~^Silent Promises^~

~^Whispers beneath the stars^~

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting Liyue’s mountains into a golden glow. The last rays of light faded, leaving the landscape in a quiet hush. The mountains were cloaked in a thick, oppressive mist, and though Aether had spent countless nights wandering these lands, this was a place he had always returned to—near the familiar pond of Dihua Marsh.

Aether stood at the edge of the glade, gazing at the still water beneath the ancient trees. His golden eyes reflected the soft light of the stars, and though his expression was calm, there was a quiet urgency in his heart. Paimon floated beside him, her tiny form blinking curiously at the stillness.

“Are you sure he’ll be here again?” Paimon asked, breaking the silence. “Xiao doesn’t exactly seem like someone who’d welcome visitors.”

Aether exhaled slowly, his gaze never wavering from the pond. “I don’t know,” he replied softly. “But I feel like he’s someone who needs to know he isn’t alone, even if he doesn’t realize it himself.”

Paimon frowned, clearly unsure. “Paimon still thinks we should just leave him alone. We’re lucky he hasn’t yelled at us already!”

Aether smiled faintly, though there was a hint of sadness behind his eyes. “Maybe... but he doesn’t have to carry everything on his own.”

The sound of rustling leaves reached his ears. Aether turned slowly, his hand resting on his sword, though he didn’t draw it.

In the flickering light of the moon, Xiao appeared—calm and composed, his usual sharp gaze hidden behind the strands of his dark hair. His expression was unreadable, his movements measured, almost as if he were a ghost from the past.

Xiao didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he regarded Aether with that same unreadable expression, his golden eyes cold and distant.

“Why are you here again, Aether?” Xiao asked, his voice low, almost a whisper in the quiet of the night.

“I could ask you the same,” Aether replied quietly, his gaze steady. “But... I’ve been thinking about what you said. You don’t have to face everything alone.”

Xiao’s sharp eyes narrowed, his mouth tightening into a thin line. “And yet, you persist. Why?”

Aether sighed softly, glancing at the pond before meeting Xiao’s gaze again. “Because I see what you do. Liyue depends on you. I’ve seen the scars you carry.”

Xiao’s frown deepened, his hand tightening slightly around the spear he always carried. “And yet, you still insist on being here?”

Aether nodded, his expression calm. “Yes. Even if you think you don’t need anyone, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have someone to rely on. Sometimes, we just need a reminder that we’re not alone.”

Xiao said nothing, his gaze lowering once more. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken truths. Paimon floated closer, glancing between them with a worried look.

“You’re wasting your time,” Xiao finally said, his voice colder now. “No one can shoulder this burden but me.”

Aether stepped forward, his eyes steady. “Maybe no one can carry it all, but that doesn’t mean you have to carry it alone.”

Xiao’s jaw tightened as he turned away, his gaze fixed on the pond once more. The air between them grew thick with silence, the only sound the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.

“I was created to protect Liyue,” Xiao said quietly, almost to himself. “The Yaksha were created to be shields, but over time... we became consumed by the darkness we were meant to repel. One by one, we fell. Only I remain.”

Aether listened intently, his golden eyes softening with sympathy. “That doesn’t make you any less of an Adeptus—or less human.”

Xiao’s gaze shifted to Aether, his eyes sharp. “Human?” he scoffed. “I’ve lived too long in isolation. I’ve let my past become all that I am. There is no escape from the karmic burden I carry.”

Aether’s voice remained gentle but firm. “Maybe you can’t escape it, but that doesn’t mean you have to carry it alone.”

Xiao was silent for a long time. His gaze returned to the water, the light of the stars reflecting in his eyes. Aether could sense the weight of his thoughts, the unseen battles waged within.

“You remind me of someone I once knew,” Xiao said suddenly, breaking the silence. His tone was quieter, almost subdued.

Aether raised an eyebrow, curious. “Who?”

Xiao didn’t respond immediately, his gaze distant. “Someone who saw more than just my karma. Someone who believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

Aether watched him closely, unsure what to say. Xiao wasn’t known for speaking of his past, and whatever memories stirred in his mind seemed far away.

“I’ve lived too long in solitude,” Xiao murmured, almost as though to himself. “There is no one left to believe in me.”

Aether stayed silent, sensing that pressing further would not yield answers. Instead, he reached out with a quiet understanding.

“You don’t have to carry this burden alone, Xiao. Even if I’m not the one who can help you, I’ll stay as long as you need.”

Xiao turned his head, his gaze locking onto Aether’s once more. The tension between them felt different now—less sharp, less hostile. Aether saw something flicker in Xiao’s eyes—uncertainty, perhaps, or something that could have been gratitude.

But Xiao didn’t say anything. He remained silent, as though pondering Aether’s words long after they had been spoken.

The night deepened, the mist thickening as dawn approached. Aether stood, turning to leave. As he disappeared into the rising haze, he glanced back once more.

Xiao still sat by the pond, his eyes fixed on the water. For the first time, there was something different about him—a subtle shift.

Aether spoke softly before vanishing into the mist. “I’ll be here if you ever need someone to listen.”

Xiao remained by the pond, his thoughts lingering in the quiet of the dawn. The echoes of Aether’s words drifted through his mind, lightening the burden he had carried for so long.