I'll Be Here

Chained Down By Voices

It was hard to tell time in the room. The pyres would burn for about eight hours, and then the crackling sounds and the flickering light would stop. And then it was just Alatus in the dark. Time passed slower without any stimulation, but Alatus refused to let his mind travel.

The biggest part of his mind stayed focused on pulling on his chains. Every blast of Anemo energy through the material, which Alatus was almost positive wasn't actually iron, did nothing but apply more force through the incessant jangling. His shoulders stung from the stretch of his still-healing skin, and the cuffs dug into his wrists until the skin was raw. The angle of the chain forced his hands in an awkward bent position, and the muscle ached to move.

But it was fine! If he felt his mind start to think about home, think about his family, thinking about food or the sky or singing, he rattled the chains harder until he bled.

He thought about his discomfort. It was easier than thinking about anything else.

It took Zhui less time to come back than it had the first time he'd gone. He immediately wrinkled his nose upon seeing Alatus covered in rivers of blood that had trickled down his arms. "Archons. What did you do to yourself?" He reached his hand out. The chains slackened, just enough that Alatus could collapse onto his knees on the floor, but not enough that he could bend his elbows more than a few centimeters.

Alatus didn't answer. He stretched his wrists backwards, as far as they could reach, exhaling with relief.

"I brought this for you." Zhui moved closer, and Alatus distantly registered that he was still wearing his hanfu instead of armor and holding a glass bowl.

"Don't want it." These were the first words Alatus had spoken in so long. His voice rasped painfully in his ragged throat.

Zhui rolled his eyes. "Don't be a child." He lowered himself down to Alatus's eye level, grabbed his jaw roughly, and jammed a spoon into his mouth.

Alatus recoiled, ready to spit — but then the flavor of berries covered his tongue and crisp ice crushed against his teeth, soothing his throat as he reflexively swallowed. The tatters of flesh seemed to heal over, and he cautiously opened his mouth for another bite.

"That's what I thought," Zhui tutted. "I don't know why you don't just let yourself trust me."

As much as Alatus hated being alone, he hated being fed like a child by the person he'd dubbed his mortal enemy even more. "What is it?" He muttered, accepting another infuriatingly indulgent spoonful.

"Gushing oil on snow." He scraped the sides of the glass bowl, making pleasant tinkling sounds.

"Snow is food?" Alatus swallowed the next bite, feeling more refreshed and energized than he ever had before. "There's so little of it in Liyue. Where did you even get it?"

Zhui laughed at him, and Alatus mentally cursed himself for letting his curiosity take over again. "You're not the only person I interact with, Alatus. I go places. I know people." He tipped the last spoonful of snow between Alatus's lips.

Alatus crossed and uncrossed his legs, trying to work feeling back into them. The chains around his ankles clanked. He was getting really tired of that sound. "So why are you here, if you're not going to take these off today?"

Zhui arched one eyebrow and smiled. Crookedly. "I like to see you, Alatus. You're especially beautiful in chains." He laughed again when Alatus groaned in disgust. "Have you ever tried meditating?"

"Meditating? No..?" What did meditating have to do with anything?

The god waved his hand, and the empty bowl vanished. "Meditation is when you try and think deeply, or focus deeply, on one thing. Or on nothing. It really depends on who you ask," he mused. "The other worlds have their own version of meditation as well. I think the Buddhists try to think of nothing. But the others try to think of something. And then those crunchy granola people try to think of... Leafy green vegetables that they can drink."