Chapter Text
“Am I to understand correctly…” Wanderer swallowed the cuss that begged to roll off his tongue. All these months of Nahida’s constant preachings were certainly affecting him in all the ways he did not quite like, and the fact that he processed Dendro Archon’s request almost stoically was solid proof of that. “…That you expect me to babysit this errand boy?”
Judging by the way Nahida smiled, she could hear the gnashing of his teeth from meters away. Not that the puppet saw her expression, since the goddess stood with her back to him, a little bit too preoccupied with watering the flowers on both sides of the doorstep of Sanctuary of Surasthana. However, his knowledge of her character and mannerisms was enough to assure him that Nahida had the most infuriatingly sly shit-eating grin on her face.
Oddly, he couldn’t even bring himself to loathe it.
“Your assumption is indeed correct, Mister Hat Guy,” Nahida uttered serenely, eliciting an exasperated huff from Wanderer.
“Seriously? Again? I’ve asked you countless times to not call me that,” he groaned, walking up to Nahida. Tiny whirls of Anemo danced on his fingertips as he waved his arm lazily, gusts of wind catching the drops of water mid-air and diffusing them to sprinkle these damned flowers. Nahida blinked, mildly surprised.
“I personally find this nickname quite fitting for you,” she giggled and put the watering can down. “It is rather endearing.”
Wanderer’s eyes widened. The nerve, the fucking nerve of calling him endearing after his attempt at literal deicide! Not to mention minor things like mass murder, conspiracy, distribution of deadly weapons, and other insignificant trivia not worth mentioning. Sometimes Wanderer entertained the thought he’d got Nahida all figured out, only for the goddess to pull off something unexpected and, dare he say, outrageous every single time.
What he absolutely couldn't work out was why Nahida would treat him as her fucking confidant? He had reasonably assumed that he deserved no compassion, let alone mercy, yet Dendro Archon kept him around for reasons unfathomable. Such kind of foolishness and desire to think the best of people would eventually be her demise.
Wisely deciding it’d be better to change the topic, lest Nahida come up with an even more humiliating nickname, Wanderer cleared his throat.
“So…” he sighed, admitting defeat. “This errand boy–”
“Sethos,” corrected Nahida.
“What kind of business that requires my assistance could God of Wisdom herself have with this Sethos?” Wanderer drawled, feigning nonchalance. His little theatrics never ceased to amuse Nahida. She smiled, walking past Wanderer towards the ledge. The sun was already setting, illuminating the green of Sumeru valleys with its last golden rays.
“You are cautious about him, are you not?” Nahida inquired softly. Wanderer simply hummed, stepping up to the goddess. He sat on the ledge with his leg bent at the knee and his arm resting on it. His other leg hung down idly, lazily dangling in response to every whiff of the evening breeze.
“A desert may seem inhospitable, yet oases are teeming with blossoms the likes of which we have not seen before. Will the wise gardener seize the chance to bring seeds from the desert to plant them in his garden?” Nahida spelt out, making Wanderer arch his eyebrow incredulously.
“Can you not speak in riddles?” he muttered.
“Let’s say, knowledge sharing between the forest and the desert would be beneficial to both parties.” Nahida glanced to the side at Wanderer, who appeared surprisingly calm, the gaze of his deep indigo eyes pensive as he watched the setting sun.
“I see… So, he is no errand boy at all indeed…” Wanderer breathed out quietly. The goddess tilted her head curiously, scrutinising the way Wanderer’s expression turned contemplative.
“I guess you can ask him about it yourself.”
Wanderer only ‘tsk’ed in response. Silence hung in the air between them for a few minutes, while the two were admiring the sunset that was coming to an end, giving way to dusk. As the edge of the sun disappeared behind the horizon, Wanderer asked a question.
“Why me?” he asked, looking up at Nahida and carefully searching for any possible signs of deceit. The goddess smiled to herself. Even after all these months, the puppet remained somewhat wary of her essentially ingenuous friendly intent.
“A lotus rises from murky, muddy water to make a beautiful flower. It is a hot summer, and busy little bees are drawn to the smell of lotus flowers. But who knows what will happen when their blossoms open? Good night, Hat Guy!” Nahida’s green eyes sparkled slyly, and she spun round, walking off into the Sanctuary. Wanderer mumbled something inaudible in return, his eyes once more fixed on the horizon. Nahida's words wouldn't leave his head. What the fuck did she mean?
