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If you knew you were going to die, how would you spend your final moments?
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Zhongli wakes to the faint scent of Glaze Lilies and Silk Flower perfume, tangled up in the bedsheets, Guizhong’s arms around him. Soft sunlight leaks through the semi-transparent curtains, illuminating her in a golden, ethereal glow.
“You’re beautiful,” he tells her, and tries to ease himself out of bed. She wraps herself tighter around his midsection and mumbles something incoherent. He cracks a faint smile.
“I know,” he says. “But I must hold my morning war meeting, to see what parts of the Assembly has been attacked overnight.”
“Barely…past…sunrise,” Guizhong mumbles again, clinging onto him with her eyes still closed.
Zhongli hums. “You stayed up all night in the workshop again, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t mean to…” Guizhong yawns. “I just thought I’d…spend an extra…” she yawns again, “…hour on the…field tillers. Next thing I knew…it was almost light outside.”
“Get some rest, then,” Zhongli says with a laugh. “I’ll be back after the war meeting.”
“Mm, meet me in the city afterwards?” Guizhong says. She cracks open an eye.
“How could I refuse?” He kisses the top of her head, and she reluctantly relinquishes her hold on him so he can get dressed. He dons his usual robes and flips up the hood.
The trek across Guili Plains from their abode is not a long one, and he finds himself stopping briefly to admire the Glaze Lilies yet to bloom, their buds furled tight against the morning chill. He thinks he sees dark clouds on the horizon.
A storm is coming, he muses, but pays it no mind.
His Adepti had already showed themselves into the war room by the time he arrived. He lets his gaze wander around the table, counting heads, and lowers his hood when he is sure that everyone is present.
“Good morning,” he says. “I will try to keep things brief, as always. I know you all have your duties to attend to.” He flattens his palms on the table. “What news from our borders last night?”
“Our eastern borders were hit hard, Dijun,” Bosacius says. “My siblings and I had been on patrol in the north and east. Bonanus sensed that something was amiss along the river and called for aid. We were met with dozens of Hydro mimics.”
“Any casualties? Damages to the settlements?” Zhongli asks.
“None, my lord,” Bosacius says. “Though I fear we’re likely to be met with more attacks.”
“Osial has been growing bolder,” Zhongli says. “He knows we cannot retaliate without leaving the Assembly unguarded. I will write to him shortly. If he wishes to make an enemy of us, so be it. What of other gods in the region?”
“Havria has conceded her lands north of Sal Terrae,” Mountain Shaper says. “One believes she has caved to pressure from an unknown god further north of Stone Gate.”
Zhongli sighs. “She must realise that she cannot hope to keep this up. Sooner or later, she will run out of land to concede, or she will meet a god who decides that they will not be content with what little land she has given them.” He looks at her territory across the river. “Though, I suppose, it is fortunate for us that she has neither the military power nor intention to attack our borders.”
“Will we be sending reinforcements to Sal Terrae?” Moon Carver asks.
Guizhong would.
“Yes. Send two thousand spears across the river,” Zhongli says. “You’re to depart immediately.”
“As you wish, Dijun.” Moon Carver bows and backs out of the room.
“The rest of you will continue your patrols as usual, then,” Zhongli continues. “Is there anything else I should know about?”
“Us…Yakshas…” Bosacius says carefully. “We’re exhausted from the battle last night, Dijun. Should more mimics attack today, I’m…unsure we will be able to keep them at bay alone.”
Zhongli nods. “I will lend you my aid personally.”
Guizhong would have to do without his company this morning, regrettably, but he knows that she would understand. He turns up his hood once more and gestures for the Yakshas to lead the way.
Once outside the city, they make good time across the plains, crossing lush fields of blue and green. Bosacius moves at the head of the group, Nuo mask swinging at his hip in time with his footsteps.
Zhongli finds himself walking alongside Xiao. The Anemo Yaksha spares a brief glance at him before finding something interesting to fiddle with on his gloves.
“How have you been settling in, Xiao?” he asks. “I know it’s different. But more comfortable, I hope?”
“Yes,” Xiao says. “Everyone has been kind to me, especially Lady Guizhong. I do not deserve it.”
Zhongli frowns. “What makes you think you are undeserving of kindness?”
“You have seen the things I’ve done, Dijun,” Xiao says. “You know I am a monster. Why did you spare me that day, on the battlefield?”
“Your actions were not your own. You were deserving of a second chance, and you have proven yourself,” Zhongli says.
Xiao does not reply.
There are no enemies in sight when they arrive at the river. Bosacius immediately gets to work, spreading the Yakshas along the water’s edge, while Zhongli shifts into his dragon form and flies up to do reconnaissance. He knows Osial would not give up so easily after a single failed attack; that he had not yet sent more mimics was concerning, at best. The ocean overlord was up to something.
A blur of blue barrels into him. Searing pain tears through his shoulder as he’s knocked clean out of the sky.
By the time he comes to his senses, he’s lying in a small crater and Xiao had leapt into the air above him to dispatch the Hydro birds. Zhongli shifts into his mortal form and summons his spear.
I should have stayed on the ground.
But now was not the time to have regrets. He shields the Yakshas around him before sending a shockwave through the ground, resonating against the earth itself. The Hydro mimics on land dissipate with silent pops. The ones still on the river, as well as the birds that knocked him down, appear to remain unharmed. He wonders if he should have brought Cloud Retainer with him.
A blast of Pyro sails through the air and vaporises one of the birds. He looks back to see Indarias, flames dancing across her hands, hair swept behind her as she draws on her powers to dispatch the flying mimics. Zhongli dismisses his spear and replaces it with a bow to help snipe the mimics from afar.
Slowly, bit by bit, the mimics’ numbers dwindle, and he finishes off the stragglers with a few well-placed shots. Indarias’ mask disappears from her face and reappears again at her hip.
