( private - sealed heart )

[windblume]

[ While good news carries on the wind, so does bad news. It isn't often that he receives something like this. Barbatos does not have spies, does not send sprites or wisps to spy on his neighbors... but - the wind whispers songs that carry over the centuries to those willing to listen.

Barbatos was always willing to listen to affairs with Morax. It was a week since word spread, easily, if not another. Morax may be a buffoon at times with his feelings, but Barbatos does not encroach.

He doesn't come to Morax immediately when word gets over to him of the fractured foundation that Morax was trying to build.

However, Azhdaha was more than a fissure. 

The Anemo Archon is wise in how he approaches Morax. 

Geo and Anemo do not resonate with one another. He can't sense Geo like a finder, but he knows where he was. Alone, in the cliffs of Mt. Hulao overlooking the golden sunset - that is where he knows he'll find him. He dives fast, swirling clouds with the expanse of his wings as he slows down, a small sack around his waist at his hip. Two aged wines he's buried for special occasions lay bundled away and he doesn't presume Morax would be in the mood to even receive company.

He knows what loss can do to someone, he's seen his people suffer from it -- he's felt it in his own heart. A pleasant breeze kisses against the end of his hair, brushes up to his hood... and finally, the air tastes all the more lighter. ]

Yahoo, Morax! I bring you a gift.

Comments

[meteorder]

[ Morax was never good at grieving. he reasoned his actions with contracts and duty, as if his emotions were never a factor in what was right. it was easier before Guizhong, when what was right was not tangled in a web of connection and loss. he knows what he has to do, and he did it, but even as he reasons with himself, the wound still feels raw.

the Adepti, though concerned, don't approach him about it. instead, they allow their Lord to be alone with his thoughts. he appreciates the respect, even if it leaves him lonelier than he thinks.

Barbatos' presence is noted by the Adepti, especially Xiao, who had been patrolling the base of the mountain to ensure the safety of the Geo Archon in mourning – though he'd never admit as much. Morax had been on Mt. Hulao for five days without taking leave, watching the sun set and the moon rise each time. his hands were folded on the stone table in front of him, face set in a grim line like a statue. he hardly looks up when Barbatos announces his presence with familiar greetings and a bottle of wine. it takes a moment to register. ]

You came a long way, but I cannot guarantee that I'm the best of company right now, Barbatos.

[ well, at least he seems to have figured that out. ]

[windblume]

[ He can't imagine what Morax is going through.

It's... different. He knew little of Liyue affairs, but he knows what this meant. It wasn't a statement of power, it was a curse that Morax must deal with... a burden.

If not Morax, who would have prevented chaos?

That expression wouldn't be much different to those who had come across the other side of Morax's weapon. Barbatos notes the differences – how restrained it was and truthfully... he feels the imprisonment that Morax places upon himself. It pains him, truly, being the God of Freedom – but he ignores his own discomfort for a moment... because Morax was not grieving like mortals would.

He doesn't know how.

To grieve is a mortal thing, something finite and with a start and end. One day, no matter if it is in life or death, grieving does stop. That truth is unavoidable, but... Barbatos doesn't like to think about it. He has his own set of issues that he holds to his chest.

Morax's reaction is more gentle than he anticipated. Be gone, Barbatos. Not today! That is how he pictured the stuffy Archon... but. He keeps his distance, careful – only because he feels pity. ]

Oh, that's fine. [ He fetches out a bottle of wine and wags it around. ] This is for me. My gift is my company, with no reciprocation needed.

[meteorder]

[ perhaps one day the pain will soften, but Morax doubts it. he vows, instead, to carve it into an edge of stone, to create a weapon of such precision, that all suffering may be ended by it. for the break in a contract is a break in a contract, no matter what circumstances may surround it. there have been many that have broken their words with him, though Morax could easily finish them in his fury, rather than confront the loss. ]

You are as insufferable as ever.

[ there is a barb there, perhaps as a last ditch effort to chase him off, but in the end, it has no bite behind it. he just sounds tired. ]

You needn't play the fool, I'm certain that you've already caught the word on the wind.

[ he'd rather not play around, where that's involved. ]

[windblume]

Would you believe me to be Barbatos if I were any other way?

[ He knows it is difficult. How can it not be? There was something vulnerable – a tiny crack that Morax was most likely unable to patch up... to ignore... Barbatos knows he'll have to live with it until the ends of his days.

Such brutish denial doesn't scare him off. Instead, he inches closer with that wingspan all but a flutter. ]

I have, but...

[ There was a wag of his bag at his hip. ]

I planned to visit you regardless, old friend. Don't tell me you're one to cancel plans we made months ago.

[ Truthfully, all he does is confirm with a sympathetic smile. Soft, small, and timid. ]