Chapter Text
Depths of the ocean captured and rolled into two orbs now used as eyes, the pair glistening under the warm morning sun of Liyue stares at Zhongli's own pair of gold. Forcing him to bend over due to the short hand that grasps his sleeve, the ex-archon tears away from those and turns his vision towards the masked lady running after the child. "Master Childe!"
Zhongli’s brows wrinkle at the name she called the child. Ekaterina squirms under the invisible pressure accompanying his drawn brows and scrutinizing stare then mutters the next words in a panicking voice. "Pardon the intrusion xiansheng; this must be causing you confusion yet we could vouch that our lord harbinger has turned into this child this morning. We witnessed how a light struck him and the Traveler and this child is the only one that remained where they once stood." He anxiousness grows as she's torn between reprimanding her boss-turned-kid for tugging at Zhongli's clothes harder and apologizing further. "As someone knowledgeable on various topics, we would like to ask for your assistance in this matter."
Tartaglia, the 11th of Tsaritsa's harbingers and commonly known by his codename: Childe, pulls him down further until he crouches down. Even as the kid wraps his small hands around Zhongli's neck, he couldn't believe that this silent child and that overconfident rascal are identical. Even so, he indulges the kid by lifting him up and carrying him. At this close proximity, he could see their disturbing similarities — freckled pale skin, facial shape (albeit this kid having rounder cheeks), and eye color of a rare noctilucous jade.
He feels the contempt in Ekaterina's eyes as he watches their cute superior being all clingy with the consultant. "It seems that he's less hostile with you, xiansheng," she huffs, letting her words ooze with bitterness. "We cannot find the traveler and there's no one master Childe is talking to. You're our last resort; please help us."
Honestly, Zhongli has nothing against Tartaglia. If there's anyone who has to apologize, it is actually him and his dear Tsaritsa for keeping him in the dark yet he has no chance to do so since Tartaglia is to leave after Signora. Seeing none of the ginger haired man, the ex-archon has been convinced that Tartaglia left the harbor. Just when he's starting to believe he will never have the chance to make amends, an unknown force turns Tartaglia into this silent child and brings him to his doorstep. Perhaps it's Celestia's way of compelling the man to fix the rest of the loose ends his test for Liyue has created.
"I may have no idea what can cure him of this... physical alteration, I can still help looking after him," Zhongli decides, turning towards the child, barely four or five years of age, playing with his tassel earring.
"Alright, we will continue searching for the Traveler then," Ekaterina says as she brings out a heavy bag of mora and Tartaglia's vision, placing them on Zhongli's free hand. "For the expenses that come with looking after our lord and for his safety." She throws him one final glance, bitterness finally dissipating as Tartaglia reaches out one hand and pats her head while muttering something like 'thank you' in Snezhnaya's mother tongue. Tartaglia then gives her a sweet and innocent but reserved smile, coaxing some sniffles out of her as she nods before scurrying away.
Zhongli pockets the bag of mora while tying Tartaglia's vision on the excess ribbon holding his crudely made ashen clothes. The vision recognizes its owner, glowing brightly, three shades lighter than the child's eyes. Tartaglia stares at it one bit, eyes glistening under the light his vision gives off. The interest in his eyes dies when a rumbling sound originating from his stomach echoes. Blush instantly noticeable on his face, the kid buries his head on Zhongli's neck.
"You must have not eaten yet ," Zhongli slowly speaks Snezhnaya's language. The kid lifts his face, blinking in surprise before nodding. He seemingly understands that the Consultant isn't that well versed with the language. Even as a kid, Tartaglia is smart. "Me, too. Shall we eat then? " Zhongli can't help the smile naturally forming on his lips as Tartaglia wrapped his arms on his neck again as they walk towards Wanmin restaurant.