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When Morax first met Barbatos, he thought he was a foolish, naive god. Barbatos didn’t govern his country like the other archons, instead, he left it to his people to decide their fate.
To Morax, this was preposterous. Humans were fickle creatures. While many gods lauded humans for their tenacity and spirit, they suffered in exchange with their short lifespans that rendered many incapable of seeing beyond the immediate future.
This is where he came in. Humans had the agency in their day-to-day lives with careful influence from him to ensure they would eventually prosper. His word was law, and the people respected this.
Every year they awaited his divine predictions and they set to work. The city and landscape may have changed over the centuries, but like the contracts he forges, this one never breaks.
“Have you ever thought about retiring?” Barbatos asks him one day. The Anemo Archon swings his legs lazily over the edge of the cliff face overlooking Liyue Harbor, head tilting back and forth no doubt from a song in his mind.
“Such fanciful thoughts,” Morax huffs, not turning away from his work desk. “So long as the people need me, I will uphold my duty to Liyue. This is the contract I forged with them now over a thousand years ago, Barbatos.”
Barbatos hummed, fingers drumming on the dirt. “I worry about you, you know.”
This catches Morax’s attention. With a gentle exhale, he sets the contact down. “There is no need to worry about me, Barbatos. I am perfectly well.”
“But for how long?” Barbatos questions. “You know as well as I there will come a day that erosion claims us both. It’s happened to those before us, and it will happen long after we’re both gone.”
Morax frowns, pushing his chair back to sit beside Barbatos.
“Where are these thoughts coming from?” He asks.
Barbatos doesn’t look at him. Instead, his gaze is turned toward Mondstadt. His fingers pick up pace, now an allegro from the once calm larghissimo.
“Something big is coming.” Barbatos begins. “I don’t know what, but I feel it in the wind. Surely you feel the same thing?”
Morax nods solemnly. “There have been more monsters as of late and tremors that are not my own doing. But what does this have to do with erosion?”
Barbatos reaches over and gently grasps Morax’s hand in his own. For the first time, Barbatos faces him and Morax sees unshed tears.
“I’m starting to forget things, Morax.” Barbatos whispers, so softly the wind has to carry it to his ears. “I can hardly remember Cecil’s face anymore. Do I still look like him? How can I forget someone so important to me?”
Barbatos begins to sob, hiccuping as he tries to continue. Morax pulls Barbatos into his lap, rubbing soothing circles into his back as he tucks his head under his chin.
“You look the same as the day I first met you, Barbatos.” The Lord of Geo says after a while. “There are people too that are on the fringes of my memory. It’s to be expected when you have a lifespan as long as ours.”
Barbatos chokes out a bitter laugh. “I suppose, but it doesn’t soothe the pain any less.” He sniffles, reaching up to wipe away tears. “Sleeping seems to stave it off, but I was already ancient long before I became an archon. I just worry about my children, you know? Who will come after me…will they take care of them or will another Decarabian take my place?”
“All reasonable thoughts to have. Have you thought of a successor?”
Barbatos nodded his head. “Unlike Liyue, Mondstadt doesn’t exactly have a lot of choices. The only candidate really is Dvalin, but we both know their opinion on that.”
Morax hummed in agreement. “He is still quite young by dragon standards.”
“You would know, you old fossil!” Barbatos smirks, giving him a light jab in the chest.
Morax can’t find it in himself to bite back at his remark, happy to see even a small smile on Barbatos’ face.
“Will you be staying for dinner?”
“Of course, blockhead, I’m not flying back on an empty stomach. Oh, and be sure to break out the good wine! I heard Liyue had a great harvest this year. I wonder who we have to thank for that?”
Morax watches as Barbatos runs ahead of him to the small abode, wings trailing behind him. A genuine smile works its way to Morax’s face at Barbatos’ antics, shaking his head as he follows the wind god inside.
Peaceful times never last. That was one of the harsh truths Morax learned very early in his life.
He only saw Barbatos at the end of the Cataclysm when they were in Khaenri’ah. He had heard reports of a tainted dragon roaming the skies above Mondstadt, and judging by the state Barbatos was in, they appeared to be true.
Morax only had enough time to place a hasty kiss on Barbatos’ lips, telling him to be safe and to retreat if things ever became too much.
He should’ve known better than to trust Barbatos’ judgment. The Anemo Archon may not have been a warrior at heart, but he fought with every ounce of strength he had when it came to his children’s safety.
First Egeria fell. Then Makoto. Rukkedehvata’s presence faded.
He and Barbatos lay alone on the battlefield, the latter’s eyes barely open. Mavuika and the Tsaritsa’s whereabouts unknown to them.
