#⟣ ┄ ─ & 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘺𝘦.

[qilyns-a]

@yanwangye said ... if the moon smiled,  she would resemble you. / open.

his gaze is gentle but distant as he speaks, looking to the moon as it peeks through the black dust – cover over qiongji. her gaze remains on him, half – startled at the sound of his voice after so long sitting in mutual silence. the moon shines down on the low, muddy waters where the jagged rocks of the formerly paved streets of the guili assembly poke through to pierce the surface, little mountains rising out of the knee – high depths. the lord of rock cuts a figure worthy of godhood even when brow – beaten, sitting next to her on one of the last formations of architecture still standing, but there seems to be less of him now, like if he raised his hand to point at the moon, she might be able to see through it. cold, clear light bleeding through the outlines of his person.

ganyu supposes some part of him went away with guizhong. scattered to the wind, the fine dust of their beings intermingled, or washed out by the unnatural tidal wave that carried most of their hopes for the future with it. so long they've fought this war, only to be left with so little. she knows she mustn't despair while there are still people pledged to live and fight for their archon, but for one night only she permits herself to feel hopeless.

whatever morax is feeling must be far worse. years lived in each other's proximity could not bridge such grief. she reveres him as a god, deeply, and as an equally devoted guardian for as long as memory serves, but she would not claim to understand him as a person. it's not her place to try.

" thank you. " ganyu rubs her eyes, and tries to smile like how she thinks he would want her to, for such a compliment. mostly she feels embarrassed that he still feels like he has to look out for her before himself. it's what guizhong would want him to do, probably, but she's not here, and she won't be here no matter how many times they return to this memory, this conversation. " i – i really ... miss her too ... " the thought alone threatens to split her heart in half, but she won't burden him with that responsibility anymore. if this night marks the end of her seldom carefree, but no less fondly remembered, days of adolescence, then so be it.

" but the moon is smiling at me tonight, like you said. " from behind the clouds or among the stars, day – moon or startlingly bright. it feels meaningful, if only for the fact that it apparently reminded him of her. " i won't keep you – i'll be okay on my own. " more or less. there's almost no one else left here now, save for those haplessly sifting through the rubble of their homes. not so different from the two of them, it occurs to her as she rises up, unsteady on her feet from sitting down too long.

" good night. " a shallow, jagged sigh. and – " i'm sorry. "

[qilyns]

@yanwangye said ... you laugh like a little girl, and inside you think like a martyr.

it would be a rather snide remark, coming from anyone else. ganyu would have rolled her eyes if it were cloud retainer, crossed her arms defensively and not made any attempts to hide how peeved such familiar remarks made her. it's not just anyone else though. coming from the one whose word is law and whose name is the subject of her repentance, how could she argue? her devotion is a gravity well — personal feelings and opinions cannot escape its pull. acceptance is the only thing that emerges.

if there is anyone else who would know better than herself about what she is or isn't — it's rex lapis. faith is comforting in that regard, even when the subject matter itself unnerves her more than she'd like to admit. ganyu blinks slowly, and exhales in a manner not entirely unlike a huff.

" i'm .. not sure what you mean by that. " she doesn't feel bad admitting it, idle to assume insult where she may simply be ignorant on the matter. don't martyrs die though? the subjects of childhood and sacrifice are already closely tied in her memory, though she prefers not to tread in that particular mire unnecessarily. perhaps it's the same in his memories of her too. what a shame that would be. " i .. fully intend on honoring my contract to the people of liyue for many years to come, so please don't worry about me. i'll still be here. "

[qilyns]

the numbness does not subside even as she wills herself to move, shifting away from him with arms crossed tight over her chest. the world does not stand still for anyone, no matter how much she might wish that it would just stop and give her a minute.

all the while she hears him breathing, and the soft rustle of layers of fabric shifting against an unexpectedly warm evening breeze – impossibly tangible in a way that she isn't ready to parse with just yet. ganyu wants so badly to ask him for that minute, to stand quietly for a while longer. it's a terribly human thing to ask for, she realizes, but there's no way she could face this the way he does, so dignified even in dejection. a presence simply radiating despite the form it presently inhabits.

" no – i'm sorry, i didn't mean to imply that you've done something wrong .. or to offend me. i just didn't understand. and – um .. i still don't. "

her own capitulation to memory is not so graceful. what do i even call you? ganyu wonders but doesn't ask, throat twisting into a painful knot when she forces herself to face zhongli again. the name alone feels awkward within her mind – but in this instance alone, the lack of familiarity is a small mercy for her nerves. " was it really you, all this time? but then .. i should have known, shouldn't i? when we spoke earlier .. i couldn't recognize you at all. "

to the adepti, he had said nothing. ganyu had been first among them to witness the fall, and only because of a separate proximity altogether to a human rite that the others had nothing to do with. had it been cruel? perhaps. then, he never expected it to have been a decision any other could make — a heart may beat within, but it pulses with gold that has hardened in time. it is a heart that he has shared with ganyu for millennia, ever since her mother had placed her in his arms to bless her. forgive him, that he had felt the need to break it to allow it to beat with ease again.

he expects this, the disbelief and the distance — still, whether he had considered what he would have done with it is another matter. it always seems to be another matter.