“Well fought, Yakshas,” he says. “Though I fear this is not the end. Osial will not take kindly to this loss. We must stay vigilant.”
“Dijun, you should find someone to treat your shoulder,” Bosacius says.
Zhongli glances down at the offending injury and discovers, to his shock, that a huge patch of crimson had soaked through his robes, trickling down his arm, dripping blood everywhere. He sighs and presses a hand to the cut as if it might staunch the flow.
“I won’t be long,” he says. “Do not hesitate to contact me if the mimics return.”
***
“Ow.”
“I haven’t even touched you.” Guizhong flicks his nose and gently pries his hand away from his wounded shoulder. She draws in a sharp breath.
That’s not good.
“You really should be more careful,” she continues, reaching for a rag to clean the injury with. “If anything happened to you, I–” She cuts herself off.
“You needn’t worry,” Zhongli says. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”
“I know, I can’t help it,” Guizhong says. She wipes blood away from the cut slowly, careful not to touch the wound itself, but Zhongli lets out a hiss of pain anyway at the contact. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
She lowers the rag and picks up the suturing needle. Zhongli grimaces at the first stitch.
“Apologies for troubling you,” he says. “I said that I would meet you in the city after the war meeting, now I come to bother you bleeding all over your workshop floor.”
Guizhong only smiles. “Nothing that hasn’t happened before, my love. Still, if you feel that bad about it, you can make it up to me later.”
“Oh? And whatever shall you accept as compensation for your time?” Zhongli asks.
“Hmm. For now, how about a kiss?” Guizhong says.
“For you, my kisses are free. But far be it for me to deny such a request.” Zhongli leans over and pecks her on the cheek.
“You’re wonderful.” Guizhong ties off the final stitch and dresses his wound. “Give your shoulder a rest. I don’t want to see you back here because you’ve torn open my hard work again.”
Zhongli groans. “You know I can’t control whether or not we get attacked.”
“How many times must I tell you that the Adepti are perfectly capable of stepping in?” Guizhong sighs fondly. “You ought to give them more credit.”
“I…I know. I only worry that one day, it will not be enough. Every battle I fight, I wonder what will go wrong were I absent from the front.”
“What if we swapped roles for the afternoon?”
Zhongli blinks.
“I’ll take up patrolling around the border. You finish whatever administrative work I haven’t yet finished, and rest your shoulder while you’re at it,” Guizhong continues.
“It’s—” Zhongli cuts himself off. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
“I’ll be fine!” Guizhong says. “I’m not totally incompetent with a blade, you know.”
“I know,” Zhongli says, remembering their sparring sessions. “I just…worry.”
“Trust me,” Guizhong says.
“You know I do,” Zhongli says. He gives a defeated sigh. “At least…patrol with Cloud Retainer.”
“If it makes you feel more at ease.”
“And let me know if there’s trouble.”
“Of course.” Guizhong cups his cheek with one hand. “All the documents are on my desk. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, don’t worry. Just rest up and don’t strain your shoulder too much.” She kisses the top of his head. He grabs her hand before she can disappear.
“Be careful. Please.”
“I will.”
***
He’s about halfway through Guizhong’s stack of documents when he senses a message from Moon Carver, reporting from Sal Terrae. Under any normal circumstances, he would have sent a quick response, asking for a full report when the stag returned, but something felt…wrong.
Has something happened to Havria?
Zhongli lowers his quill to answer the message. There’s a beat, and then he feels himself being pulled into Moon Carver’s dreamscape.
“Dijun, one must apologise for disturbing you,” the stag says, facing him. “We have arrived at Sal Terrae, as you ordered. The city has been abandoned, and the underground domain desecrated. Havria is dead.”
Zhongli feels his stomach drop. “That is grim news indeed. What of the god who slew her? Have you encountered any opposition?”
“None,” Moon Carver says. “One believes that she was…betrayed. Slain by her own people. Most have been wiped out by the ensuing energy explosion.”
“Her own people…?” Zhongli’s blood runs cold. “What of the survivors?”
“One believes that they have fled and scattered,” Moon Carver says.
Her people must have seen that she could not protect them.
“Pull your forces back,” Zhongli says. “There’s nothing more for you to do there. I will relay the news to Guizhong. We will discuss the best course of action.”
“As you command, Dijun.” Moon Carver bows, and the dreamscape crumbles.
…Zhongli? Zhongli!
He finds himself back at Guizhong’s desk with another message, this time from her. Zhongli stands so fast that he knocks his chair over.
“I’m coming,” he says.
Zhongli, WAIT—
The rest of her message is drowned by his own adrenaline and blood pumping in his ears as he takes off like an arrow towards the border.
It doesn’t take him long to spot the raging battle across the south; the Hydro mimics and sea monsters attacking their borders were a dead giveaway. Thunder rumbles overhead, and the heavens open up moments later, drenching the battlefield, threatening to flood the plains. Water runs off his scales and stings his eyes. He squints through the storm, trying to pinpoint Guizhong’s location, but he’s soon forced to land to avoid being swept away by the high winds.
“Guizhong!” he shouts into the battlefield, hoping against hope for a response. The only answer he receives is the deafening patter of rain and the ring of steel around him. Zhongli summons his spear and begins cutting his way through the battlefield.
Guizhong, where are you?
They were losing ground fast. With Moon Carver and two thousand troops still returning from Sal Terrae, Osial’s forces had them far outnumbered. He curses himself for being such a fool. A scouting party would have sufficed without any word from Havria asking for their support directly.
Zhongli? You need…evacuate…
Zhongli cuts down another mimic and focuses on her presence. It takes a moment before he senses her, in the thick of battle, not far from his location. At least a dozen mimics and sea monsters stand between them.
