return and departure | genshin impact | zhongli & guizhong

return and departure

Two gods stand upon a mountaintop, overlooking the sea. It is neither the first nor the last time they cross paths, but it is the beginning of a contract of sorts. One rules the earth itself, the very ground and stone; the other rules nothing but sees everything under the domain of the stars. To send the land of stone's history to the far-flung stars—this is the nature of his request. She does not request anything in return.

The taste of salt lingers in the air, though whether this is a natural byproduct of the ocean or a remnant of a bygone god, neither can tell. They are gods, but they are both the most human they have ever been. There is a resolute silence between them, perhaps respect for one's final farewell. But silence cannot last forever.

She speaks first.

"Do you ever grow tired?" she asks. "After all these years?"

Neither turns their head towards the other. They remain side-by-side, eyes on the horizon.

"If my suppositions are correct, you are far older than I," he replies.

A smile covers a myriad of emotions, and her eyes drift shut. "Perhaps. But it's different when you travel. Time doesn't mean as much. You watched your world change before your eyes, and I can't even recall a world that I would call my own. You guided your people, watched their story unfold."

She turns to him now, timeless eyes meeting those worn by millennia. "We... we made mistakes. We ruined worlds, sending them spiraling down paths they never needed to take before simply moving on. I'm sure I would feel much older if we had stuck around to deal with the consequences of our choices."

"And yet they live in your memory," he says. "Do not mistake this for a blessing. There is much closure to be found in the passing of time."

Their gazes return to the sea, thick silence blanketing the air. Again, she speaks first.

"Do you want to be alone, now?"

It is his turn to smile. "No," he murmurs, a rumbling voice nearly lost amidst the whipping winds. "I find that I am growing tired of solitude these days."

Sorrow glimmers in golden eyes as they study the depths of the waves. "Have you always been this lonely?"

"Not always. I too had great companions, in times past."

"The adepti?"

He clears his throat. "You are, of course, familiar with the Guizhong Ballista. The inventor—and namesake—was a dear friend of mine."

"Guizhong," she echoes. "The God of Dust."

He nods, lips then settling into a soft frown. Memories flit by, gracing the silence with moments long passed. He has not seen her face in thousands of years; one day, he fears, he will forget it entirely. Even further in the future, could he forget her altogether?

The traveler, at his side with a curious expression, reminds him of his lost love. He sees her there, among the wise, bright eyes and fierce determination, arms adorned with pure white sleeves. The traveler's sleeves are far shorter and more practical, but this is a fitting reflection of their differences. The traveler stands before him, eons of history crammed into a small frame. She carries her determination with care, always looking towards a goal. Guizhong stands before him in a memory, tall frame swallowed by billowing sleeves of silk, smooth as water. They were entirely impractical, often dragging across the ground as she walked, but she never seemed to mind. Though she was intelligent, she sought enjoyment far more often than enlightenment.

Perhaps her memory is not so lost after all.

He sees her everywhere he goes, gentle reminders on the breezes of Liyue, fleeting portraits in the harbor city. He sees her in the young chef at Wanmin restaurant, who always ensures her patrons leave satisfied. He remembers a story about that chef, who upon learning that a great ship of Fatui would dock in their wharf took it upon herself to study the cuisine of their homeland. After several days of hard work, he had received her prayer that they would enjoy it.