~^Silent Promises^~

~^Echoes of lost light^~

Aether stepped closer, his voice steady. “I don’t believe that. You’re not a curse, Xiao. You’re one of the few who still protect Liyue from the shadows. But even protectors... they need someone to stand with them. Even if they don’t ask for it.”

Xiao’s jaw clenched further, his golden eyes flickering. “You don’t understand,” he said, almost to himself. “This burden is too great. The darkness within me—within all the Yaksha—it consumes us. It always has.”

Aether stepped even closer, placing a hand on Xiao’s shoulder. “I understand more than you think. I’ve lost people I couldn’t protect. I’ve carried burdens I didn’t ask for. But that’s why we have to hold onto each other. Even if we fail, at least we’ll fail together.”

Xiao’s gaze faltered for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he stepped back, his eyes hardening once more. “And what if I fail again?” His voice was quiet but filled with uncertainty.

“I’ll be there,” Aether said simply. “Even if you do. Even if the worst happens, I’ll stand with you.”

Xiao’s breathing slowed as he stared at Aether, his golden eyes flickering with something—doubt, anger, or maybe something softer that Aether couldn’t quite name.

“I was created to protect Liyue,” Xiao said quietly, almost to himself. “But the Yaksha were never truly meant to survive. We were shields, yes, but we became consumed by the darkness we were meant to repel. One by one, we fell. Only I remain.”

Aether didn’t look away. “That doesn’t make you any less of an Adeptus—or less human.”

Xiao’s gaze hardened. “Human?” he scoffed. “I’ve lived too long in isolation. There is no one left to believe in me.”

Aether stepped closer, placing his hand gently on Xiao’s shoulder. “Maybe there doesn’t need to be anyone else. Maybe... just knowing there’s someone who believes in you, even if they’re far away, can be enough.”

Xiao’s jaw tightened, his gaze shifting to the pond again. “I was once told that I was not alone,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But they’re gone now. There’s no one left to remind me.”

Aether placed a hand on Xiao’s shoulder again, his golden eyes soft. “Maybe that’s enough.”

Xiao’s expression didn’t change, but his breathing slowed as he continued to gaze into the water. Aether could see the shadows in Xiao’s eyes, the ones that didn’t seem to fade. He knew those shadows all too well.

“I’ve lived too long in solitude,” Xiao murmured, almost as if to himself. “There is no one left to believe in me.”

Aether gave a small, hopeful smile. “Then let me be that belief.”

Xiao didn’t respond, but his gaze remained fixed on the pond. Aether could see the faintest flicker of something—uncertainty, perhaps, or a fragile hope buried deep beneath Xiao’s hardened exterior.

“I was told once that I could change the future,” Xiao said quietly, his voice distant. “But the curse never left me.”

Aether stepped closer, his voice gentle. “Maybe the future doesn’t need to be the one you fear. Maybe it’s one we can face together.”

Xiao didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the water. The silence between them stretched, the only sounds the faint rustling of the trees and the distant echoes of the Chasm far away.

“I don’t know what’s left of me,” Xiao admitted, his voice low, almost a whisper. “The Yaksha are gone. Their curse is mine to bear, and it has consumed everything. There’s nothing but shadows left.”

Aether placed a steady hand on Xiao’s shoulder. “Then we’ll face those shadows together.”

Xiao said nothing, but his gaze flickered, and for the first time, Aether thought he saw something in Xiao’s eyes that hadn’t been there before. A hint of doubt, perhaps, or a lingering hope.

“I’ve lived too long in solitude,” Xiao murmured again, his voice hollow. “There is no one left to believe in me.”

Aether gave a small, soft smile. “Maybe that’s enough.”

Xiao didn’t answer, but his gaze lingered on the water. Aether could see the weight of his struggles reflected in Xiao’s golden eyes. The Chasm trembled in the distance, its echoes growing louder.

“You remind me of someone I once knew,” Xiao said suddenly, breaking the silence. His tone was quieter, more subdued.

Aether tilted his head. “Who?”

Xiao didn’t answer immediately, his gaze distant. “Someone who saw more than just my karma. Someone who believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

Aether waited, sensing Xiao wasn’t ready to elaborate. He knew better than to push.

“I’ve lived too long in solitude,” Xiao murmured, almost to himself. “There is no one left to believe in me.”

Aether placed a hand on Xiao’s shoulder again, his gaze steady. “Then let me be that belief,” he said softly.

Xiao remained silent, his golden eyes fixed on the water. Aether could see the uncertainty and weight in Xiao’s expression. The Chasm trembled once more in the distance, and the whispers of the darkness seemed to grow louder.

“I was created to protect Liyue,” Xiao said quietly, his voice hollow. “But the Yaksha were never meant to survive. We were shields, yes, but we became consumed by the darkness we were meant to repel. One by one, we fell. Only I remain.”

Aether didn’t flinch. “That doesn’t make you any less of an Adeptus—or less human.”

Xiao’s gaze hardened. “Human?” he scoffed. “I’ve lived too long in isolation. There is no one left to believe in me.”

Aether stepped closer, placing his hand gently on Xiao’s shoulder. “Maybe there doesn’t need to be anyone else. Maybe... just knowing there’s someone who believes in you, even if they’re far away, can be enough.”

Xiao’s jaw tightened, his gaze shifting to the pond again. “I was once told that I was not alone,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But they’re gone now. There’s no one left to remind me.”

Aether placed a hand on Xiao’s shoulder again, his golden eyes soft. “Maybe that’s enough.”

Xiao’s expression didn’t change, but his breathing slowed as he continued to gaze into the water. Aether could see the shadows in Xiao’s eyes, the ones that didn’t seem to fade. He knew those shadows all too well.

“I’ve lived too long in solitude,” Xiao murmured, almost as if to himself. “There is no one left to believe in me.”

Aether gave a small, hopeful smile. “Then let me be that belief.”

Xiao didn’t respond, but his gaze remained fixed on the pond. Aether could see the faintest flicker of something—