A snarl tears from the back of his throat as he lunges into the fray.
His first opponent is a boar mimic that charges him head-on. He sidesteps it, twirls his spear, and slices it apart in a single strike. A tentacled sea monster jumps him from the right. Zhongli ducks under the strike and opens its throat in a single move. He can see her now, jade sword cutting through swathes of enemies as she defended her position. Cloud Retainer fights by her side, Cryo attacks freezing most of the mimics from afar, long before they can even pose a threat.
Yet more were coming. Zhongli cuts down a crane mimic without breaking stride. He can see two more monsters approaching them, shields raised to deflect Retainer’s Cryo blasts. If he didn’t get to them soon—
But perhaps it was fated that he would never make it to Guizhong’s position.
Mere steps away from the attacking monsters, he’s knocked to the ground, pain radiating through his shoulder and down his arm like hot coals. He rolls onto his front reflexively to dodge his mystery opponent’s next strike and manages to scramble to his feet. Crimson is already spreading across his robes when he glances at his earlier injury; the blow and subsequent landing must have torn his stitches open. Zhongli knocks aside an incoming swing before it cans slit his throat. His opponent is still nowhere to be found.
It has to be Osial. Only he would resort to such underhanded tactics.
He has no time to think on it. The two attacking sea monsters reach Guizhong’s position as he looks on, and one of them quickly dispatches Cloud Retainer with a swing of its greatsword.
Zhongli runs.
Guizhong manages to cut down the first with ease, but the second lands a cut across her arm, forcing her to switch hands. She parries its next blow with some difficulty as she’s forced backwards.
I’m not going to make it.
He gathers Geo energy in his hand, charging his shield, ready to cast it on her as soon as he’s in range. Just a few more steps—
The tip of a spear punches clean through his chest. His body screams at him to connect with the earth again, to feel Geo beneath his fingertips, but the earth does not answer him. He’s forced to watch on in horror as the sea monster ahead lifts its greatsword and brings it down on Guizhong.
She crumples unceremoniously.
“Did you miss me?”
He falls to his knees. The spear tip is pulled from his chest, and Osial appears before him, blue hair matted with blood.
“It was only a matter of time, you know,” the ocean overlord says. “Now all that’s left is to…wipe out your pathetic group of humans…and take the land for myself. Maybe I’ll turn this place into a nice coral reef, who knows.” He pats Zhongli on the cheek and disappears in a flash of Hydro energy.
No, he can’t…get away with this.
It takes no small amount of effort, but he eventually crawls his way to Guizhong’s side and lays down on his back in the rainwater and grass.
I’m sorry.
He supposes, if they are fated to die here, it was a small comfort for them to go together.
Zhongli takes her hand and closes his eyes.
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Zhongli wakes to the faint scent of Glaze Lilies and Silk Flower perfume, tangled up in the bedsheets, a warm body pressed up against his side. Soft sunlight seeps through the semi-transparent curtains, illuminating the room in a warm, golden glow. He turns his head to see Guizhong fast asleep beside him, pinning his left arm beneath her.
Wait.
Zhongli sits bolt upright.
“Zhongli…?” Guizhong cracks open an eye and looks up sleepily. “What’s wrong? Another nightmare?”
“I—” Zhongli pats down the front of his chest as if he might find that gaping wound from Osial’s spear.
Yes, it must have been a nightmare.
“I…think so,” he says.
Guizhong yawns and sits up. “Do you…want to tell me about it?”
“…it was just a dream,” Zhongli says. “We both failed. The Assembly fell.” He offers her a stiff smile and kisses the top of her head. “Apologies for waking you. Get some rest, I know you spent all night in your workshop again.”
“Guilty as charged…” Guizhong yawns again. “I suppose you’re off to your war meeting.”
“I won’t be long,” Zhongli says.
“Meet me in the city afterwards?” Guizhong asks.
What…?
“I…of course.” He climbs out of bed and pulls on his robes.
I’ve been here before.
Storm clouds gather on the horizon as he makes his way from their abode, holding the promise of rain. Around him, the Glaze Lilies huddle together, buds furled tight against the morning chill. Zhongli stops to admire some of them briefly.
Why does this feel familiar?
He shakes his head. The walk between their abode and the city was one he’d taken countless times before. Guizhong stopped to look at the flowers so often that he was certain he must have picked up the habit from her. That he finds this route familiar should be of no surprise, really.
Zhongli enters the war room to find his Adepti already gathered. He takes his spot at the head of the table, counts their numbers, and lowers his hood.
“Good morning,” he says. “I will try to keep things brief, as always. I know you all have duties to attend to. What news from our borders last night?”
“Hydro mimics attacked our eastern borders last night,” Bosacius says. “We were hit hard there. Bonanus sensed that something was amiss and called for reinforcements.”
Hydro mimics in the east…
Zhongli blinks. He could almost swear that he’d heard the same report not long ago…
“What of the casualties? Damages to infrastructure?” he asks.
“None, my lord,” Bosacius says. “We were able to stop them before they even got close, but I do not believe we are safe yet.”
“Yes, Osial is likely to strike again,” Zhongli says. “I should write to him. If he wishes to make an enemy of the Assembly, then so be it. Any news from the other gods?”
“Havria has conceded her lands north of Sal Terrae,” Mountain Shaper says. “One believes she is responding to pressure from a new enemy near Stone Gate.”
Zhongli sighs. “She cannot keep making concessions like this. At this rate, she’ll have no land left to give before half the gods around her are dead.”
Her people have betrayed her. Moon Carver found her remains.
He frowns. Havria was still alive the last time they talked, barely three days ago. She hadn’t said anything of giving up more land. Her people hadn’t shown any sign of insurgency.
Yet he can’t shake the feeling of déjà vu that had fallen over his memories like a blanket.