It wasn't until the full moon rolled across the mid-sky that he understood. He let out a short gasp. If there had been blood running through his body, his cheeks would have bloomed red.
When Wanderer reached Caravan Ribat the next morning, he had already prepared himself for the worst. His eyes kept scanning his surroundings for any possible signs of suspicious activities, yet failed to find any. Not only did Nahida’s assignment appear bothersome, but it also was boring.
That was until his gaze landed on a familiar figure with tanned skin and a messy, long ponytail reaching down to their waist. The figure turned around, and Wanderer noticed how those green eyes flickered with recognition.
Well, atonement was never an easy thing.
“Ah, so Lesser Lord Kusanali has assigned you to accompany me, eh?” Sethos smiled affably, walking towards Wanderer. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Hat Guy!”
Wanderer scoffed. How vulgarly superficial. However, everyone around him had started to get suspiciously comfortable with that nickname, and he, in return, had begun to let things slide strangely easily. He’d probably call Nahida out for that later. Until then…
“Enough chit-chat. We have matters to attend to, and I’d rather you not waste your breath on pointless pleasantries,” he replied, condescending to a restrained nod nonetheless. Nahida would’ve called it a ‘result’. He never understood why humans attached great significance to such useless shows of courtesy, yet since she asked him to at least try and be civil, he’d oblige.
Sethos’ smile remained unwavering as if he wasn’t affected by Wanderer’s coldness.
"Ah, yes, yes, I understand. Not the talkative one, are you?” he waved his hand impatiently. “Can’t help being thrilled, though! A joint survey of King Deshret’s civilization ruins with an Akademiya representative is a quite rare occasion, so can you really blame me?”
Wanderer arched his eyebrow in response. The guy was elated, so it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was his first big deal. Not that he was interested in the slightest. With a quiet hum, he tugged the brim of his hat down, walking past Sethos.
“You’re too agitated,” he laughed wryly. “Try not to fall behind, little bee. I would appreciate it if you spare me the need to deliver you back to Akademiya in pieces.”
Sethos chuckled, hurrying to follow Wanderer.
“Don’t worry.” He caught up with his companion, who had already picked up quite a quick pace. “I can fend for myself.”
Sethos turned out to be quite the chatterbox, ceasing to shut up ever since the moment they set their feet on the half-forgotten trail that led through the breach in Samiel Wall. Truth be told, Wanderer couldn’t help but pay attention to his companion’s endless yapping about the history of the Sumeru Desert. Better yet, he found himself somewhat invested in macabre stories about the downfall of desert civilisations that Sethos learnedly narrated, finding them oddly amusing. And the fact that the guy had quite a pleasant voice to listen to only served to make the whole experience ten times more frustrating.
“…Although many people consider that a truth, Parvezravan was not, in fact, the birthname of this vassal king. According to numerous pieces of evidence we’ve collected throughout centuries, he was actually an orphan who was raised in the nest of the giant bird Ghoghnus. However, there is no convincing proof that this mythical creature actually existed, which casts doubt on the belief in divine origins of the Gurabad ruling dynasty. Nevertheless, his ambition and aspiration to greatness eventually led him to be adopted by the vassal king Ormazd Shah, and he would eventually rise to become a sage–” Sethos paused abruptly, cutting himself off mid-sentence. A pleading note appeared in his voice as he glanced at Wanderer, who hadn’t uttered a single word in the past few hours. “Are you listening?”
Wanderer cocked his head towards Sethos, giving him an unreadable stare. A light wind gust kicked up dust and sand, threatening to blow into their eyes, and Sethos squinted and wrinkled his nose. Wanderer chuckled under his breath, invulnerable to such pitiful environmental effects. He studied Sethos’ face for a few more seconds, before averting his gaze.
All-in-all, his companion was quite... likeable?
Wanderer shuddered, dismissing the troublesome thought. A mask of indifference and pride, carefully cultivated over centuries, had grown over his face, stubbornly unwilling to fall off despite Nahida's best efforts. Hence, he resorted to the tactic he always used when cornered – a flat-out defence.
“Do you ever stop talking?” he asked dryly.
“Not when someone piques my interest,” Sethos replied, unabashed.
