𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧

38 - a contract bound in shadows

The polished wooden doors of the upscale restaurant swung open with a whisper, as if even the hinges respected the air of sophistication within. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, and the gentle clattering of utensils harmonized with the animated chatter of patrons immersed in various dialogues. The establishment was an intricate dance of culinary grace and social charm.

Zhongli, draped in his regular attire, which appeared to be a modest blend of simplicity and finesse, stepped into the embrace of this symphony of senses. The wafting fragrance of wine mingled with that of exquisite dishes from all corners of Teyvat. His ancient eyes, deep pools of amber, took in the details, appreciating the finesse of mortal craft.

Also known as Morax, the Geo Archon who shaped the very earth of Liyue, he now walked among the mortals as Zhongli. Disguised as a humble teacher, he cherished these experiences, for being among mortals and sharing in their daily lives fed his eternal spirit in a way that centuries of divine rule never could.

This afternoon, he found himself summoned to this restaurant not for its gastronomical wonders but to satiate a different kind of appetite.

By the large window, where the gentle kiss of the sun bathed an intricately carved table in warm light, sat the enigmatic Vahumana scholar. Her Sumerian attire, though simple, draped her form with an elegance that was almost regal. Scrolls and parchments lay before her, some rolled open revealing ancient texts. A single quill, poised as if ready for battle, stood erect in an inkwell.

As Zhongli approached, her head lifted, and for a fleeting moment, he found himself captured by the intensity of her gaze. Those eyes, sharp and discerning, seemed to bore into him, as if dissecting the layers of history he represented.

Her countenance, though youthful, held a gravitas that felt out of place with her apparent age. The air around her seemed almost charged, as if the echoes of centuries whispered secrets in her ears.

"Mr. Zhongli, I presume?" Her voice was clear as crystal and as cold as ice, cutting through the ambient sounds.

"I am," Zhongli bowed politely. "And you must be the scholar from Sumeru."

"Indeed," she inclined her head. "Please, have a seat."

As they settled into their seats, the waitress gracefully set down a pot of tea. The scholar waved her off with a simple gesture when she attempted to present the menu.

"I have taken the liberty of ordering for both of us. I trust you will find the selection satisfactory," she said, her voice as crisp as the pages she now spread on the table.

She then leaned in, her eyes intent on his. "I've been conducting research on the Archon War, and it was suggested to me by several scholars that you were the one to consult for the most accurate historical accounts."

Zhongli's gaze softened, his eyes hinting at the depths of knowledge he held. "I shall assist you to the best of my abilities, young scholar."

As the scholar raised a cup of tea to her lips, her every movement seemed calculated, like the intricate gears of a precision clock. The aromatic steam curled around her face as she set the cup down, her words guiding the conversation with the deftness of a maestro conducting an orchestra.

Zhongli, on the other hand, was completely unaware of the underlying rhythm she was weaving. His tall figure, adorned in simple yet elegant garments, exuded an aura of wisdom. His amber eyes, usually akin to tranquil pools reflecting depth beyond comprehension, remained unwavering as the scholar navigated the currents of their conversation.

"Mr. Zhongli," she began with a voice reminiscent of turning pages, "I have encountered discrepancies in historical accounts regarding the genesis of Mora. Some records portray the Geo Archon as its sole architect, while others attribute a pivotal role to the Adepti. Might you elucidate this conundrum?" She posed the question with an air of genuine curiosity, the subtlest hint of earnestness in her voice.