Chapter Text
His sleep is plagued by abstract monsters, claws and fangs, and inhuman screeches. He runs and runs — through the halls of the royal palace swallowed in flames; through the woods around Dawn Winery, rapidly approaching howls sounding from behind his back — he trips over the old cobblestone ruins and falls. Suddenly he is on wet ground, a storm raging all around him, a man-made firebird hurling towards him, flames bright with hate unleashed from the blade of his brother’s sword. The smell of burning flesh suddenly overshadowed by frigid cold. He closes his eye, and unlike real life, he doesn’t scream.
When he opens his eye again, it’s to a bag being torn off his head. Eroch’s men stand all around him, looking down from above, they snicker, faces twisted beyond recognition, barely human hands grab at him, claws digging into burned flesh.
In between his dreams, he wakes but only barely. The world around him makes no sense — built only out of blurry shapes and foreign sounds — his vision swims and everything hurts. He never manages to keep his eye open long enough for the world to sharpen.
He slips back into the darkness and sometimes he is lucky enough to stay there for a bit, plagued not by monsters but a feeling of unease. Like someone is watching him from the shadows, burning holes into the back of his head. But before he collects the courage to turn around, claws pull him forward by the lapels of his shirt and another round of nightmares starts.
He is not sure how long he spends running, falling, and waking before he stands in the darkness again. Something’s watching him. He stands frozen in place for a long time, waiting for shadow hands to appear and drag him away but they never come. Instead, he gets swallowed by a feeling of immense dread. Slowly, like moving through molasses, he manages to turn around.
At first, there’s only darkness, like it always is. And then, a pair of golden eyes blink at him through the dark. He stands frozen for a moment too long, a wave of fear suddenly washing over him. The eyes gain a head and before he knows it, he is trapped in the maws of a beast. He screams at last.
Liyue is a land of as many tales as its mountains.
One of the tales goes a little something like this.
The Great Golden Dragon resides in an abode outside of the reach of ordinary men. He only ever descends to the mortal realm for two reasons - to carry out punishment and to share his infinite wisdom on the Rite of Descension.
It is said, one may reach him in his abode only when their heart sings to righten its deepest regrets.
There’s a gate somewhere in the depths of the land over which the divine beasts rule. One must make their way through it nine times - once for every pillar that holds up the Heavens. And if their heart is pure, the Heavens shall open for them and they shall stand before the Great Golden Dragon.
Kaeya wakes up screaming - and immediately breaks down into a coughing fit. He must have been screaming for a long time. His throat is sore and he keeps dry heaving long after he is done coughing.
A ceramic cup appears by his mouth and he drinks. Cool water soothes his parched throat. Some of the water runs down his chin but he doesn’t stop drinking until it’s empty.
Only when his thirst has been quenched, does he wonder where the cup came from. He flexes his fingers and realizes that they are by his sides. Tears turn his vision into watery shapes. Panic seizes his chest.
His hands shoot out to scramble weakly around the cup, fingers digging into flesh when they find it. Whoever is holding the pitcher seems to get the message and retreats. He wipes away his tears and finally relaxes, though it doesn’t last long.
Kaeya looks around briefly, trying to take in his surroundings. He only manages to deduce that he is definitely not in Mondstadt anymore before the sun streaming in from the nearby window hits him straight into his eye and he is forced to squint. There’s a dull pain starting to throb in his temple.
“Good, you are finally awake.”
He startles at the voice, still a bit slow from sleep. He turns his head to his right where the voice came from and he is met with a sight of a man refilling a cup from a pitcher. He is standing by a dark wood console table, previously just out of Kaeya’s field of vision.
Kaeya absentmindedly reaches to rub his right eye. It’s itchy. He finds bandages instead of his usual eyepatch.
The man is tall and broad-shouldered. He is dressed in a black round-collared robe with golden embroidery sprawling across his chest and around the sleeve hems, from underneath the collar peek out the tips of a white shirt, and his loose pants are tucked into a tall set of boots.
“Where-“ Kaeya coughs. His throat is still painfully sore, enough that it almost brings tears to his eyes again.
The man crosses the room swiftly, handing him the cup of water with a quiet “Here” . Kaeya gladly accepts it.
“You are in Liyue, you`ve been out with a high fever for a couple of days. I found you lying by the side of the road in the rain,” the man says, attempting to answer Kaeya’s question.
Something about it doesn't sit quite right with Kaeya. It sets off warning bells in his head but he's not yet sure why. What was he doing in Liyue in the first place? His fingers finally worm their way under the bandages and scratch his eye. It burns.
“Thank you,” he croaks out anyway.
The bandages come loose from his fiddling with them and fall down around his head. He shakes them off and brushes his fringe a little more over his eye to hide it.
