Chapter Text
The storm clouds have parted. As Childe stumbles along the road from the Golden House, he can see the sky clear, the clouds roll back, and the sun once again fill the harbor with light.
So they defeated Osial. And Rex Lapis never showed up. He failed.
Shit. He has to get back to the bank, back to safety. He tries to hurry, but his body is still wrecked with electro energy. Sharp jolts scatter through his veins, inhibiting every step. A bearable pain, but an inconvenient one.
The entrance to the city is flooded with Millelith. Childe pauses behind a tree, but after quickly scouting the area, it seems impossible that he’ll be able to get back into the city by normal means. While most of the guards are occupied clearing debris from the storm, plenty remain on watch. Dozens of eyes rake the area he needs to pass. There’s no way they’ll let him just waltz in, not after the show the Fatui put on.
He’s taking a deep breath to focus his mind when a sharp voice utters, “Halt!”
He turns to see the worst, a dozen Millelith in an advancing semi-circle, spears out. How had he not noticed them approaching? The effects of his transformation must have frazzled his senses beyond what he thought.
“Already halted.” Childe raises his hands in mock surrender. “Need something?”
“You’re under arrest,” the guard says.
“For what?” It’s too late for playing dumb, but his eyes dart around to find an escape route.
“For breaking into the Golden House, assaulting the guards, and that.” The guard gestures to the retreating storm clouds.
“There’s clearly been a mistake.” Childe tries to give his usual light laugh. “Do you know who I am?”
“We know exactly who you are, Harbinger Tartaglia.” The guard’s face is set. “We were sent by the Tianquan to apprehend you. Surrender your vision and come with us at once.”
Well, shit. If they’re willing to arrest someone of his station, it looks like he’s single-handedly destroyed the diplomatic relations between their countries. In that case…there’s no point in this charade anymore, is there?
His fingers twitch, hydro droplets growing between them. “I don’t want to fight you. If you know who I am, you know you can’t take me by force.”
“We shall do our very best, then,” the guard says. Determination boils in their eyes as they advance, spears aimed at his heart.
Admirable. But Childe has seen too many guards fall before him to be impressed. It’s foolishness, not bravery.
He leaps into action before they can. Even in his current state, they pose no threat. Adrenaline wipes away the pain sparking through his body as he dances through the group, hydro blades slashing with restraint. He’s already failed the mission. There’s no point in killing anyone.
But even as the guards fall, a dozen more take their place. He pauses to take a breath. The clearing just before the bridge into the city is rapidly filling with Millelith. Whether they’ve been sent to take him or just noticed the commotion, there are now at least fifty guards advancing on him.
So much for making it to the bank. Childe turns instead to flee the city, only to find a host of guards blocking the road. No matter. He can carve a path through them. He hopes he has enough stamina left to outrun them. How embarrassing, a Harbinger fleeing a failed job. But he doesn’t exactly have another choice.
With a dramatic sigh, he faces his opponents. Their faces are resolute stone, even at the sight of their colleagues on the ground.
“Next?” Childe says.
They rush at him and he darts past, disarming them as he goes. He feels the sharp stinging grow, his muscles resisting the strain he puts them through, but he doesn’t pause. He can deal with the consequences of his recklessness when he’s free.
At least thirty fall before something finally stops him.
“Childe.” The voice is soft but more commanding than any he’s heard before. And familiar enough to make him freeze.
Both Childe and the Millelith around him turn.
Zhongli is striding through the crowd, a spear in his hand, golden light in his eyes. What is he doing here?
Even as confusion racks him, Childe’s instincts take over. He can’t stop for anything. He turns back and shoves his way past two guards. The ones around them leap at him, but he breaks their spears and kicks them back.
“Childe, stop this.” The voice is suddenly right behind him. He whips around and stumbles back. A guard takes advantage of this to swipe a gash across his ribs.
Childe curses and cuts the guard down without hesitation. But as he makes to finish them, a spear blocks his blade.
Zhongli pushes him back from the guard. Childe jumps out of melee range and finally pauses, breath now ragged. He and Zhongli stand in a circle of ever-tightening Millelith. Just how many are there?
Zhongli moves to block his path out of the city. “Childe, you have to surrender.”
He just laughs. “So you can fight, xiansheng. I knew you were hiding your strength from me.” He moves slowly into the center of the circle, a hand on the fresh cut. “Sorry our business partnership had to end so abruptly. If you’ll just get out of the way….”
Zhongli doesn’t look amused. His face is stone, but Childe can see a hint of sadness flash in his eyes. His own chest tightens. He never thought they’d meet like this. Why is a funeral parlor consultant rushing in to apprehend a foreign spy anyway?
