~^Silent Promises^~

~^Shadows in the light^~

The fog was thicker now, wrapping itself around the trees and winding paths of Dihua Marsh like a ghostly shroud. Aether walked quietly through the mist, his golden eyes narrowing against the dim light of the fading stars. Though he had traveled far and wide across Teyvat, there was something about this place—the sense of ancient, hidden things lurking beneath the surface—that always drew him back.

“Paimon,” Aether murmured, glancing down at his small companion floating beside him, “do you feel that?”

Paimon rubbed her tiny, glowing wings, peering around with a look of unease. “Feel what? The fog? The darkness? Paimon feels everything!”

Aether smiled faintly, though his gaze remained distant. “No... something deeper. Liyue’s peace feels fragile now. There’s something stirring beneath the surface. The Chasm... it’s awakening.”

Paimon blinked, suddenly more serious. “You mean that place we barely dared go near? Paimon doesn’t like the sound of that...”

“I don’t either,” Aether said softly. He adjusted his cloak, trying to push away the oppressive sense of unease that had settled in his chest. “But we can’t ignore it. Not when Liyue is at risk again.”

---

Dihua Marsh had always been beautiful, in its own quiet, haunting way. The ancient trees stretched up to the sky, their twisted branches resembling gnarled veins. The pond where Aether had first encountered Xiao was still, its surface reflecting the pale light of the stars. But there was a different feel to the air now—a cold, heavy pressure that had settled in the night.

As they approached the pond, Aether could feel it before he even saw him. Xiao was there, standing at the water’s edge, his familiar figure silhouetted against the starry sky. His black cloak billowed in the wind, and his golden eyes remained as sharp as ever, though they seemed clouded by something more than just the darkness surrounding him.

Xiao didn’t acknowledge them right away, his gaze fixed on the still pond as though lost in thought.

Paimon hovered near Aether, glancing nervously between him and Xiao. “Uh, Aether? Are you sure this is a good idea? What if he’s still mad at us?”

Aether sighed and stepped forward. “It’s something we have to do.”

With a quiet greeting, Aether called out, “Xiao.”

Xiao didn’t flinch. He stood there, motionless, his golden eyes unreadable. “Why are you here again, Aether?” His voice was low, almost a whisper in the stillness of the night.

Aether didn’t hesitate. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. About carrying this burden alone. I came back to see if maybe that isn’t true.”

Xiao didn’t turn to face him, his gaze still fixed on the pond. His posture remained rigid, his spear resting against the ground. “And what makes you think you understand my burden?” His voice was colder now, sharper.

“I don’t,” Aether admitted. “But I understand loss. I understand carrying too much on your own. I’ve been there. And... I don’t want you to carry it alone.”

Xiao finally turned, his golden eyes narrowing as they met Aether’s. The flicker of emotion in his gaze was brief—anger, sadness, or perhaps something else entirely—before it disappeared beneath the mask of stoicism.

“Why do you persist?” Xiao asked, his tone still distant, yet softer now. “Do you not see? I am the last of the Yaksha. My existence is a curse, not a blessing. The darkness in me cannot be washed away.”

Aether stepped closer, his voice steady. “I don’t believe that. You’re not a curse, Xiao. You’re one of the few who still protect Liyue from the shadows. But even protectors... they need someone to stand with them. Even if they don’t ask for it.”