The first few days after Barbatos' disappearance had been chaotic. They had yelled at him, criticized him, and failed miserably to notice that he was injured. They should have guessed he would not miss such an important meeting. They should have guessed there must have been a reason to his hood still being up and covering his face. But how could they, when all they ever did was see his mistakes?
And then this gigantic dragon came, his scales the ethereal Anemo color they were all familiar with after seeing them so many times on Barbatos himself. How could they forget about such a dragon when its huge size and large wings had forced them to retreat a little. The dragon was bigger in size than all his adepti put together. The Archons and him had long wondered why they never heard of such a creature, why the never knew Barbatos had a dragon to keep him company, how they never discovered the dragon's existence in the first place.
The Tsaritsa was quick to reminded them that they never cared enough to ask about Barbatos, never giving him a reason to talk about anything personal, much less a dragon.
That had stung, but he knew he wasn't allowed to feel that way. Not after what they did.
Only a few days later did news spread to Liyue about a fight taking place in Mondstadt's frozen mountain. Usually, Morax would not have given it much thoughts. After all, it didn't concern Liyue, it was not his job, nor was it in his interest to learn about it. However, when he heard that the fight concerned Barbatos, the strange dragon whom he discovered was one of the four winds of Mondstadt - as he later learned where the four protectors aiding Barbatos - and a corrupted creature named Durin, did Morax realize something bigger than he thought must have happened. So he quickly sent a message to the other five remaining Archons and rushed to Mondstadt. For the first time since Guizhong died, his heart had been beating fast, his breathing quick, hoping to right a wrong he had shamefully done. Hoping to be able to give Barbatos the apologize he deserved. One thought had also been present, dominating the rest, but he had tried hard to not think about it. He hadn't dared imagine what would happen if it were to be true, if he was too late, if something irreversible had happened to the youngest of the Seven. Morax was the oldest, wasn't he? He should have helped the younger one instead of judging him. He should have guided him. Instead, he had judged a god who had little to no experience, who was born a few years before entering a war he was not guaranteed to win, who had a pitifully small number of soldiers because Mondstadt had just lost its previous god. And although Morax did not know anything about how the nation freed itself from Decarabian's reign, he did know it was the day Barbatos became an Archon, entered the cruel world that was the god's, not even aware of the cruel path he would have to walk down through. Morax knew what kind of hardship a god faced, and yet he never bothered to sympathize with the one who had no one to help him, to face those hardships with him. He would forever be guilty of this.
After what had felt like an eternity, he had finally arrived in Dragonspine, because that was the name given to the mountain. He couldn't help the shiver at the freezing wind that had hit him as soon as he had set foot on the snowy ground, so different than Barbatos' warm winds. The difference had immediately slapped him in the face to remind him once more of his wrongdoings with the smaller god. Morax had been quick to notice that something was wrong with the flow of ley-line energy emanating from this mountain, and so he had followed this feeling hoping for it to lead him to where the fight had taken place. Quickly enough did he reach the top of Dragonspine, only to be met by a sight he kept seeing in his nightmares for the next few centuries to come. What he had seen wasn't all white anymore, because a bright red color had joined the scenery that he had at the time no problem imagining in his head, how it all went down. The air had been saturated with Anemo energy, some crystalflies born from it flying close to the rocks. Blood had been everywhere, the smell of iron infiltrating his nostrils and making him scrunch his nose in disgust.
There had been no sign of Barbatos anywhere.
Soon enough, the other Archons had joined his sides, all of them scotched to the ground, unable to move, eyes glued to the tragic remains of the battle scene in front of them. Murata had been the first to regain control of her body. She had taken slow steps forward, careful as if walking on glass. She had walked to the closest blood stain on white snow and crouched down. Extending a hand, Morax distantly remembers her trying to hide the way she was trembling. Murata had touched the blood and picked up some of the now red snow, examining it. The silence had never been louder, ringing in their ears, no one quite able to break it, all solemnly and anxiously waiting Murata's verdict. The Pyro Archon had let the small snowball she had been examining moments prior fall and merge back with the ground before she got up. Her back still turned to them, tense posture and head staring straight ahead, she had taken a deep and long breath of fresh air before slowly turning around, facing all of them, ready to give them an answer they had all been dreading.
"It's Barbatos'," she had whispered so lowly they had barely heard her, eyes getting visibly wet.
