Chapter Text
Liyue witnesses a miraculous sight.
A brilliant comet streaks across the nightsky, so bright and beautiful one almost feels as they could touch it if they reached out. Its magnificent light disappears to the west of Mt. Tianheng, leaving a streak of mottled gray smoke in its wake. The adventurous pack up and make way for the harbor's gates, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever had fallen, while soldiers and veterans alike wonder if it could be a declaration of war. After all, the Archon War has barely ended, and there are bound to be demons that refused to accept their defeat lying down.
And that is how Morax finds you, pinned to a cavern formed by your own impact with a single Divine Nail. With each wet rasp pulses a blue light from the pillar. Beneath you, a pool of black ooze pours from the puncture wound, seeping into the stone and leeching the ground of its all color.
When Morax approaches, his ears begin to pitch. The Divine Nail thrums under his palms as he presses against its side, his Gnosis pounding within his sternum in time with the pillar's light. Its outer shell begins to shudder, then slowly lift out-
Your screech shakes the earth. The Divine Nail sinks deeper into your body with a squelch as your wings and tail and body uselessly writhe. It forces Morax to work even faster, forcing the raw energy from his Gnosis into the pillar and ignoring your screams until it finally leaves your body with a squelching pop. Even after he pulls away, the needle hovers dangerously close, threatening to fall and crush you into dust.
But it is out, and your body retracts into itself until all that remains is your human form. Morax wades through the black filth, shudders at the overwhelming numbness that spreads up his legs. By the time he reaches you, his knees give out, but his arms are still working, so he forces those underneath you instead. Your head lulls when he cradles you to his chest, eyes cloudy when they finally open. "Mor...ax?"
Morax's tongue turns to lead. He forces himself to hum instead, one hand supporting your head as it falls back.
"Did...you get it?" you ask. "T-The Gnosis. Did...they give it..."
"...yes." Morax takes your hand as it paws at his sternum, where his Gnosis lay snug underneath layers of flesh. They'd given it to him without warning or fanfare, simply handed it to him the moment he'd stepped into Celestia. He'd nearly smacked it right out of the air when they did-he only came there looking for you.
"...good." Your body trembles as you smile, as if it took all the energy from every part of your form to do so. The defiant gleam in your eye sends tremors through his skin. "Friends close. Enemies closer. Bide your time. De-Defy them all, Morax."
Morax nearly sobs. "And you?"
"...This body will die, Little Dragon," you whisper. Your laugh comes out more like a broken cough, half-submerged in your own blood. "All my memories here...we will not remember."
It doesn't make sense. Not until Morax looks down at his hands and realizes your body is melting at the seams. "No..." His grip tightens. It only causes your body to seep between his fingers. "No, you...you can't-"
"Hah...Of course I can." Your legs begin to melt into one as you laugh. "If I have learned anything, mortals..always defy the odds."
And for an immortal being to die is nothing short of impossible. Morax's laughter sounds a bit deranged. It sounds pathetic. You laugh along with him and take his hand, pressing it firm against your chest. "I hear..." you whisper, "that the Luhua Pool...is a beautiful sight."
Morax's laughter wanes as his fingers sink into your body. "It is quite lovely," he agrees. "Did I ever tell you that someone nearly killed me there?"
"Oh?" Your body softens further, your smile losing its shape as your grip goes slack. "You...you must have done something...foolish, Little Dragon."
"Very foolish," Morax agrees and brushes his thumb under your eye. "I made their beloved cry."
In the end, Morax is left with a shard of some unknown mineral, the same golden shade as the mandibles on your face. A Griseous Shard, you had called it, similar to a Gnosis and not for his hands to yield until...
The journey to Luhua Pool takes only a second, a natural advantage of possessing a Gnosis that allows for access between the waypoints around Teyvat. Luhua Pool has healed well since his first (and only) battle against you, bubbling and steaming despite the frigid temperature of the year. The civilization that had lived here thrived on tourism, claimed that the waters were blessed by their patron god, capable of healing aching bones and wayward souls.
Personally, Morax believes the water's eternal warmth had been your doing, but you'd refused to admit to it when he asked.
He walks along the stone path, between crumbling houses and broken carts. To the far west, marked by unlit torches and broken arches, lies a walkway ending in a large, stone well. He'd heard rumors from the mortals back then that, if one were to toss offerings into the well, their god would grant wishes to those with the kindest of hearts. Those whose hearts contain even a hint of malice, or those whose stared into the well for too long, would simply go mad.
The well has been sealed for centuries, but when Morax kneels at the end of the walkway, the triquetra unravels, revealing the black nothingness of your world. How the fissure formed, he will never know. Even now, with his Gnosis, he is not privy to all the knowledge sealed within Celestia.
Morax holds up the Griseous Shard. Its luster gleams like freshly minted Mora. "You will never die," he whispers and presses a gentle kiss to its surface. "So long as I remember...you will forever live on in my memories."
He casts the shard into the well. The darkness swallows the shard in seconds, moving and writhing like a school of fish trapped in a net. Before Morax can rise, a pair of red eyes blinks at him from the dark. Your draconic form, as majestic and fearsome as it had been, is nothing compared to what Morax sees dancing in the void. Beautiful, he thinks.
Poisonous.
The triquetra weaves a thick barrier between his world and yours, reinforced by the energy of his Gnosis and the flame torches surrounding the well. There is nothing but stone when Morax leans over to check, just as requested by Celestia. Thousands of years into the future, when civilizations come and go, all that the mortals will find here are ruins eroding to time. Ruins, they will call it, and nothing more.
And yet, as the new year begins, Morax finds himself watching as Liyue Harbor floods the sky with lanterns. Thousands of paper lights blot out Celestia for the briefest of moments. And in those moments, mortals scatter fragrant silk flowers into the harbor as several indulge in freshly cooked meals. Young soldiers teach their elders how to dance as they, in turn, sing a language forbidden by the floating palace above, lamenting the loss of their shadow.
Morax doesn't know who'd told them of your death, but it doesn't matter. They are loud. Defiant. He can feel his Gnosis urging him to intervene, but he merely sips his wine and enjoys the festivities. He may be a fool, but he knows better: defiance is what makes them thrive.