“I cannot do that,” Zhongli says. “You’re surrounded. Stop hurting these people and yourself for no reason.”
“I’ve gotten out of worse situations.”
His expression doesn’t shift. “Just surrender and stand trial. Don’t make the diplomatic relations between our countries worse.”
What does Zhongli know about international relations? “Can’t do that,” Chile says with a fake smile. His side is bleeding. He can’t feel the pain yet, but he knows he’s losing blood and the electro jolts are getting worse. He has to get out of here quickly.
“Then I’ll fight you myself.” Zhongli lifts his spear.
This time, Childe’s laugh is real and a little bit unhinged. “Is that meant to be a threat? I’ve been wanting to spar with you since we met!”
“This isn’t a spar.” Zhongli steps forward, face dead serious. The sadness blooms again deep in his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
What makes him so confident? Childe would like to find out. Recklessness seizes him. “Don’t hold back, xiansheng. I’d hate to beat you so quickly.”
He fashions himself a hydro swallow and strikes.
For a moment, all his pain is forgotten in the glorious thrill of their bodies and weapons flowing so smoothly back and forth, parry and strike, defense and offense, a movement as natural as the rise and fall of the tides.
Zhongli is good. So good Childe almost forgets the circumstances. So good he wants the fight to last forever, finally testing himself against a worthy opponent. The question of how this innocuous-looking citizen can go toe to toe with him fades as he immerses himself fully in the experience.
Childe has always thought Zhongli is attractive. Everyone does, surely. But in the heat of battle, the moments when Childe feels most alive, everything is heightened. Zhongli looks radiant in their dance as he spins and blocks and moves so fast that everything is a blur as Childe tries to keep up with him.
The spell isn’t even broken when Childe jumps a second too late and Zhongli’s spear hits his shins, knocking him into the dirt.
“Surrender!” Zhongli’s spear is at his throat, the man’s eyes fierce. But Childe feels too good to stop now. Zhongli’s threat is empty, so he knocks the spear away and jumps to his feet. Well, tries to jump. His injuries are finally catching up to him and it turns into a stumble.
“Never,” he says with what must appear a manic smile.
“Childe, please.”
“You’re holding back, aren’t you, xiansheng?” Childe grins even as he sways and his vision blurs. “You’ve got to…stop that….”
He attacks, but after a few blows, it’s clear he’s losing stamina. Zhongli knocks him back again. “You’re hurting yourself. Surrender.”
Childe struggles up again, goes for a feint that Zhongli sees straight through. He just manages to dodge the retaliation. Zhongli watches, eyes narrowed, as Childe circles him, scanning for any opening. A few test blows find not even a chink in his defense.
Childe would feel humiliated if he weren’t growing delirious. Zhongli has clearly kept some things from him. And he hasn’t even used his vision! Childe wonders how this fight would be going if he were at full strength…if he hadn’t lost control of his transformation and injured himself….
Another exchange has Childe in the dirt again. This time, all the breath is slammed from his lungs. The world erupts in a dizzying display of fireworks. His head is exploding and he can’t breathe and the blood soaking his jacket is getting heavy….
“Please.” Emotion finally enters Zhongli’s voice. “Stay down.”
A mirthless chuckle that doesn’t belong to Childe emanates from his lips. “You can’t defeat me,” Tartaglia mutters. “It’s not…possible.”
The protestations of his body are nothing to the determination of his pride. He surges upward a last time, only to be blocked by a geo pillar bursting from the ground in front of him. Two more erupt from other angles, and suddenly he’s trapped between them. They’ve formed a cage, with his head caught in one gap and his arms in others. He struggles, gripping his hydro weapons, but he is jammed perfectly between them. Helpless.
Zhongli has been hiding much from him.
Tartaglia—no, Childe as all the vicious resolve is knocked from him—feels the world spin as Zhongli approaches him. A pillar hit his head, he realizes, and the pounding blackness is encroaching.
“Please cooperate.” Zhongli’s voice comes from somewhere in the swirling darkness. He feels gentle hands unclip his vision from his belt. “They won’t be kind. But don’t make this worse for yourself.”
And then he doesn’t feel anything anymore.
***
Childe wakes to the sound of dripping water. The comforting memory of icicles fills his mind. As the winter snows retreated from his hometown, the icicles lining the houses and decorating the pine trees would melt with a soft drip, drip, drip. The sun would catch in them, a sparkling prism, the promise of summer and rare warmth in that harsh land.
He doesn’t feel warm now.