“Your eyepatch was dirty and you had scratches all over your face, I had to take it off so they wouldn't get infected-” the man keeps talking but Kaeya’s not listening anymore. He stares right at his head, frozen. There’s something there. At first, he thinks it's just the light playing tricks on him. He rubs his eyes and looks again.
He backs away, gets tangled in the bedsheets, and falls from the bed. He keeps staring.
The man startles from his monologue about whatever and looks at Kaeya. “Are you alright?” He takes a step forward but stops when he sees Kaeya crawl backward away.
He looks at the ceiling, seemingly trying to follow Kaeya’s line of sight. He finds nothing on the ceiling and thus returns his sights back to Kaeya. The man cocks his head to the side, long ponytail swishing with movement.
“What is it?”
“H-h- horns,” Kaeya manages to croak out.
Shimmering golden horns.
The man’s hands fly to his head, patting a bit frantically around his hair. They go straight through the horns, which only shimmer a little brighter but otherwise don’t change.
“Horns?” the man says, frowning.
Kaeya manages to nod from where he has pressed himself into the wall across the room, armed with a candle holder.
“You can see them?” The man looks just as bewildered as Kaeya feels. His hand comes to rest against his chin and Kaeya starts feeling faint. There are shimmering golden claws around his fingers. He points, trying to articulate his thoughts but then a peculiar movement catches his attention from the corner of his eyes. He looks next to the man just in time to see a shimmering tail sway around.
He faints.
Kaeya doesn’t recall much of Khaenri’ah. Not on his own. It comes back to haunt him every night in his dreams. Every night his dreams are filled with thick smoke that chokes him and tears that continue to fall down his face long after he wakes up.
There’s only one thing that he remembers clear as day. Only one thing that he brought with him in his heart the day he arrived in Mondstadt and kept there ever since. It’s not his mother’s face, nor his birth father’s. It’s not the food. It’s not the language, whose intonations sound foreign to him if they even leave his mouth.
It is a simple proverb. One that every Khaenri’an knows. One that’s been drilled into their heads every day for as long as Khaenri’ah existed.
“Do not trust those of other flesh for their tongues are dipped in deceit and their words are never what they seem.”
Now, this was, of course, always followed by:
“Do not trust those of human flesh for their mouths never sing what their hearts do.”
This was because Khaenri’ans never trusted anyone. For a good reason, it turned out.
When he comes to, he is back in the bed and his prized candle holder has been moved to the other side of the room. The light streaming through the window is orange now and the shadows are longer. He is alone.
But not for long.
Soon the door opens and the creature pokes its head in. Its amber eyes glance around the room before they settle on Kaeya. He glares back.
It sighs and slips into the room. It hovers by the door, its hesitation clear in its stance. In the end, it moves to stand in the middle of the room, in front of Kaeya’s bed while still keeping a bit of space between them.
“So-“
“Creature-“
They both start talking at the same time. Silence fills the room. The monster levels him with an unimpressed stare.
“I’m a dragon if you must.”
A dragon.
A shape-shifting dragon.
Kaeya swears he can feel his heart skip a beat. Or several. That bastard Eroch. It all comes back to him.
“Yanwang Dijun-“ he gasps and then, a realization, “you are going to eat me.”
The dragon frowns at this. His horns are no longer shimmering, now they seem solid. Dark brown where they sprout from equally brown locks and slowly grow to change into a slightly luminescent gold at the tips.
“I’m going to do no such a thing, little prince.”
Kaeya’s blood grows cold. Of course , his right eye. The dragon must’ve recognized it. Now, he is truly screwed. He is going to die torn into tiny little pieces.
“Don’t call me that,” he says, venom dripping from his tongue and his sense of preservation must have stayed in Mondstadt because where is this false bravado going? His blood turns from ice cold to boiling.
“Oh?” the dragon hums,” well, then I suppose we should start again. My name is Zhongli.”
Kaeya stares at it for a long moment, a storm brewing behind mismatched eyes. The dragon holds his gaze. There’s a mischievous air to its actions, Kaeya already hates this.
He gives up.
“Kaeya. My name is Kaeya Alberich.”
“Kaeya,” the dragon echoes and offers him a small smile,“ Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kaeya.”
Kaeya glares.
Zhongli would really appreciate it if people stopped bringing him human offerings in an effort to negate the consequences of breaking a contract. You cannot escape the wrath of the rock - mortals should know that by now. He would also really like to talk to whichever mortal came up with the idea that dragons eat humans. That he eats humans.
He looks at the shivering figure curled up on the makeshift altar. He can sense the pulse of a summoning sigil coming off of them.
When he comes closer, he finds it weaved into the ropes that tie the offering. It is beautifully carved, a work of a true ancient master. Whoever had brought him this offering was rich, powerful, and scared of the consequences of their actions. It is a shame for them that it will not help.
Up close, Zhongli can tell that it’s a young man. His brown skin is cold and clammy to the touch, his face is covered in scratches and finger-shaped bruises are starting to blossom around his throat.