And it was as if something broke, then. It probably was because they had never seen Murata cry, or perhaps because the reality of the situation had finally sunk in. Focalors and Tsaritsa had sobbed, Rukkhadevata had put a hand on Makoto's trembling shoulder while Morax had lowered his head, clenching his fists. They had known. Of course they had all known that the blood was Barbatos'. But hearing it from Murata had only made them realize how much they had messed up. This must have been what had caused Barbatos to be late, there was no other explanations. He had clearly been injured when he joined them.
That very same day, they had searched the mountains for the wind Archon, hoping to find a trace of him. There had been nothing else but bones and a foul smell. They had tried contacting him through his gnosis, to no avail. He didn't respond. And when Makoto had tried to feel his gnosis, resonate with it in a last desperate attempt at contacting the God they had all wronged, she hadn't been able to feel anything. Not being able to feel an Archon's gnosis was equal to saying said Archon had passed away.
And so they had mourned the loss of a colleague they once knew.
They couldn't exactly qualify as friends, could they? Back in Jueun Karst, they had put a tombstone close to the table they usually sit at as a memorial. They had then decided to decorate it, so they had taken a trip to Mondstadt to get Cecilias after Focalors recalled Barbatos telling her once it was his favorite flower, and that it grew only in Mondstadt. They had picked a few and learned together to make a flower crown out of them. And so, they put it on the tombstone. Rukkhadevata was also the one letting those precious flowers stay alive by taking care of them with Dendro energy.
They had stayed some days in Mondstadt city, learning as much as they could about their lost Archon. The stories they had heard were not much, but they had learnt about the way Barbatos helped free the nation from the tyranny of the royalty, or even about a song he loved to sing, something the Mondstadt citizens liked to call the "Song of the Wind". Later, Tsaritsa had cried.
"I heard him hum something once when he thought no one was listening, it must have been this," she had managed to say between sobs.
No one had said anything for the rest of the night.
They had expected a new Anemo Archon to appear soon, and they had sworn to themselves they wouldn't repeat the mistakes of the past. For days and days, they had waited for the birth of a new Archon. But it never happened. A thought that had been sitting in all of their minds had been voiced by Makoto, the only one who had dared to ask it out loud.
"Does this mean... that Barbatos is still somewhere out there...?"
No one had an answer to give to her, no one had responded. But they had all hoped such was the case.
Their hope kept growing with each passing day without a new Archon appearing, but they never managed to find Barbatos. In the end, they decided they could not find him unless he wanted to show himself to them. At least, he was still alive.
Then, they had all felt a slight tug in their gnosis, like something missing was finally back in place. They had all attended a meeting in Liyue, a simple look enough confirmation that the tug hadn't been a dream, that they all felt it. A few hours later and here they were, each of them leaving their respective nation in the hands of their immortal friends so they could go to Mondstadt. They decided they would not leave the nation without apologizing properly to Barbatos. The hardest task would be to find him, however. They did not know what he looked like, and the gnosis didn't allow to track down other gods, it was only a connection to Celestia and a way of communicating to the others. They were also well aware that talking to Barbatos through the gnosis was not the way to go, so it was decided they had to do without using it. It would be for the best.
Their search was not really successful until now, unfortunately. It pained Morax deeply to admit it, but they made no progress whatsoever.
When they first arrived in Mondstadt, it didn't take long for them to learn about the mysterious golden haired traveler that saved Mondstadt from Stormterror. Upon investigating, they also learned that Stormterror was one of the four winds supposed to protect Mondstadt, but he started attacking the city some time ago. This made them exchange glances. Stormterror... was it the dragon they met so many years ago? It must have been. But this only raised more questions. They had all clearly seen how protective he had been of Barbatos that day, so why would he attack Mondstadt...? No matter how much they tried to think about it, it made no sense!
Later, when they got to be alone, Morax reasoned that Barbatos must have helped against Stormterror. After all, Barbatos wouldn't ignore Mondstadt in times like these. And it would also explain the small tug they had felt. So the next day, they asked around town who had helped in the nation’s rescue mission, getting them raised eyebrows.
Morax could understand their suspicion. Travelers coming from afar asking about their Archon and one of the four winds. Anyone in a right state of mind would question such sudden curiosity.
Their answer came in the form of one man who must have assumed they were curious to get the full story. So he shrugged and ended up telling them the story of the now famous golden haired traveler, helped by the heir of the Ragnvindr family who was also the owner of the Angel's Share, a well-known tavern in Mondstadt, the acting Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius, and one of the most known bard of Mondstadt.
The unanimous decision had been to meet the acting Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius, and hope she could answer some of their questions about the events that had transpired.
Although it did raise some eyebrows. Why would a bard and a tavern owner be of any importance in this kind of quest? The Archons had decided it was either because they were the only people available, or because there was a specific reason for that.