Pain hits too hard to feel cold, but the room is chilled. He’s lying down. Someone has removed his shirt, and the surface beneath him is wood. He doesn’t want to open his eyes.
The pain is nothing he’s not used to. His head aches, but he’s had worse blows than that. It feels like someone has bandaged his side. The worst is the excess of electro energy still coursing just under his skin, sparking and burning. But that, too, is not unusual.
He tries to move and finds restraints on his wrists and ankles. At this, a slight cough sounds from beside him. There’s someone else here.
“Ah, you’re awake.” The voice is cold and female.
There’s no point in feigning unconsciousness. He opens his eyes to see the Tianquan herself perched on a chair beside him, looking completely out of place in this low, stone room. There’s nothing around but the table he’s lying on and her chair. A metal door is closed behind her. Another door adorns the opposite wall.
“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” Ningguang says. “I knew the Fatui were plotting something, but to go as far as you did…did you really think you’d be able to walk away after wreaking such havoc?”
“Lady Ningguang.” Childe forces a smile to his lips. “What an honor to officially meet you.”
She snorts. “Do you think your brazenness is amusing?”
“I think my goddess would hate to see me in such an…undignified position.” He tries to raise his head, but his vision swims. “My rank in the government—”
“Is not quite as high as mine.” Her eyes glow with cold anger. “And your goddess should understand that when she tries to overthrow a foreign country, her servants may be held accountable for the damage.”
“We weren’t trying to overthrow anything.”
“What were you doing?” She crosses her arms. “What were you plotting?”
He puts his head back and stares at the ceiling. He’s never been the best at scheming—hates it, in fact. And while he could lie easily, it would be better to give her nothing.
Ningguang sighs. “The traveler already told us everything. You have nothing to hide.”
He continues staring.
“Fine. I don’t need any information from you anyway.” She leans forward and her metal nails clack threateningly against the table. “But I would like you to know that you failed. Liyue is stronger than ever before, and its enemies would do best not to underestimate it in the future.”
Childe almost says something stupid like I’m not your enemy. Despite attempting to destroy the city, he does not, in fact, consider himself an enemy of it. But Ningguang wouldn’t want to hear that.
“So, what do you want from me?”
“That is simple.” She leans back, a cold, dark smile covering her face. “Justice.”
Her expression sends a panicked swoop through his stomach. Something tells him she doesn’t mean a fake trial and a little jail time.
“Anything you do to me,” he says, finally losing some bravado, “the Tsaritsa will take as a personal slight.”
“Hmm.” She puts a finger to her lips. “I certainly hope so. While war between our countries would be inconvenient…well, we’ve proved today that Liyue is strong enough to defeat a god even without Rex Lapis.” Her small smile speaks of rock-solid faith. “But it won’t come to that.”
“What do you mean?”
Ningguang stands, a figure of authority and grace. She emanates unwavering dominance, even in this room. “That is not something you need to know.”
She moves to the door and knocks. It opens to reveal two stone-faced Millelith.
“I don’t enjoy violence,” Ningguang says with a back glance at him. “But I would like you to feel the depth of your crimes. I have…lost much because of you.”
And she’s gone, leaving the faint scent of some high-brow perfume on the chilled air. The two guards move into the room and close the door behind her.
Childe isn’t one to beg for anything. Certainly not for his own safety. But he is one to save face. Whatever Ningguang has planned (and honestly, she can’t risk acutally hurting him, right?), he wants to come out of this with his pride as unscathed as possible.
So he cracks the biggest smile he can manage at the guards. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
They don’t meet his eyes. They move forward and start to untie him.
Ningguang is a fool if she thinks she can intimidate him. Yes, the guards are large and muscled, but he’s cut down hundreds of opponents larger than himself. They can’t do anything to him that he hasn’t experienced before.
Even without his vision, he could knock these two idiots out. Even with his injuries, he could have them on the floor in seconds. Childe won’t actually resist. The time for running is past, and even he knows when to give up. But the knowledge that he could beat them if he wanted gives him strength.
It’s terribly predictable. They pull him up, tie his hands behind his back, and shove him to the floor. For a few seconds, he amuses himself by dodging their kicks. But the blow to his head was too recent, and soon his dizziness and general exhaustion make too much movement impossible. Unfortunately, he’s also made them angry.
The first blow is to his injured side. Almost certainly deliberate. The second is to his arm. The third to his back. These two have been trained how to hurt without breaking anything. It’s an art, really, learning just the right amount of force. But it’s harder to appreciate when directed at him.
