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He awoke to a soft bed, in a warm, lightly furnished room. Blankets covered the length of his body, and his limbs felt pleasantly heavy from all the comforts bestowed upon him. Yellow lamps cast a faux fiery glow across the room, but there was hardly anything to illuminate; just a small dresser, the rectangular carpet on the floor, and the chair pulled near the bed.
He sat up slowly, a dull headache throbbing in his temples after falling unconscious for so long. His hair was loose and uncombed, and he absentmindedly ran a hand through it. Not too far away, Zhongli sat on the chair, the glow of the lamps casting a shadow across his face. "Innamorati," the man said his name slowly, almost as though he was waiting to be corrected. Whatever for, perhaps he'd never know.
"Zhongli," Innamorati greeted back, his mask obscuring his frown. He tugged the blanket up to his chin, and pulled his knees up. "And where am I, exactly?"
"Qingce Village," he replied softly. "I brought Xue here, as well. After you fainted, and you refused to wake for a while, I figured I'd bring you to a safe location."
Prior to his vacation, Innamorati had pored over maps of Liyue, just in case he'd gotten lost. So he knew that Qingce Village was not only east of Wangshu Inn and away from the harbor, but also very far away. "How long was I unconscious, then?"
He was quiet for a moment. "Don't worry about that," he eventually said. "There are bigger problems to focus on." Zhongli fished around in his pockets and fished out a black statuette, the size of his palm. Crimson engravings formed the vague figure of a hooded, horned man with a single ruby eye and a larger blood-red gemstone at the bottom.
"That's..." He'd seen them a few times, when he'd fallen into the Abyss. Idols of their one-eyed king, or so he presumed, which the Abyss Order fanatically revered. Zhongli dropped the statuette into Innamorati's outstretched hand, and he examined the object carefully.
"An Abyss Herald came after you when you were unconscious," Zhongli revealed, and Innamorati scoffed.
"And you fought it off by yourself? That must've been quite the hassle, O great adeptus."
"Hardly. When it comes to protecting you, even the most difficult of ordeals are a pleasure, my dear Innamorati." Zhongli smiled at him, yet Innamorati's mocking curve faded from his lips.
He quickly changed the subject. "This Abyss Herald... Do you know why it was there?"
"No. I didn't get a chance to interrogate it before it died." Zhongli's face was impassive and unreadable, but the way he spoke of the Abyss Herald like it was a cockroach made Innamorati's eyebrows raise.
"Right..." Innamorati trailed off. "Thank you for saving me, then."
"Of course," Zhongli replied softly. "But if you don't mind me asking, does this happen often?"
"No, I've never even seen an Abyss Herald before," Innamorati lied, but it had some truth to it. Yes, he'd dealt with Abyss Heralds (and Lectors, by extension), but it wasn't frequent. Truthfully, he had no idea why they'd seek him out.
