Those Who Share the Memory

8.

The war in Teyvat still raged as strong as ever. Each day, gods fell and new gods rose. But in the end, there would only be seven victors in the war.

Seven seats had been promised.

Seven treasures offered.

In a war made for the gods, mortal lives were also affected.

There was much to gain, but even more to lose.

In a village in Liyue, a woman clutched her daughter as a monstrous beast moved to swipe them with its sharp claws. In Inazuma, lightning pelted down, leaving behind only the ashes and tattered fabric. A sandstorm grew stronger, picking up the sand of the Sumeran desert. In Fontaine, the waters were broken by the movements of a large beast gliding across its surface.

In Mondstadt, the wind howled in pain.

•┈••✦ ✧ ✦••┈•

The meeting between Morax and Barbatos had been short, much shorter than Morax's usual business meetings, and yet he couldn't stop thinking about the other god. The way his braids swayed with the wind to a rhythmic hum; the way his pouty lips gently parted when taking a sip of wine; the way the other god seemed as if he couldn't ever be tethered to the ground.

There was something special, Morax thought, about the new god. Young and lively - perhaps too much so - the god reminded him of the birds that flew across the skies of Liyue and the waters that splashed against the cliffed edges of Liyue and lapped its sandy banks. It was rare for the water to be still - it was always alive, thrashing and twisting and turning. Ripples disturbed its surface, glazing across and bouncing against other ripples. But what the god reminded him the most of was the wind.

Unlike the bodies of water on the ground, the wind was free to travel wherever it wanted - in open skies or in the hidden nooks and crannies of the rocks. It seemed to constantly wear and tear the earth, and where the earth became weary, the wind never tired. And here, he was the earth, and Barbatos, the wind.

It was unlike the earth to be moved so quickly, and yet he couldn't help but feel as if he had been swept off his feet by a sudden gust of wind. For the briefest of moments, the image of another who had entered his life dramatically like the wind and left just as quickly flashed in his mind. His hands gently stroked his chin as he stared across the lands of Liyue, over the tall mountain peaks, over the ruins that sprinkled the plains, and over to where the sky and the waters converged. He wondered when he would see the other god again. He doubted it would be anytime soon - they, as gods, had their own duties, and while they were newly contracted allies, the relationship between Monstadt and Liyue held minimal substance. He imagined that it would be a bother to Barbatos if he travelled to Mondstadt so soon after their last meeting.

He'd have to ask Guizhong what she thought later. With a hum, he pulled out his polearm and swung it. The perfect angle, the precise amount of power, the carefully calculated arc of his arm, the control of his wrist and grip - the move had been practised over and over.

The ground split open in front of him, and where he had once stood was now a dragon piercing through the sky, brown and golden scales shimmering under the sun's gaze.

•┈••✦ ✧ ✦••┈•

Guizhong could sense a difference in her friend. Morax had always been the brawns, the ruthless and brutish one, the one whose weapon acted for them. And while she had grown to see a different side of him - the gentle side of him in which his love for Liyue peeked out under his mask of coldness - Morax's gaze seemed to be much softer than usual.