“…Dijun? Will we be sending aid?” Moon Carver asks.
Zhongli forces himself to focus. “Yes. Send two thousand spears…”
A nagging feeling in his chest told him that he was wasting his resources.
“Cancel that order,” he says. “Go alone and ascertain the situation first. If Havria is in need of our aid, I will personally march two thousand spears to Sal Terrae.”
“As you command, Dijun.” Moon Carver bows and exits the room.
“The rest of you will resume your usual duties, then,” Zhongli says. “Are there any other issues any of you wish me to address?”
“My siblings and I…we have spent the night fighting Osial’s mimics,” Bosacius says. “Most of us are exhausted, Dijun. It’s…unlikely that we will be able to hold back another attack on our own.”
“I’ll…” Zhongli trails off. A twinge of phantom pain burns through his shoulder and is gone again just as quickly. He finds himself rubbing the joint. “I’ll join you.”
Bosacius bows. “It is an honour, Dijun.”
Part of him regrets that he would not be able to meet with Guizhong in the city this morning, but he knew that she would understand. They both understood the necessity of emergency measures in wartime.
He chats to Xiao en route to the river; the young Adeptus had only been freed from his former master’s service a few months ago and had difficulty adjusting at first. Xiao eventually reveals that Guizhong had been teaching him to play the flute.
“That’s great!” Zhongli says. “Have you been enjoying it?”
“It’s…difficult sometimes,” Xiao says. “But in a good way. I like it.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Zhongli says. “You’ll have to tell me all about it after we secure the border.”
There are no sign of any mimics when they reach the river, but Bosacius gets to work anyway, organising the Yakshas into teams and spreading them out to monitor activity on the water’s surface.
Zhongli flies up to get to a better vantage point.
Last time—
He shakes his head. Last time, he’d been ambushed by a Hydro bird and knocked out of the sky.
No, it happened in my dream—
Razor-sharp talons rake across his shoulder and almost sends him tumbling to the ground. He steadies himself at the last possible second, twisting around to slice his attacker into ribbons of water.
Down below, he sees dozens of mimics materialise on the river, partially hidden from the Yakshas’ view by the rushing rapids. He shouts a warning, and they spring into action immediately. Two mimics are gone in the time it takes him to blink. Five more birds swoop at him to prevent him from landing. He tears through two with a swipe of his claws and takes out the rest with a Geo blast. The Yakshas below him make short work of the mimics on the ground.
“Indarias, finish the ones on the river!” he calls. The Pyro Yaksha draws upon her flames immediately to snipe the remaining mimics from afar, and Zhongli shifts back into his mortal form to assist with his bow.
“We owe you our thanks, Dijun,” Bosacius says. “Had you not been observing from the skies, we would have been ambushed for sure.”
“I require no thanks,” Zhongli says. “We must keep our guard up. Osial will not take kindly to this defeat. He is sure to try again.”
“Leave the border patrol to us, Dijun,” Xiao says. “You should…get your shoulder treated.”
Zhongli looks down at the injury and discovers that it is almost identical to the injury he had sustained in his dream.
It…wasn’t a simple dream?
Could his ‘dream’ last night have been some kind of premonition? And if so, did that mean…
“I…won’t be long,” he tells the Yakshas. “Let me know if the mimics return.”
***
He finds Guizhong in her workshop again, scribbling away on a piece of blueprint parchment, pausing every now and then to check something in her open notebook. Normally, he would have stayed quiet for a few moments longer, watching her work, but seeing her now only confirmed his suspicions.
“Gui,” he says. She turns her head, sees him, and drops everything to sit him down in a chair.
“Celestia above, you’re bleeding everywhere,” she says. “What happened? I figured you were dealing with an attack on our borders when you didn’t show this morning, but…”
“Hydro mimics,” Zhongli says. Guizhong reaches for her medical supplies. “Ow.”
She flicks his nose. “I haven’t even touched you.”
“Guizhong, have you…” Zhongli begins, as she pries his hand away from his shoulder and draws in a sharp breath. “Have you…ever had a dream that came true? Like…some kind of premonition?”
Her hand freezes, hovering inches from his shoulder. “…where is this coming from, my love? Is this about your nightmare?”
“Yes,” he confesses. “In the dream, I helped the Yakshas defend the eastern border from Osial’s mimics. The exact same sequence of events just happened…rather, they would have, had I not taken measures to improve the outcome of the battle. I was wounded in almost the exact same way. Thinking back now, I realised that my morning had also unfolded exactly according to my dream.”
“And you believe the rest of today will unfold the same way?” Guizhong asks. “With both of us failing to protect the Assembly?”
“That’s not…” Zhongli hisses as she wipes blood from his wound. He hesitates. “I…yes. I cannot allow any harm to come to you or our people.”
In the dream, you and I both died. He doesn’t voice it out loud.
“Well, I have had similar dreams in the past,” Guizhong says. “I saw the Assembly drowned in floodwaters at Osial’s hand or burned to the ground at the hands of another god. But it was just a dream.”
“Then…how do you explain all that’s happened today?” Zhongli asks.
Guizhong is quiet for a few moments. “Dreams are often an extension of our reality. Perhaps what you saw was not an exact copy of today’s events, but the two are similar enough that, in your mind’s eye, they are one and the same.”
She finishes stitching up his shoulder and bandages it carefully, and he manages a small smile.
“You ought to be more careful next time,” she says. “Why don’t I take over your patrols for the afternoon while—”
“No,” he says immediately. Guizhong blinks. “I…I mean, I am perfectly capable of patrolling. You do not need to take over.”
“Get some rest,” Guizhong says. “You can finish my paperwork as a trade-off. I fear you’ll tear your stitches if you run into trouble on patrol.”
“You…” Zhongli looks away. “In my dream, you suggested that we swap roles for the afternoon. When the attack came…I was too far from the front to be of any help until it was too late.”