Wanderer let out an exasperated groan, almost breathless out of pure frustration and the guy’s unadulterated audacity. If this was Lesser Lord Kusanali’s masterfully crafted and thoroughly executed plan to bring as much misery as possible into his already arduous life, then she most definitely succeeded.
“You’re not going to back off, are you?” he asked and instantly cursed at himself mentally for asking the obvious question, which would only lure the guy into trying to strike up a conversation.
“Well, since we’re spending time together, I think it’s only reasonable if I try to know you better.”
“We’re not–” Wanderer almost snapped, before stopping himself. After frantically running through all the coping techniques in his head and failing to find one that didn’t include violence, he sighed heavily. After reminding himself that Nahida had asked nicely, after all, he flashed Sethos a wry smirk. Perhaps, he could entertain himself at least a little bit.
“If you’re so adamant about knowing me, let’s make a deal. You are allowed to ask one question a day, and I promise to answer truthfully.” He choked out a mirthless laugh. “Go on, don’t disappoint me.”
Then it hit him. He had just offered another person to engage in what he considered a useless, mundane exchange of words. Had Nahida seen this, her eyes would have sparkled craftily and her lips would have quirked into a barely perceptible, insinuating smile. ‘Be damned, Buer, for always getting your way,’ thought Wanderer.
Upon seeing an awfully excited look in Sethos’ green eyes, he realised how much of a mistake he had made. He let out a shaky exhale, bracing himself for the question that was bound to come next.
“May I get a closer look at your hat?”
“So, you are from Inazuma, correct?” Sethos asked yet another question, looking at Wanderer, who stood at the cave entrance. His eyes were locked on a massive sandstorm outside, which forced them to seek shelter in the first place. As if this delay was not enough, he was also stuck in a confined space with Sethos and his big mouth.
Surprisingly, it didn’t make his mood sour. The guy’s presence was… tolerable.
“You could say that,” Wanderer replied briefly, showing no visible interest in discussing his past. That was all water under the bridge to him.
“How come you ended up in Akademiya, then?” Sethos continued his questioning, not bothered by the lack of conversational response. Wanderer turned around, and his lips tugged into a wicked sneer. The guy’s presence was certainly much more tolerable when he had a chance to mess with him.
“That’s a second question,” he fleered, amused at the way Sethos’ eyes gleamed with mild annoyance.
“You didn’t even answer the first one properly!” Sethos objected, only to elicit a small, dry chuckle.
“I promised to answer truthfully, not comprehensibly.”
“I’ve met a good few weird people, but you obviously take the cake.” Sethos crossed his arms. “Fine, keep up your mysterious act.”
“I’ll figure you out sooner or later anyway.”
“How did you get your Vision?” Sethos shouted somewhere upwards, where Wanderer kept throwing careless punches, sending slashes of Anemo in the direction of a group of Eremites, who were bold enough to attack two seemingly innocuous travellers, to their misfortune.
“In a fight.” Wanderer dashed down, trampling the most durable bruiser of them. The big man grunted as his face hit the sand. Sethos didn’t give him a chance to come to his senses, grabbing his collar and lifting the man up as if he weighed nothing. Wanderer smirked at the surprising display of power.
“Eh? And who were you fighting to get the blessing of gods?” Sethos pulled the Eremite closer by his collar before landing an Electro-infused punch on his face, knocking the man out.
“Myself,” Wanderer replied, finally touching down.
“You're speaking figuratively now, right?”
Another cryptic smirk was his response. Wanderer surmised that his behaviour might be infuriating, yet he could not exactly help it. Teasing Sethos turned out to be much more entertaining than he originally thought, and it definitely brightened up his desert pastime.
“Are you coming or not?” Wanderer tugged the brim of his hat and kept moving. Sethos let out a short laugh, standing up and following his companion. He decided to not highlight the fact that Wanderer had just answered two of his questions.
For the past few days, Wanderer and Setos had been having terrible luck, time after time being caught in the middle of sandstorms after sunset, thus forced to take shelter in caves. It was the first night not marred by unpleasant natural conditions. The first thing Wanderer noted to himself was the fact that desert nights were unexpectedly cold.
Second, he had never found the stars as fascinating as they were here.