“Morax?”
“Yes, Barbatos?”
Barbatos’ breaths and whimpers grew quieter, the abyssal contamination running through his veins making it difficult for him to move. “Can you take me home?”
“Of course, qīn'ài de.”
Morax took his dragon form, scooping Barbatos into his claws carefully and ascending back to Teyvat.
Morax paid no attention to the time that passed, focused only on Barbatos and ensuring his survival. He cares not if the mortals see him race through the skies to Mondstadt. No, saving Barbatos was his priority.
The only grace he maintains is landing in front of Windrise and gently laying Barbatos on the ground. Immediately, Barbatos sighs in relief.
“Lady Vennessa, I ask for your aide!” Morax shouted. “Barbatos is gravely ill and needs you!”
A falcon drops from the tree, transforming into the first Dandelion Knight.
“Rex Lapis,” She says, bowing her head. “Thank you for bringing Lord Barbatos to me. I will do everything in my power to heal him.” Vennessa parted Barbatos’ sweat-soaked bangs, inspecting his injuries. “However his wounds are quite severe. I cannot guarantee his survival.”
Morax’s nails dug into the palm of his hands and his fangs threatened to pierce his lips. “I am aware. Please, do everything you can.”
Barbatos’ body disappeared with a flourish of wind.
Vennessa placed a hand on Morax’s shoulder. “Of course, now go and see to yourself. I’m sure your country needs you as well. Andrius or I will find a way to notify you of any news.”
“Thank you, Lady Vennessa. If there is anything I can do to be of assistance, please let me know.”
Venessa smiled and too was gone with the wind.
Ten years pass without any news from Vennessa or Andrius.
Morax had been busy rebuilding Liyue and instructing the Qixing to send aid to Mondstadt where they could spare it. After all, they wouldn’t have been able to stave off the invasion without Barbatos' intervention. Plus, Mondstadt was suffering year after year from harvest failures due to the poison from one of the sinner’s creations. Mondstadt had always helped Liyue in their time of need, so it made sense for them to do the same.
That and he or may not be smitten with their archon, but the mortals didn’t need to know that.
Morax continued to wait, looking in the direction of Mondstadt as he listened to Cloud Retainer drone on about her latest inventions.
If there is one thing he has, it’s patience.
Fifty years go by without news. Barbatos has slept for longer. Morax knows this, but he can’t help but be worried. Surely he would have heard something by now?
He decides to do what he does best. He throws himself into his work.
One hundred years go by and he still hasn’t heard any news.
Morax decides to do something he’s never done before of his own accord. He goes to Mondstadt.
Not the city itself, no. He teleports to Windrise hoping to find Vennessa.
He calls upon her like he did a century ago, only to hear his voice echo into the open field.
Dejected, he returns to Liyue.
He tries again another 100 years later only for the exact same thing to happen. This time, however, he decides to visit Andrius.
Although the wolf-god isn’t keen on others intruding upon his domain, Morax likes to think he’s waited a respectable amount of time.
Morax walks forward toward the border of Wolvendom, Andrius’ wolves approaching cautiously with hackles raised.
“Peace,” Morax says, raising his hand to indicate he means no harm. “I come merely to speak with Andrius regarding Lord Barbatos and Lady Vennessa.”
The wolves look amongst themselves, when one howls and indicates for Morax to follow them deeper into the territory. After a few minutes of walking, a clearing appears with a ghostly claymore stuck in the ground. The wolf sits beside it, gesturing to it with its head.
Morax places his hand on the claymore and the temperature plummets.
“Rex Lapis,” The ghostly voice echoes in his mind, clearly unhappy at being bothered. “What are you doing in my territory?”
“Ah, Andrius.” Morax begins, crossing his arms in front him to maintain his professional appearance. “I apologize for disturbing you, but I was hoping you’d have an update regarding Barbatos? Lady Vennessa said you or her would inform me of his condition, yet more than two centuries have passed without a word.”
Andrius hums and it resonates throughout the clearing. “So I take it you haven’t noticed, then?”
Morax is immediately on edge. “Noticed what, exactly?”
“They are silent.” Andrius says, head up in the direction of Celestia.
“What do you mean by that? Be straightforward with me, Andrius.”
Andrius growls, eyes narrowing. “You may be an archon, but you will respect me in my domain, Rex Lapis.”
Morax swallows the retort dancing on the tip of his tongue. “My apologies, Andrius. Please, continue.”
“It is as I said.” Andrius begins, swishing his tail in agitation. “They have been silent. No one has left that place. You have no news for that reason. I have not seen Vennessa since she told me she was taking Barbatos to Celestia to heal the corruption–”
“She did what?! ”
“Silence! Do you wish to know or must I remove you from Mondstadt myself?”