The kicking is fine. Childe has been in the military since he was 14, getting bruises worse than these every day since. But they can’t do this forever without causing permanent injury, so after a few minutes they pull out small, dull whips.
This part hurts much more. They don’t break the skin, but it feels like hornets stinging him relentlessly, biting and biting. He presses his face into the stone floor, determined not to make a sound. It’s nothing compared with the agony of his transformation. It can’t hurt him.
Childe wishes he could remember the part of his Fatui training on torture. He never really paid attention to training, allowing his abilities to carry him through everything. And he never thought he’d end up in a situation like this, as stupidly arrogant as that now seems.
But Ningguang won’t let it get that far. And it’s not like they’re trying to extract information from him. He doesn’t need to remember how to withstand torture.
Right?
It begins to get to him as they carry on ruthlessly. Desperation flashes through his mind at every contact, every flare of pain that reverberates through his entire body. But he won’t make a sound. He’s strong. His strength is all he has. He’s faced so much worse than this.
The excuses begin to run out. Just as he starts to think he can’t take it anymore, they stop.
“We should d-do this again s-sometime.” He speaks for the first time with a guttural laugh. As long as he can joke….
They don’t look at him as they haul him up and throw him back on the table. He has to bite his tongue to stop from screaming as his bruised skin makes contact with the wood. They tie him to the table and leave, still wordless.
He breathes into the chilled air, trying to regain composure. Everything is pain. Sharp tingles. Deep throbbing. A headache that leaves him wincing with every pulse. It’s an overwhelming amount of sensory information, and all he can do is ride it out.
At least he’s alone now. But he quickly realizes that’s not a good thing. For the first time since leaving the Golden House, he’s alone with one, crushing thought: I failed the Tsaritsa.
The emotional pain is easier than the physical pain, so he allows it to linger. She believed in me. She gave me an important mission. A critical mission.
Without Rex Lapis’s gnosis…how were they to challenge Celestia? How were they to save the world from the tyranny of Heaven? The Tsaritsa made it clear that speed was imperative. It’s only a matter of time before Celestia notices what’s happening in Snezhnaya, the delusions, the advances in technology, not to mention their machinations elsewhere. The Tsaritsa needs all the gnoses, as soon as possible, and he was tasked with obtaining the Geo Archon’s….
The enormity of their situation is not lost on Childe. While he and the other Harbingers aren’t privy to all their goddess’s plans, he understands the importance of what they’re doing. What he failed to do. He dedicated his life to laying the world at her feet. And now…he is a prisoner of the people he was meant to trick. He’s much less afraid of Ningguang than the wrath of his goddess when she learns that he failed.
He can’t be angry at the Qixing and the adepti for defending their city, but…damn you, Morax! What kind of god leaves his people to defend themselves?
Of course, he thinks dryly, if he could lose so easily to Zhongli, how did he expect to face a god? Even if Rex Lapis had shown up, Childe was in no shape to fight him. The archon would have slaughtered his troops, many lives lost for nothing….
His own recklessness put him here. He lost control, overexerted himself, put his own body in a helpless state. He was stupid and arrogant, and he lost. Am I still fit to serve my goddess?
Maybe it’s a good thing Zhongli stopped him. If he had fled back home, he would be facing the Tsaritsa’s anger.
Zhongli…that’s another source of pain. Childe doesn’t know whether to feel victimized or guilty about what happened. Probably both. Zhongli was just a loyal citizen defending his city; of course he tried to stop Childe. But he looked so sad, genuinely tried not to hurt him. Childe considers him a friend after the many months they’ve spent together. He knew the whole time he would eventually have to act against Liyue and therefore its people, including Zhongli. He tried not to get attached. But he likes this city, he can’t deny it. The people are interesting, the sights are beautiful, and the cuisine is exquisite. Childe can’t help enjoying his life here, something that Zhongli has unfortunately been a large part of.
Childe never has regrets. Releasing Osial was the right thing to do, no matter the havoc, no matter the fact that he’s now tied to a table and covered in bruises. But he can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt at Zhongli’s sadness.
It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He’ll never see Zhongli again. Nothing that happened during their business partnership matters anymore. Childe injured himself in his stupidity and Rex Lapis never showed up, so the mission is over. He failed and now he’s going to face the consequences.
The sinking, tightening horror in his chest only grows as the minutes pass. There’s nothing to do, nothing to think, nowhere to run from the pain of his body and mind.
At least an hour passes, though he has no way to tell time. The headache gets worse, and now he’s starting to get thirsty. Will they feed him? he wonders with a jolt of panic. Surely they wouldn’t go so far as to deprive him of basic necessities.