Zhongli carefully slashes the ropes with his spear and collects the man in his arms. He doesn’t wake up, only subconsciously leans towards warmth. His clothes are wet from the rain that fell earlier today.
He makes sure to pick up the sigil before he disappears as silently as he has arrived.
The dragon has a nice voice. Smooth and deep but not gravely. With rhythm and tone that show elegance and wisdom. It would be easy to get lost in the cadence of it.
It’s fitting of the dragon, Kaeya muses. A soothing voice to weave cruel tricks into foolish mortals’ minds without setting a seed of doubt.
Kaeya knows a thing or two about it.
“So, Kaeya, you have a simple choice before you - I can return you back to the Ordo and tell them that their request has been denied or you will stay for a while and I will make a wish of yours come true,” the dragon speaks, clearly ignorant (or perhaps unaware) of Kaeya’s disdain.
Kaeya ignores the pang of fear at the mention of Ordo, “A wish? What wish?”
“Anything you’d like - as long as it's in my capabilities.”
Kaeya scoffs, “And what would that be? I don’t need any help making contracts, we have documentation for that now.”
The dragon chuckles, “Of course, I may be the patron of contracts but that’s not all I am. I have been around for a long time and there are many things I or my acquaintances can help you with. Be it a new identity, immense wealth, or,” the dragon trails off, “ perhaps getting revenge on the current Inspector of the Knights of Favonius would be more up your alley? The choice is all up to you, it is your wish after all.”
“You can’t expect me to believe that you will grant me a wish if I just keep you company,” Kaeya narrows his eyes at Zhongli, the accusatory tone clear as day in his voice,” what kind of company?”
The mortal is smart, Zhongli is actually getting a bit excited now. Hopefully, he will accept his proposition. “I want a story, entertainment if you will. I have been alive for a long time and I know a great tale when I see one.”
A look of disbelief paints Kaeya’s face for a moment, though Zhongli’s not quite sure why. He thought he was being very clear. He has acquired the reputation of “The Listener” for a reason.
“A story?“
Zhongli nods. “Yes, I want you to tell me about your life.”
“So, I tell you my life story and in turn you make my wish come true?”
“Yes, but I must warn you beforehand - there’s nothing I can do about Khaenri’ah, I cannot go against the divine will.”
“And you expect me to trust you to fulfill your promise?”
“There would be a contract, of course,” Zhongli feels the corner of his lips turn upwards at Khaenri'an's unimpressed expression. “Hear me out, please?”
He gets a shrug in return.
“We will sit over there,” he gestures to the small seating area under the window,” and we will talk. You will tell me a small bit of your journey so far and in turn, you can ask me anything you’d like. For the duration of our talk, we will both be absolutely honest.”
“And if I lie or you don't like my story, I'll get eaten?”
Zhongli sighs.“No, I will simply deliver you to the nearest village and leave you to your own devices. Dragons do not eat humans.”
“How do I know you aren’t just saying that so you can chomp me down while I’m relaxed.”
It is Zhongli's turn to level the other with an unimpressed stare. “If I wanted to eat you, wouldn’t I have done it by now? You were unconscious until a little while ago.”
“You said it yourself, I had a fever, I still do a little bit. I imagine humans don’t taste great when sick.”
“Humans don’t taste great at all,” he mutters under his breath and immediately regrets it when he sees Kaeya break into an impish grin.
“Oh? And how would you know?”
Zhongli doesn’t rise to the bait. “You will come to no harm - be it from mine or anyone else’s hands - for as long as we have a contract. And If you so wish, after the contract has been fulfilled, we won’t ever have to see each other again and I will not interfere with your life in any way.”
Kaeya seems to consider his proposition for a long moment, with a hand propping up his chin and bright eyes, even through the fever. His eyebrows scrunch in thought. “Do I have to sit locked in here for however many days and wait until it gets dark, or am I allowed to stretch my legs?”
“It is up to you when we start. It’s also up to you to decide if you’d rather stay for a week or longer, but you cannot leave this domain until we fulfill our contract. You can explore the place on your own, but you can’t leave without my permission.”
“If I won’t agree to your contract, what will you do?”
“I will wait until you get better and hand you over to my disciples so that they return you back to the people that brought you here in the first place. It seems that there are plenty of misconceptions about me that need to be corrected.”
He’d like to think he managed to hide his amusement well when Kaeya visibly stiffened at his words. He turns on his heel and heads toward the door. “I will give you some time to think about it.”
He is halfway through the door when he hears it.
“Wait!”
Zhongli turns around in the doorway and looks at the other. “Yes?”
His expression is conflicted but there is a slump to his shoulders that speaks of resignation. “I accept your contract.”
“Are you sure you don't want to think about it more?”
Kaeya shakes his head and Zhongli allows himself a small smile. “Wonderful. We have a contract then.“