Bile threatened to spill from Morax’s lips. Why would she ever consider that? He asked himself. They are not to be trusted, surely she knows that?
Morax clears his throat. “Again, my apologies, Andrius. My emotions seem to be getting the better of me today.”
“I agree with your sentiment.” The wolf-god says instead, not acknowledging Morax’s apology. “I said the same thing to her, but she said that it was the only way to heal Barbatos. Then, she was gone and silence has reigned. That is all I know.”
Morax calls on his gnosis, feeling for the tie to Celestia. He can feel the power thrumming in his chest from his place on the divine throne. However, he can’t feel anything else.
It’s as Andrius said. He thinks, horrified. What reason do they have to shut everyone from Celestia–even the archons?!
Morax schools his expression, deciding he will ponder the topic later. Alone.
“Thank you, Andrius.”
“Be careful, Rex Lapis.” Andrius’ voice echoes as his ethereal body fades away. “Steel yourself for what is to come. Barbatos will be devastated if something were to happen to you.”
Many years later, Barbatos and Andrius’ warnings echo in his mind. He can see the cogs in the machine working between the stagnant pace humanity seems to be at, the exploding monster population, and the Tsaritsa’s scheming.
His time has come.
Precisely five hundred years after the cataclysm began, Morax finds himself in Mondstadt City for the first time. He sighs, having promised Barbatos that the first time he finally visits the bard could give him the grand tour of the city and the inhabitants he holds so dear to his heart.
He tells the guards he’s merely there to find suitable woods for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s business. After showing the proper paperwork (and one of the guards muttering about how macabre his profession could be), he was free to explore the city.
Upon entering, he sees a young girl at a stand arranging a variety of flowers.
“My children thought of an excellent way for their prayers to reach me!” He recalls Barbatos telling him many years ago. “Although I can hear their prayers and devotion through the wind itself, when it comes to matters of the heart, they whisper their feelings to a dandelion and let the seeds scatter to the wind. Isn’t that romantic?”
“Romantic indeed,” Morax whispers, a faint smile gracing his lips at the memory.
He approaches the stand and begins browsing the flowers. The small child smiles and offers him a polite wave.
“Hello, sir!” She says in Teyvatan, heavily accented. “I’m Flora, can I help you?”
“Hello Flora,” He responds in Mondstadtan, the girl visibly deflating in relief. “I was looking to purchase some dandelions. Oh, are those cecilias?”
“Wow, your Mondstadtan is really good, sir!” Flora says. “They are. Would you like some of those as well? I’d be happy to wrap them up for you. What’s the occasion?”
“Ah, well, you see….” Morax ponders for a moment. “I lost a very close friend of mine a number of years ago from Mondstadt, and I’d like to offer some flowers for him.”
Flora nods her head. “Aw, that’s very sweet of you! Just give me a minute and I’ll make a nice bouquet for you.”
Morax nods as the young girl packages his flowers. She’s quick and efficient. “That will be 1,500 Mora, sir!”
He smiles and reaches behind his back, making a show of digging into his pockets for the Mora. With a quick flick of his wrist, Mora coins fill his hand. He drops 3,000 Mora into her waiting hand.
Flora immediately rejects the overpayment, but he stops her with a gentle hand as he takes the flowers from her. “Please, Flora, it’s the least I can do for listening to an old man. Thank you for your assistance.”
“W-well, okay. Thank you, sir!”
With one more polite nod, Morax makes his way to the highest point of Mondstadt. The city is lively with bards in abundance, singing merry tunes and dancing for Mora.
He slips Mora into every hat as he passes.
Eventually, he reaches the statue of Barbatos. In the setting sun, the visage is ethereal.
But it pales in comparison to the real Barbatos.
Morax kneels before the statue, placing the bouquet of cecilias down with a quiet reverence. Quietly, he stands and clasps his hands in prayer with the dandelions right below his lips.
“Barbatos,” he whispers quietly, emotion thickening his voice. “I miss you dearly. I have thought long and hard about what you said to me all those years ago. It’s finally time for me to step into the shadows, just as you did all those years ago….
“I will continue to hold out hope that one day you will return to me, qīn'ài de. As I told you once a lifetime ago, I have no regrets in meeting you. Even now, in the centuries I have not seen you, you continue to shine like gold in my memories, Barbatos.”
Morax inhales and blows the dandelion seeds away.
Perhaps it’s wishful thinking, but he swears the wind caressed his face.
But for now, duty calls. One last time.