It was hard to get a meeting with the acting Grandmaster as they soon discovered, given how busy she always seemed to be. While trying to find a way to be able to talk to her, they decided to visit the city. After all, it had been some time since they last went there. They quickly noticed that the city didn't change much. Sure, it got renovated a bit, but that was it. They passed by a little girl selling flowers and bought Cecilias, thinking they could put it in front of one of Barbatos' statues later on. They tried some local food and later continued their way to the cathedral, in front of which stood proudly Barbatos' statue, hands stretched ahead, hood down, twin braids falling out of it and onto his shoulders. They stayed there for some time just staring at the statue, wishing things happened in a different way, wishing they hadn't been as stubborn and opened up more to Barbatos, had more faith in him. But what happened happened, and they couldn't change any of it. All they could hope for now was to find Barbatos and somehow make it up to him.
When they were finally able to get a meeting with the acting Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius, they headed towards their headquarters with a heavy heart but determined spirit. Her name was Jean, they discovered, and calling her by that name would be much easier than using her long title every time, Morax thought.
Her office was small, simple and yet very welcoming. She brought chairs and invited them to sit. She then sat in her own chair, facing them behind her desk, hands folded professionally, looking at each time as if to try and determine by herself the reason for this meeting.
"Welcome to Mondstadt, travelers!" she greeted them a short while later with a smile on her face, "what is it that you wish to talk to me about?" she then asked.
Murata was the first to speak.
"We thank you for this greeting." She seemed to hesitate a bit, wondering how to approach the subject. "We heard upon our arrival of a story in which you seemed to play a big role. And so we were wondering if you could tell us more about what happened?"
Master Jean seemed to really look at them, then, analyzing each one of them apart instead of as a group. She seemed to be taking in their different clothing coming from different regions, Murata's accent, how strange their request may seem from her point of view.
"If I may ask, why were you insisting on asking me about this question? Surely, it would have taken you less time and effort to be able to ask one of the other three, am I right?"
So she was skeptical about their question, Morax noticed. It was Rukkhadevata who tried her best to explain this time.
"We simply thought it strange that a bard and a bartender, no matter how rich he may be, would participate in such an… event. And so we opted for a meeting with you, hoping you could enlighten us on something we are curious about."
"I see," she simply replied, putting a hand on her chin and closing her eyes, looking pensive. But before she could reply, the door behind them opened and entered a man with tan skin and an eyepatch, strolling in confidently and looking at them with a smirk. Morax couldn't help the feeling that the man eavesdropped on the bit of conversation they had, annoyed at the man's arrogance. He was about to make the remark when the man opened his mouth, crossing his arms.
"Well well, you sure are curious travelers! Couldn't you have asked any citizen? I'm sure they could have had no problem explaining to you what happened."
Even his voice annoyed Morax, and he could see Murata starting to get angry at the man as well. Fortunately, before she could blow up, master Jean spoke.
"Kaeya, what is the reason of your visit?" she asked not unkindly.
"Well, master Jean, I was just thinking that these strangers' request is a bit... strange, if you know what I mean."
Morax heard master Jean sign, and deducted that this wasn't an uncommon occurrence with this uninvited Kaeya. If it were up to him, he would take him by the cloak and drag him out of the office. One quick glance at both Murata and Focalors was enough confirmation that he wasn’t the only one bothered by this very much unwelcome interruption.
"And if I may end, it sounds to me like you are searching for something very particular that you are hoping to get with this story," he boldly continued, as if he hadn’t jut eavesdropped and barged into a meeting that did not concern him in the slightest.
"Excuse me, sir, but we were just having a meeting with the acting Grandmaster. I do not see how this is any of your concern," said Murata, trying to keep calm. But Morax could clearly see it would not take much anymore for her to blow up at the man.
"Oh?" he asked. How annoying. Morax would have replied himself if it wasn't for master Jean's sigh.
"I must say, Kaeya is right," she finally said while returning her attention to them. "What is it that you are looking for?"
Morax opened his mouth, ready to give an answer, but Makoto beat him to it.
"To tell you the truth, we are simply looking for your Archon," she explained with a resigned sign, to which both master Jean and Kaeya raised an eyebrow.
"You are searching for Lord Barbatos himself?" asked master Jean incredulously.
Morax didn't miss the way her gaze analyzed them once more, or how she seemed to understand something. She didn't realize who they were, surely not, right? She also exchanged a glance with Kaeya, and the silence that grew started getting at his nerves.