" yu-yu, " the name is as foreign on the tongue as it is familiar, and he hopes it stirs up the same memories that he has always held dear, if only to prove that he had not done this in jest. the shape that is zhongli closes his mouth, gaze dropping for a moment to alleviate her from the weight of it, and sighs. whatever explanation he had primed along the lips turns to stone, and shame instead takes its place. " i am sorry. "

[qilyns-a]

@yanwangye said ... i know your heart my dear, i know when it falters. / open.

it is a desolate heart & a pair of weary eyes that watch as the night rolls in over liyue harbor – from where ganyu is perched, clutching the stone railing of the yiyan temple courtyard , the lights all appear as little stars dotting the rocky landscapes and myriad streets. long ago, this place was nothing more than moon – lit coastal crags and cliffside shrubbery, the silence gently stirred by the hushed conversations of companions scampering through the wilderness. this place ... is the stuff of dreams ; an enduring vision created in the image of its sovereign – and her own soul inextricably bound to the world of humans. in times past, she might speak the terms of their contract quietly to the dark and imagine that he could hear her, and see the bellowing depth of her devotion. her hands quiver under the cold light of the moon. duty has never felt so far out of her grasp.

ganyu thinks she's the last one left to haunt the temple after the rite is concluded, until the sound of approaching footsteps alerts her to the presence of another – whose words unexpectedly causes her heart to practically jump out of her chest. painfully quick to stir at the lightest touch of familiarity. but why? the consultant to the funeral parlor has barely exchanged two sentences with her since their initial encounter, and seemed particularly distant mere hours ago when the ceremony was underway. when she turns to face him and their eyes meet – impossibly warm hues of cor lapis opposite her own cool gaze – it's a different sensation altogether. she used to think she would know him anywhere, but this cruel trick of the light must mean that rex lapis has slipped further from the reaches of her memory than she ever thought possible, now haunting her by way of stay acts of kindness from strangers.

" why makes you say that? " her tone is purposefully mellowed as she speaks, idle to acknowledge any unwarranted and urgent sense of remembrance. they must be mistaken somehow, both of them. " you're not .. ? "

[qilyns]

realization creeps up the back of her neck like a shiver warding against cool air, hair standing on end and breath suspended on the cusp of her lips. a thousand years in this world might pass her by in the blink of an eye, but these few seconds of silence seem to stretch out beyond measurable time.

it feels like nothing, at first – a necessary paralysis of the body and mind seizing her to prevent the immense weight of his gaze from toppling her immediately. the great unbalancing of the grief she's been shouldering alone for weeks.

the longer ganyu stares, the further she finds herself from the comfort of a simple explanation. a cruel joke would have been more straight – forward than this, but zhongli ... he has no reason to lie to her – insofar as a mere gesture, a slight shift in one's expression could ever be considered untruthful. she'd know him, wouldn't she? four thousand years of knowing reduced to an instance of recognition.

" .. " the face of a stranger still upsets her, however inconvenient it may be for the sake of their reunion – if that's indeed what this is. the thought alone invites some feeling back into her limbs and body , and a small reprieve in that her expression doesn't betray the quiver in her throat where her voice ultimately fails. suppose she might recognize a god by this alone, the way his presence reduces her in an instant. " this .. is this real? i'm sorry, i can't quite .. i might need a moment. "

he should feel guilty.

to say that he is devoid of guilt even hours after witnessing the peoples' last goodbye to their archaic lord would be a lie ; yet, there is an ease and lightness to his steps now that cannot be overstated. a freedom that cannot be squandered. still ... he could never suffer seeing his children in pain.

" perhaps not as i am now, no. but ... " he drifts, a quiet breath sucked through his teeth as he thinks of what he might say to prove the very thing that he has tried for weeks now to disprove : that he and rex lapis remain the same, that the shedding of the exuvia was only that, that though he has been un-shouldered from his burdens he cannot abandon the relationships that have been forged for millennia. he only hopes, then, that in admitting to some semblance of similarity between what he once was and what he will be, that it will allow for something that is built on more than war - time contracts with the adepti. with her.

he remembers when she was small, how easily the half-lin child could be calmed and lulled to sleep with a gentle caress to the horns that serve as the crown of her heritage, and no small part of him wishes to reach out now to quell the doubts that he has left her with. instead, he offers a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes in the same way that his did, and hopes this, too, is enough. " what matters to the adepti is not what shape or form we may take, but what lies within to illumine the body. "