His tortured thoughts are interrupted by a surprising clack from the metal door. His whole body flinches. No, not again, I’m not ready.
But the last person he’s expecting walks through the door.
Her icy blue eyes match the smirk on her lips. She struts into the room like she owns it, a woman to outmatch even Ningguang. One glance around the room and her eyes settle on him. His face goes red as he imagines what he looks like: defeated, exhausted, half-naked and covered in marks. Tied to a table like some simple criminal. She’s the last person in Teyvat he’d want to see him like this.
“Oh, dear, Eleven.” La Signora clicks her tongue. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
Childe is still too shocked to let anything out except a choked “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“No need to be rude. I’m an ally, after all.” The look in her eyes makes it all too clear she’s enjoying this. “I tried to negotiate with the Tianquan, but she’s very insistent you stay here until your sentence is fulfilled. Of course, she hasn’t told me what that sentence is, exactly.” She looks at the chair but seems to decide it’s beneath her. “I’ll talk to the Tsaritsa when I get back to Snezhnaya, but we’ll likely have to let the Qixing do whatever they want to you until they’re satisfied.”
“I don’t understand,” he says through gritted teeth, “what you’re doing here.”
“Oh, Tartaglia, are you really that oblivious?” He usually tries not to hate her, but she’s pushing it as she laughs, a tinkling of ice. “Don’t worry, the Tsaritsa will be very proud of you. You played your role well.”
Her every word is a slap. It’s hard enough to think with the dizziness and general discomfort, but now his thoughts are falling into chaos.
“I…I failed.” His voice is quiet. “I couldn’t get the gnosis.”
“You weren’t meant to.” La Signora smiles sharply. “But I did. There were a lot of things Rex Lapis and I didn’t tell you.”
Childe thinks he might throw up. Betrayal…well, no, he can hardly call it that. Secrecy and scheming are first nature to the other Harbingers, La Signora most of all. The others have put him in harm’s way countless times before. But this feels different. The room is spinning and he can’t hold on to anything he thinks he knows.
“Explain,” he whispers.
She sighs. “I suppose I owe you that much. You were a nice little pawn in our game. You acted exactly as Rex Lapis wanted you to, stirred up enough chaos to bring the Qixing and the adepti together. Releasing Osial….” She laughs. “Well, that was unexpected. I didn’t think you had it in you. You usually aren’t so eager to lay waste to entire cities. The Tsaritsa will be impressed.”
He feels sicker. “I don’t….”
“Still don’t understand?” Her expression is perfectly smug. “It was a test. Rex Lapis wants to retire, so he put together a little trial for Liyue with our expert help.”
“He faked his death as a test?”
“Exactly. And he made a contract with the Tsaritsa to hand over his gnosis. I don’t know the contents, but we were to help him organize this test. Now the people of Liyue have proven that they can flourish without their archon.”
“Why…why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugs. “You didn’t need to know.”
What is that supposed to mean? It was his mission. “So…we won?” Any feeling of relief is overridden by the gut-wrenching betrayal.
“Yes, Tartaglia. We’re one step closer to world domination. You can rest easy.” She smirks as her eyes rake his body. “Well, as easy as you can.”
Why does she gain such pleasure from his pain? They’ve never gotten along, but this is a different level entirely. How can his colleagues hate him enough to deliberately manufacture his suffering like this? They’re supposed to be a team, but ever since he joined the Harbingers, most of them have taken every opportunity to put him down.
They’re horrible people, is the easy answer. And he’s a horrible person, he has to remind himself. How else would he be worthy to join their ranks?
“Anyway, you can’t tell the Qixing any of this. Rex Lapis doesn’t want them to know, for obvious reasons. He’s going to let the leaders know he’s still alive, but for all the people of Liyue know, their god is dead and you were directly involved.”
“So were you,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Yes.” She smiles. “But I work in the shadows. Maybe you should learn to be more subtle.”
“These were my orders.”
“And you’ll be rewarded magnificently for your service when they return you to us. Don’t tell them anything, or you’ll face our goddess’s wrath.” She starts to turn towards the door. “And try not to die, won’t you?”
“Wait!” he calls. Of the million questions on his mind, one forces its way out. “Rex Lapis, who is he?”
La Signora’s laughter is accompanied by a look of true incredulity. “Are you seriously that oblivious?”
He just waits, used to her remarks on his intelligence. She’s so amused that it takes a moment for her to speak.
“You only ate lunch with him every day for months. Spent the bank’s money irresponsibly buying him things.” His horror grows with her laughter. “You really treated the man like a god.”
And she leaves him alone as the world crashes down around him.