“And what good would you do on the front with an injury like that?” Guizhong scolds gently. “If this battle is as fierce as you say, and it does happen this afternoon, you’ll wear yourself out before its end. What’s to say the result won’t be the same?”
“The difference is that you’ll be safe,” Zhongli says.
“You don’t know what will happen if you do go on patrol.”
“Please.”
Her eyes dart across his, as if searching for an invisible answer there. She drops her gaze. Zhongli realises that he’d grabbed a handful of the loose fabric on her sleeve and held on tight. He releases her awkwardly, but she doesn’t pull away, instead cupping his face with both hands.
“I’ll take Cloud Retainer with me,” she says. “We’ll have a look at the roster and swap out for a safer route closer to the city. Please rest.”
Zhongli relents, as he always does, for he has never been able to deny her anything she asked of him.
“If you see anything unusual—” he begins.
“I know. I’ll be careful.” Guizhong smiles. “All the paperwork is on my desk. Don’t worry if you can’t get through everything, I was planning on doing half tomorrow anyway.” She leaves him with a peck on the cheek.
I hope I’m wrong about today, Zhongli thinks.
***
He’s once again halfway through Guizhong’s stack of work when Moon Carver contacts him. For a moment, he considers asking the stag to provide a full report on his return, but then he remembered the news of Havria’s demise in his dream and knew that he could not afford to wait. If Havria was still alive and needed reinforcements, there was no time to waste.
What news from Sal Terrae?
There’s a pause, and then he finds himself pulled into Moon Carver’s dreamscape.
“Apologies for the interruption, Dijun,” the stag says, appearing before him. “One has conducted a full sweep of Sal Terrae. The city appears to be abandoned. Havria has been slain.”
“How?” Zhongli asks, though he already knows the answer, and dreaded to hear it.
“One believes that she died at the hands of a human,” Moon Carver says. “Betrayed by her own people.”
Of course. This was what happened in the dream.
“…I see,” Zhongli says. “Return to the Assembly. There is nothing more to be done.”
“As you command, Dijun.”
The dreamscape crumbles.
…Zhongli?
He jolts awake again, sensing another message, this time from Guizhong.
Something’s coming, you were right—
“I’m on my way,” he says.
No, Zhongli, WAIT—
He never hears the rest of the sentence; the spiking adrenaline and blood pumping in his ears drowned out whatever was left of her message as he shot off like an arrow towards the southern border.
Zhongli finds, just like his dream, that Hydro mimics and sea monsters have swarmed their defences. Rainwater stings his eyes as he fights his way through the enemy ranks, trying to stabilise their line, shouting orders and hoping the two thousand spears he withheld from Sal Terrae were enough to turn the battle. Guizhong is nowhere to be seen.
Gui, where are you?
One of the Hydro cranes sends a blast of water at him. He brings up a shield just in time to tank the hit, Geo shockwave rippling out at the same time to smash through the surrounding mimics. Reinforcements charge past him to help hold the line they’d established.
Zhongli, river…under attack…you…evacuate…
Again, he finds that he misses most of her message. But he does manage to pinpoint her location again, this time closer to the eastern border along the river.
“Hold on, Gui, I’ll be right there.”
Zhongli—
A Hydro bird swipes at him as he shifts and takes off. He dodges it easily and slashes it into droplets with his claw. Fighting the strong winds, he manages to make it halfway before being forced to land, scales and mane dripping wet. He resolves to continue on foot.
They were fighting a losing battle in the east. With the majority of their forces dealing with the attack from the south, their eastern defences were quickly being torn to shreds. Zhongli sees a crane Adeptus flying one of his injured comrades to safety. He cuts down a charging boar and scans the area again.
There.
Guizhong stands in the thick of it all, jade sword shining green against the blues of the Hydro mimics. Cloud Retainer fights beside her, as she had in the dream, Cryo attacks freezing mimics before they could get close. Zhongli counts at least a dozen enemies between himself and Guizhong.
I have to make it this time.
He shields himself before lunging forward this time, tearing through two duck mimics. A frog mimic further on sends a rippling shockwave of Hydro at him. He walks through it, throws his spear, and impales the creature through the face. It explodes into another shockwave, and he lets his shield absorb the damage again before casting a new one. Three more birds swoop down. His spear makes quick work of them.
“Guizhong!” he yells. She turns, sees him, and beckons to Cloud Retainer. They change angles and begin fighting their way toward him. Zhongli slices apart two more boar mimics before stretching out a hand, ready to shield them both as soon as they were within range.
Half a dozen sea monsters emerge from the river to intercept them. He throws his spear and takes out the first before impaling the second on a Geo projectile. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Guizhong take the head off a third monster, but a well-timed swing from the fourth sends Cloud Retainer flying. The crane lands on her side a few feet away and doesn’t get back up. Guizhong turns just in time to parry another blow.
A Hydro-infused arrow punches through his shield and explodes in his face, launching him backwards. He lands on his injured shoulder with a gasp of pain and rolls onto all fours, lifting a hand to refresh his shield.
Osial’s here.
Zhongli scrambles to his feet just in time to see a second arrow embed itself in Guizhong’s chest.
“No—”
A familiar-looking spear tip pierces through his sternum. He falls to his knees again with a grunt.
“Miss me?” Osial appears before him, wearing that infuriating smirk. “Terrible shame our battle was so short, I would have liked to see you suffer a little.” He pats Zhongli’s cheek and moves off.
The nightmare’s…come true…
He’d failed again. He’d been given a chance to change this, to save the Assembly, and he hadn’t trusted his instincts until it was too late.
I’m sorry, Gui.
He rolls onto his back and closes his eyes.
