𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘 [hiatus]

𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.

Everyone says that visions are a gift. A recognition from a god, and a chance to become one.

But are visions really such a blessing? Are they not just burdens placed onto unwilling participants, in the guise as an acknowledgment from the holy?

For years, you have asked yourself that. You would stare at your gleaming pyro vision for hours on end, glowing red with passion, the passion you lacked. It mocked you, laughed at you, the red symbol of fire burning you from the inside out.

You remembered the day you received your vision. You were merely singing to yourself one night, a little hobby to pass time.

It was one of those sleepless nights, ones where your mind was restless and where your only company was the moon in the sky.

You were curled in a fetal position, legs up to your chest and cheek on your knees. There was a song your mother used to sing to you, one she had no recollection of hearing but could sing it from start to end perfectly.

"I yearn for you, I'm infatuated with you, I think about you
O' this fruitless love of mine.
My thoughts go to you again and again
O' this yearning grand."

All of a sudden, a bright light appeared in your room, blinding you. When your eyes opened, you saw a pyro vision softly glow.

Most would have been jumping with joy, but you were rather indifferent to it. You supposed it was better than getting one from the Geo Archon, whom your family, and subsequently you, had always been particularly untrusting of.

As of course, with most, if not all, vision holders, they have weapons. Some used catalysts, others swords; some claymores, others bows. The weapon that had fitted you the most was a catalyst, more specifically one that was in the shape of two folding fans, one with the design of the sunset and coloured with the colours of dawn. The other was much lighter, white-blue in colour and with the design of a branch with hanging fruit.

Oddly enough, unlike others with pyro visions, your flames would switch in colour and heat depending on the fan that was being used. The blue one would have red flames, the typical colour and heat, whilst the darker one would have blue flames, much hotter and thus, more dangerous. You rarely used the darker fan, however.

However, you vision was not held in the case that Liyueans had. Yours was in the case of an Inazuman, round and with three smaller circles at the top. It was a clue to your origins, one that you would rather forget.

But alas, the past must catch up with the future, no matter the pace.

Rex Lapis, or rather Zhongli, was a peculiar being. He remembered most, if not all, things in history, yet he could not remember his wallet.

Perhaps it was because he was used to being able to generate mora in the spot, but after giving his gnosis away, he did not have the luxury of being able to do so anymore. However, he was lucky enough to be able to rely on the parlour and Childe to take care of his unpaid bills.

"Oh, I just remembered I have to meet up with someone." Childe set his cutlery aside (he was trying his best to use chopsticks, but they were too hard) and stretched, placing a gloved hand on his neck.

"Is that so?" Zhongli replied, setting his chopsticks on the bowl, taking a napkin to dab at his mouth lightly.

"Yeah, hopefully they weren't waiting too long. Though even if they were and dared to fight me, my hydro would douse their flames in an instant." He smirked. Zhongli only raised an eyebrow in reply.

"Childe," a feminine voice called out, an unamused undertone to it.

"Ah, (Y/N)." He grinned, turning to face you. Zhongli, however froze at the name.

(Y/N)? It couldn't possibly be you... after all these years, I thought that your soul was gone. But if you're here in Liyue, then how could I have not known? Unless...

The gleam of red caught his eye.

Ah, so you weren't born a Liyuean.

"I suppose your lunch was more important than a pre-arranged meeting with me?" You sighed, using one of your your fans to fan yourself. Despite it being rather chilly as of late, your pyro vision did tend to cause your body temperature to go higher than most.

"Heh, sorry. I'm not too late, am I?" He set a large sum of mora on the table, as if asking Zhongli to pay in his place. "I'll be off then, Mr. Zhongli."

"Ah. Sure. See you next time then, Childe." Zhongli cleared his throat, amber eyes trailing your figure. You did not even bat an eye at his direction, immediately walking away once you confirmed that Childe was following.

He realised that your personality might be different, but one thing was for sure: you were as beautiful as he remembered.

Perhaps this time, you could be together just as you dreamed of once upon a time.