While Setos was painstakingly gathering around everything that would make a fire (‘a busy little bee, indeed,’ the puppet chuckled to himself), Wanderer was gazing up at the sky in thought. The sky, the stars – it all was a gigantic hoax, a crafted lie. What happened that this knowledge ceased to matter? It was strange, truly, how he had become more content with being among humans over the past months. Simple beings did not need anything complicated to be fulfilled, but was being simple a vice?
This thought made him wince. At this rate, he’d probably achieve some sort of bullshit enlightenment, which would only prove Nahida’s point, and he was not ready to give that sly goddess the satisfaction.
“What are you thinking about?” Sethos’ voice dragged him out of his musings. Wanderer looked back over his shoulder with a small frown that creased his eyebrows.
“Is this your question for today? Really?”
“I am genuinely curious,” Sethos smiled.
Wanderer sighed. Was it the night sky that had a calming effect on his troubled mind, or was it something else – he couldn’t tell.
“Some people were born with a purpose. A great one, at that. The ambition that promises fulfilment. Isn’t destiny a cruel thing to show them that the means to their purpose will always remain out of their reach? Isn’t it ironic that this endless pursuit turns out to be a waste of time?” Wanderer chuckled hoarsely.
“I can understand the irony,” uttered Sethos.
Wanderer tilted his head slightly, carefully watching how his companion’s expression grew more brooding.
“You do?” he asked incredulously.
Sethos replied nothing, rummaging through his travel bag and pulling out something resembling a flute.
“Would you like me to play?” Sethos inquired innocently.
“And what this thing might be?”
“This is duduk. Not exactly the most widespread instrument in Sumeru. One blonde architect offered it to me as a welcome gift when I visited Akademiya. I thought you might like its sound as much as I do.”
Wanderer hummed. For some reason, the idea was not unwelcome.
“Humour me, then.”
Sethos let out a low chuckle, finding Wanderer’s attempts at feigning indifference quite charming in their own way. He brought the instrument to his lips, breathing out a hesitant blow. A lush, gently flowing sound filled the air, making Sethos smile softly. He placed his fingers on the holes and started playing.
A sorrowful, brooding melody rang out. Sethos moved his fingers from hole to hole, smoothly, skilfully, extracting a deep, ambient sound. It was as if the melody was telling a story – of long ago, almost forgotten days of both great endeavours and painful losses. The music was full of elusive sorrow, that gave the tune a kind of ephemeral beauty. As he listened, Wanderer felt himself swept away. All the centuries-old pain of the desert, nostalgia for the glorious past and reflections on the unattainable - everything was woven into a peaceful, meditative melody. And in the midst of it rose, barely smouldering, a flame of promise. That was it.
'As long as I live, I hope.’
When Sethos finished playing, he lifted his gaze up. Wanderer stood with his back to the guy, unmoving and silent, like a marble statue. His eyes seemed to be locked on the distant dunes of the Desert of Hardamaveth. Sethos stood up slowly, standing next to his companion. He stole a quick glance at Wanderer’s face, so delicately fair underneath the moonlight. A sole wet trail on Wanderer’s cheek was enough of an implication. Suddenly, his heart gave a twinge and he looked away.
“Well…” Sethos cleared his throat awkwardly. “Did you like it?”
Wanderer huffed, putting up a front once again.
“It was decent,” he uttered.
“That’s all?” Sethos wondered with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Wanderer looked askance at him.
“What, you want me to sing praises?”
“No, no. However, I was expecting you to be at least a little nicer.” Sethos could not resist laughing out loud at the sudden snark. Tentatively he brushed Wanderer’s hand with his fingers, and, when the other didn’t flinch away (much to his surprise), took his hand into his own.
“You’re getting awfully bold,” Wanderer scoffed. However, he made no effort to remove Sethos’ hand, allowing their fingers to interlock. If this was also a part of Nahida’s plan, Sumeru might deal with another attempt at deicide in the near future. The sensation was too soothing for his liking.
“I know.” Sethos sighed contently. Before their eyes laid endless sands that reached out to the horizon, colliding with an endless false sky strewn with shimmering stars, and in the distance loomed the never-ending tornado of Mount Damavand.
“So…” Wanderer huffed nonchalantly. “Since I know that you’re no errand boy…”
He cut himself off, realising that he was actually curious to know the full story. He glanced to his side and, upon meeting Sethos’ questioning look, cussed inwardly. There was indeed no backing off now, was there?
“Tell me more.”