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Zhongli wakes once again to soft sunlight spilling through the semi-transparent curtains of his abode, and realises with growing dread that the other side of the bed is empty. He sits up, hand flying to his chest, only to discover that the wound he thought he’d sustained was no longer there. His shoulder, too, was completely healed.
What…?
He throws on a set of robes and stumbles into Guizhong’s workshop.
She’s slumped over her desk when he enters, clearly having fallen asleep in the midst of drawing up another blueprint; he can see the parchment peeking out from under her arm. Zhongli lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding and returns with a blanket to drape over her shoulders.
Something isn’t right. You died last night. You both died.
“…li?” Guizhong mumbles without making any move to get up.
“Get some rest.” Zhongli kisses the top of her head gently. “I’m off to a war meeting. See you in the city afterwards…” He frowns. “…or not, if there’s an emergency at the border.”
There will be. Osial attacked yesterday and he will do so again.
His Adepti had already gathered by the time he showed himself into the war room. Bosacius explains, unsurprisingly, that Osial’s mimics had attacked the eastern border, and requests for reinforcements in case of another attempt. Mountain Shaper, meanwhile, reports that Havria had conceded some of her land in response to pressure from the north. Zhongli sends Moon Carver off alone to scout Sal Terrae and report back if the God of Salt required backup.
“Is everything alright, Dijun?” Bosacius asks on their way to the border.
“…fine.” Zhongli frowns. “At least, I think so.”
I’ve been here before. Twice before.
He engages Xiao in some light conversation about how the Yaksha has been settling into his life in the Assembly and discovers that Guizhong had been teaching him how to play the flute, and gets the odd feeling that he already knew.
You know because Xiao told you last time.
…last time? Zhongli blinks.
He rubs his shoulder absent-mindedly.
…
…
…
Last time, a Hydro mimic had wounded him during the battle on the river, forcing Guizhong to take over his afternoon patrol. By the time the attack had hit that evening, it was already too late. He’d failed to reach her in time.
And these events had already played out twice before.
“…Dijun? Are you sure you’re alright?”
Zhongli realises that he had stopped.
“Osial’s mimics will try to ambush us from the river and skies,” he says. “Be on the lookout. Indarias, use your Pyro to take out any bird mimics you see.”
“As you command, Dijun.”
The battle this time is a one-sided massacre.
With Indarias on the lookout for attackers in the sky and the other Yakshas alert for mimics hiding in the river, they make short work of the creatures; Zhongli barely has to step in to shield his allies at all before the battlefield falls quiet. He cuts down a final bird mimic as it swoops at him and dismisses his spear.
“Excellent work, Yakshas,” he says. “However, we must stay alert. Osial will not take this loss lightly.”
Why do I keep experiencing these same events over and over? How is this possible?
He finds Guizhong in her workshop again, as expected, tinkering away at whatever new contraption she was working on. She fusses over him, and he has to reassure her that he wasn’t hurt in any way.
“Osial again?” she asks as he strips his soaked garments for a set of clean robes.
“Yes,” Zhongli says. “These attacks are getting bolder. I fear he is planning something.” He pauses there. “Guizhong…have you ever…had a dream of experiencing the same day over and over?”
Guizhong blinks. “I don’t believe so. Where is this coming from, my love? Is something the matter?”
“Ah…” Zhongli falters. How could he possibly explain what he had seen? “Just a nightmare. You needn’t worry.”
Yes, that’s what it was. Just a nightmare of failing in my duties, over and over.
“Alright, if…if you’re sure,” Guizhong says. “Now, about Osial’s attacks.”
“The Adepti and I can handle them,” Zhongli says. “Please don’t worry.”
“You said it yourself, he’s getting bolder. He cannot have taken this morning’s loss gracefully. For such an ambush to go so wrong…” Guizhong frowns. “Perhaps it would be best if I accompanied one of the Adepti on patrol this afternoon, just to have an extra pair of eyes around the Assembly.”
“No!” Zhongli blurts out. Guizhong stares at him. “I…only meant…I don’t wish for you to put yourself in harm’s way. If something happened to you on patrol, I—”
“I’ll be fine.” She offers a reassuring smile. “Ping has one of the safer patrol routes today, does she not? I’ll accompany her. We can chat about our next music collaboration while we’re at it.”
Zhongli relents. “I’ll let her know. Contact me immediately if there’s anything amiss.”
Perhaps things will turn out differently this time.
Ping’s patrol route today would take her across the northern border, starting at the northwestern corner and finishing by the river. Osial’s attack had started in the south. With him also on patrol this afternoon, perhaps he could prevent what had happened the last two times.
Did those events truly happen? Wasn’t it a dream?
“I’ll…be heading off on my own patrol, then,” he says. “See you tonight.”
***
Moon Carver contacts him as he’s crossing the field of Glaze Lilies south of the Assembly. For a moment, he’s tempted to receive the communication properly, just to confirm that the same events had played out in Sal Terrae, but he knows he cannot risk being distracted now. He sends the stag a brief message to explain that he was on patrol, and to return immediately.
I hope to Celestia that I’m right about all of this.
This time, he sees the attack begin.
The first hint had been the sky suddenly darkening overhead, signalling an oncoming storm, moments before the heavens opened up with pouring rain. Thunder rumbled overhead as Zhongli summoned his spear and called for every single Adeptus in the Assembly to protect the eastern and southern borders.
Zhongli? What’s the urgency? Is it Osial?
He curses silently. He needed some way to keep her far away from the battle.
Yes. Get yourself someplace safe, Gui.
To Ping, he sends another message, telling her not to let Guizhong out of her sight no matter what.
Let me help, Zhongli.
Celestia help him, he hated lying to her, but he had no choice…
Evacuate the mortals. I believe Osial may try to target them.
Understood.