"You have to know; he is the kind of Archon to show himself only to the people he wishes to. Barbatos is hard to meet, travelers," she warned them.
But they knew that already. What was that look she gave them?
"You know, don't you?" suddenly asked Rukkhadevata, voice soft and low in the silence that had followed the acting grandmaster’s statement, startling all of them. "You know who we are, don't you?"
They all looked at master Jean, varying expressions of perplexity and confusion on their faces. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, seeming to think carefully about what to say next. She opened her eyes shortly after and looked at Rukkhadevata, nodding her head in her direction.
"It was easy to assume, considering your attires and the circumstances, plus the questions you were asking me," she revealed.
But something still wasn't right. It should not have been enough for her to discover their true identities. She shouldn't have been able to tell that easily. Unless, of course...
"You know who is Barbatos," he said. It was supposed to be a question, but it sounded more like a statement than anything else. It was shockingly easy how fast he was able to come up with such a conclusion. She knew all they wanted to know. And yet it was painfully obvious she would never sell a single information about their Archon. Not willingly, and certainly not to them if she knew at least something of the archons shared history with Barbatos.
Master Jean had the decency to look surprised by this, at least. He also could have sworn that he heard sir Kaeya choking on air. Morax crossed his arms over his chest, not breaking eye contact with master Jean, intent on getting his answers. She simply looked away, seemingly only now realizing that she was in the presence of six archons.
"I do," she finally said.
She put her arms back on her desks, folding them in front of her, refusing to look at any of them. Morax heard Makoto gasp, and looking at her, he noticed the way her eyes lit up with hope.
"Then, could you tell us where to find him?" she asked, desperation evident in her voice.
Master Jean simply shook her head, eyebrows furrowed in sympathy. Morax didn't want any of her sympathy.
"I am sorry, but I'm afraid cannot do that."
"Why not?" continued Makoto, sadness evident in her voice, hope slowly leaving her once again.
"He will show yourself to you once he wishes for you to see him," she simply offered as an explanation. "I do not want to break the trust he has in me."
Although Morax admired her determination and her devotion to her Archon, he couldn't help the annoyance he felt at her lack of response. They were all silent for a moment, taking in what she just revealed to them.
"At least, could you give us some advice to approach him?" asked Murata, trying as much as she could to keep the desperation and the tiredness out of her voice.
This time, as she was about to answer them, it was Kaeya who spoke.
"Our Archon is always watching," he said with a smirk. "He will know when to approach you. In the meantime, I'd suggest asking around, searching for yourself. I'm sure it must not be that hard if you truly knew him."
With that, the man turned around and waved his hand in the air, exciting the office and closing the door behind him. It took him everything he had to not chase the man and shake him into oblivion. They heard master Jean sigh, massaging her forehead with her hands as if to chase a coming headache. Morax found it somewhat amusing. This seemed to be a regular occurrence. But he couldn't help but wonder how they would manage to find Barbatos. Until now, luck hadn't been on their side.
In the end, they ended up leaving master Jean's office with more questions than answers. Morax took a quick look at his companions, noticing the look on their face. It was the look of someone who started losing hope, the look of someone who needed someone to guide them and tell them what to do, reassure them everything would be okay, they could make it.
Morax distantly thought they should have done this for Barbatos, bring him comfort and support him like a mother would to her child.
He decided he would be that emotional support the other Archons seemed to need in that particular moment. He was the oldest after all, wasn't he?
Morax signed and raised his head high, squaring his shoulders, turning to face all of them.
"We just started our search. We can't give up now, friends. We promised we would apologize to someone we wrongly judged. So how could we possibly accept defeat after meeting the first obstacle?"
He looked around, admiring the view they had from the headquarters’ entrance, seeing from the corner of his eyes the others look more determined, smiles on their face. Morax himself smiled when he noticed it.
"We could go back to where it started!" Makoto enthusiastically suggested.
And so they went back to Dragonspine where they met an Anemo vision wielder. The little guy didn't bring them any new information, other than make them even more guilty when they learned Barbatos went into slumber because of how injured and drained he was.
The mountains didn't give them any comfort either nor did anything change. Only difference was the absence of blood on the snow now completely white again. Morax didn't know if he should feel discouraged by the lack of new discoveries or relieved that the blood was gone.
It went on like that for a week; them searching for clues on Barbatos' whereabouts and ending up with nothing new. But they kept going, they kept searching. One week, it had just been a week. Barbatos had silently suffered for years because of them. One week was nothing, they still had plenty of time to find their friend. Friend… if they could even call him that. He should have been family to them, and yet he was nothing more than a stranger…