?

Why did the man, Thoma, sound so familiar even if he was dressed so strangely? Even if he couldn't remember him? Maybe it wasn't the feathers or either of them in particular. It must have been the circumstance.

Here they all were in a picturesque, tranquil place, but urgency obscured any semblance of peace. They discussed some malevolent force, someone powerful enough to tamper with the ley, the very forces of nature. And her hair.

She wore two feathers, two. Two.

There were two arrows in his chest.

"Well, there's no doubt this is escalating to an international scale. You said you had friends investigating abroad?"

He had been shot.

"No, Inazuma hasn't faced a major threat like that. At least not yet."

So he must have been in a fight.

"You're in luck then. It just so happens that I have business with the Shogun."

He had been in a fight. The battle for Mondstadt's freedom, against Decarabian. He had been there, leading the charge, since the Gunnhildr's had insisted on his presence. Though he would have been there anyway; they insisted he had a unique ability to inspire. Even the wind follows you, they had said.

I like to think we lead each other, he had said. And they had charged into battle shortly thereafter. The wind sprite by his side, the Gunnhildr's and the Ragnvindr's too.

And a blue-haired boy. He wore an embroidered blue coat with a torn sleeve. He called out to him, but at the time he hadn't heard. He looked so strange, that's why he remembered. Yes, that had to be it. That had to be him!

"I know who you're looking for!" He called to the Thoma and the Traveler, but neither heard.

He was dead, a ghost.