He cuts through hydro mimics as they appear, trying to establish a defensive line where they could hold Osial’s forces until more reinforcements came. The rainwater stings his eyes as heavy winds pick up. They were doing well this time, much better than the times he had arrived on the scene in his dream; Osial didn’t have the strength to maintain a fight on two fronts when he had to also contend with the full might of the Warrior God.
Something’s not right.
He scans the battlefield and finds no sign of the ocean overlord. It was odd, to say the least, especially given the small size of the mimics here in the south. With so few forces, he would have expected
Osial to support them with his divine powers—he knew the sea god was no coward.
Unless…
A sense of utter dread fills the pit of his stomach as he feels the energy explosion from the river. Such a release of energy could only have come from a god being slain.
Zhongli doesn’t even bother shifting; he vanishes in a flash of golden light and teleports directly to the source of the explosion.
I’m too late.
He sees Guizhong’s lifeless body as soon as he lands, still disoriented from the teleport, and falls to his knees beside her. Blood had soaked through the front of her robes already, turning the white fabric crimson. One glance at the wound told him that it came from Osial’s spear.
I don’t understand, everything went perfectly, how could Ping and Guizhong have already made it to the eastern border…? Where IS Ping?
Fighting the bubbling panic in his chest, he gets to his feet, clutching his spear. Osial would pay with his life.
“OSIAL!” he roars. “FACE ME!”
Yet the first indication he receives of the sea god’s presence is a spear through his chest.
“Miss me?” Osial whispers in his ear. Zhongli could only glare as the ocean overlord circles around him and offers a chilling smile. “I knew dealing with your partner here would draw you to me. It was too easy, really.”
“You’ll…pay…” Zhongli gasps.
Osial scoffs. “I doubt you’re in any position to deal out my payback. And as for the Adepti…well, they’re nothing without their leader or contracts, are they?” He vanishes in a flash of blue energy.
I failed for good this time.
Celestia above, he’d been given so many chances, so many opportunities to save the Assembly. To save Guizhong. And yet he had screwed up twice. His so-called ‘dream’ had been no mere dream, but a warning, and he had failed to see it.
Zhongli rolls onto his back and closes his eyes.
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What Zhongli knows for certain:
He is stuck in a time loop.
Each time he and Guizhong die, the time loop resets.
Nothing he has done so far has altered the result of their battle against Osial.
Zhongli stares at the ceiling and contemplates staying in bed today. Sunlight streams through the semi-transparent curtains, taunting him with the false promise of a beautiful day.
“…li? You’re awake already?” Guizhong mumbles, lifting her head off the pillow. He knows that the time loop isn’t perfect, because sometimes she’s in bed with him, and sometimes she falls asleep at her desk before she can make it into bed.
“It’s still early. Go back to sleep,” he says.
“Is something bothering you?” Guizhong is fully awake now, propped up on an elbow, looking at him with mild concern.
“Everything’s fine,” Zhongli says, climbing out of bed. “I have a war meeting to attend today. I’ll meet you in the workshop this afternoon.”
Oh, how he wishes everything was fine.
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“You look tired, Zhongli,” Guizhong says, when he stumbles back into her workshop on the nineteenth loop. He hates that his memory is perfect, because he hates knowing how many times he’s failed.
“Tough battle,” he simply says.
Something in his tone gives Guizhong pause. He wonders if he’s accidentally given himself away.
“You can tell me if something’s wrong,” she says.
“I know.” He gives her a stiff smile and wishes he could explain.
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He’s exhausted.
While the time loop would reset his physical state back to what it had been at the start of the day, it did nothing to reset his mental state. The knowledge and burden of his countless failures weighed him down like a heavy stone, threatening to drag him below the earth and trap him forever in the dark. He knows, deep down, that he cannot continue like this. Saving the Assembly, saving Guizhong, had to be the key to breaking the loop.
“Maybe I could help patrol this afternoon,” she says, when he tells her about this morning’s attack for the 160th time.
“No, it’s alright,” he says, trying to keep his panic under control. “The Adepti are perfectly capable of handling it. Why don’t you…ah…finish your outstanding paperwork? I seem to recall there being a hefty stack of papers on your desk.”
Guizhong huffs a laugh. “You know me too well. Alright, then, stay safe.”
Zhongli breathes an inward sigh of relief and leaves her with a peck on the cheek.
***
Zhongli? Is there an attack?
Yes, he tells her.
Let me help.
He cuts down a bird mimic and scans for any sign of Osial. The ocean overlord had appeared this time; he’d caught a glimpse of that distinct blue hair earlier.
Find Ping and evacuate the civilians—
He’d barely formed the thought when he caught a glint of metal out of the corner of his eye and turned just in time to parry a Hydro-infused spear strike. The two weapons rang together sharply as the shock of the impact travelled up his right arm.
“Osial,” he says.
“Surrender now and I’ll show your precious mortals some mercy,” Osial says.
Zhongli lunges forward with a spear thrust. Osial knocks it aside easily and counters with a swing. He dodges aside easily. The sea god comes forward with another strike. He parries and counters. Osial sends a blast of Hydro at his chest. He brings up a shield just in time to counter.
Guizhong, are the civilians safe? he asks, and hopes to Celestia that she’d been successful.
For now, but—
Stay with them, he tells her. We’re losing ground. Mimics might try to attack them. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.
A bold-faced lie, if he’d ever told one, because despite the floodwaters and stinging rain, Osial’s forces were losing. But anything to keep Guizhong safe.
His feint catches the ocean overlord off-guard, and the tip of his spear punches clean into his opponent’s leg. Osial goes down with a roar of pain.
“Stay down,” Zhongli says. “You’ve lost this battle.”
Osial chuckles. “You didn’t think I’d come alone, did you?”
Too late, Zhongli recognises the divine energy of another god on the battlefield. He turns, but the newcomer is faster, parrying his wild swing and driving a sword through his chest.
Beisht.
“You’re both too late,” he says. “The Assembly…is safe. Guizhong is safe. And the Adepti…they’ll have revenge.”
“There won’t be anything left of the Assembly by the time we’re done, sweetheart,” Beisht says, patting his cheek before moving around him and helping her husband to his feet. The two of them vanished moments later.
All Adepti…fall back to Guizhong. Protect the mortals.
Zhongli hopes it would be enough. Hopes against all odds that his death here had finally broken the time loop and saved the Assembly.
Zhongli? Zhongli! The Adepti are saying that Osial has retreated. Talk to me, what’s going on—
“I’m sorry, Gui,” he gasps. “You’ll…have to win this war on your own.”
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Zhongli wakes to the faint scent of Glaze Lilies and Silk Flower perfume, tangled up in the bedsheets, Guizhong’s arms around him.
No. No, not again! I prevented her death during the battle, I saved the Assembly…
He groans and runs his hands down his face. How was he to break the time loop? What else could he possibly do? He had finally convinced Guizhong to stay in her workshop when the attack began, had convinced her to evacuate with the civilians and stay far, far away from the battlefield. He had incapacitated Osial, and he knew that the combined strength of the Adepti would be enough to repel an attack from Beisht…
Beside him, Guizhong mumbles something incoherent and tightens her grip around him when he tries to get out of bed.
“I have a war meeting today,” he says.
“Barely…past…sunrise,” Guizhong grumbles. Basked in the soft sunlight leaking through the curtains, she looked ethereal.
Well, if I’m going to be living through this loop indefinitely…
Zhongli resolves to stay in bed today.
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“I can’t do this anymore, Gui.”
Guizhong looks up from her tinkering as he stumbles in, once again soaked from the river battle and sporting no injuries of any sort.
“I’m stuck in a time loop,” he continues. “I’ve experienced the same day 168 times, counting today.”
Guizhong, to her credit, didn’t immediately call him crazy. Slowly, she puts her instruments down, and draws up two chairs for them to sit.
“I know,” she says, after a beat.
What?
“What do you mean, you know?” It was Zhongli’s turn to stare.
“I realised after you told me about your ‘dream’,” she says. “I know the Assembly has fallen each time, that we both died each time, except once when I lived and you died.”
Zhongli feels his shoulders deflate. “…why didn’t you say anything?”
Guizhong looks away at that.
“I should have told you. I was selfish.”
“Selfish?”
“As gods, we think ourselves above the mortal constraint of time,” Guizhong says. “Yet we realise too late that time is just as fleeting to us as it is to those little people, and we realise that we never have enough of it until it runs out. I wanted to freeze time. Spend it with you for a little longer.”
“Guizhong? What are you talking about?” Zhongli asks.
“Zhongli, you’ve been so focused on saving me, and saving the Assembly,” Guizhong says, “you haven’t considered what actually triggers the loop.”
Zhongli doesn’t like where this is going.
“It’s not my death, love.” Guizhong cups his face in her hands. “It’s yours.”
He feels as if a stone had dropped into the pit of his stomach.
“I could…save us both. I just need to figure it out…” he says.
Guizhong shook her head sadly. “You’re no match for Osial and Beisht. Every time I went on patrol with Ping, I sent her to protect the evacuating civilians while I faced the two gods. That’s where you need to be too. Keep the mortals safe. When the attack comes this afternoon, you must evacuate the mortals. If you die here, we lose this war.”
“No. Absolutely not. I can’t let you die,” Zhongli says. His voice shook.
“It’s the only way to keep yourself safe.”
“I won’t do it. I’ll find a way to save us both.”
“Zhongli.” Guizhong looks him in the eye, and he falters. “I’ve known this day was coming since the Archon War began. You have to let me go.”
He knows, deep down, that she’s right. Keeping himself alive to protect the mortals…it was the only way to break the loop.
“Then…” His voice almost breaks there. “If the outcome of this attack is the same regardless of our patrols…I’d like to spend the afternoon with you.”
Guizhong huffs a half-laugh. “I’d like that too. How about a game of weiqi?”
Zhongli silently produces a board and pieces.
***
That night, on a hilltop overlooking the flooded plains, they hold a memorial in honour of the fallen.
Zhongli does not cry.
He had cried when the attack started and he parted ways with Guizhong, and again when he found her dying in the midst of the rubble that was once their great city, and once more when her body crumbled to stone, then dust.
He has no more tears left to shed.
He watches, instead, as Ping and Cloud Retainer weep for Guizhong, as the mortals who worshipped her fall to their knees and wail at their loss. Xiao does not visibly cry, but as he steps forward to place a Qingxin flower in front of her memorial, Zhongli catches a single tear slide halfway down his cheek before the young Yaksha reaches up to brush it away.
They do not know the truth of her sacrifice. They could never know, for they would never understand what he had lived through.
Zhongli grieves, alone.
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Zhongli wakes to the scent of fresh air after a storm and sunlight shining directly into his eyes, and a feeling of emptiness in his chest. Slowly, reluctantly, he gets to his feet, ducking out of the makeshift stone tent he had hastily erected last night. This early, it was still cold, and he puts his hands into the pockets of his robes instinctively.
He feels a note.
Zhongli digs it out carefully and unfolds it. One glance at the handwriting told him it was from Guizhong.
I love you. Thank you for everything. Look after these for me, won’t you?
Attached to the note is a tiny pouch, stitched together with simple fabric. Blinking back tears, he fumbles with the string, and tips the contents out into his palm. A half-laugh escapes his lips; of all the things she could have entrusted to him for safekeeping, she had chosen a handful of Glaze Lily seeds.
“I will,” he tells her. “One day, Liyue will see these flowers bloom once more.”
I promise.