The wind was howling a melancholy melody through the ruins of the Golden House, carrying the scent of shattered dreams. There he stood with his dark mane atop one crumbling pillar, he had lines of weariness on his face, scars resulting from centuries of battling demons. However, tonight, it seemed one new emotion had flickered within his amber orbs. It was the night his dearest Traveler had returned, bringing with him a whispered promise that dared to challenge his, Xiao’s, very existence: The promise of happiness.

His Traveler embodied the name of Aether, wondrous golden locks flowing along the hum of wind as he tilted his head, amusement dancing in his hazelnut gaze. “Xiao,” he began, voice a gentle breeze rustling through the Adepti Abode’s golden leaves, Aether’s voice always felt like kisses grazing his skin. Pleasant was it. His cold skin evaded with immediate warmth whenever the name rolled out from the Golden Angel’s tongue. Xiao. Xiao. “Can you name one yaksha who found happiness?”

Xiao scoffed, the sound keen to the harsh wind whipping through Chasm. “Bosacius fell protecting Liyue. Bonanus succumbed to the corruption. And Alatus,” Alatus. Himself. What had happened to him, could he recall? Without his consciousness, the Yaksha had trailed off, the weight of his past blooming a familiar burden on his shoulders.

“There you go again,” The traveler chuckled, his smile unwavering. “Being all brooding.”

His companion’s teasing wasn’t unwelcome. If anything, one could say it was one rare ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds that were Xiao’s millennia of solitude. Which is, much to his dismay. The silence may be adorning, though, had he wished things would have been different sometimes. “There is no happiness for yakshas,” He spoke, voice gruffly bittersweet.

However, the golden-haired male settled beside him, their shoulders brushing. “Can’t be,” he countered, his voice firm yet soft. “There has to be a way. You and I, we’ll find it. You’ll be the first!”

Xiao’s gaze snapped towards his companion, surprise flickering in his amber orbs. The Traveler’s hand, warm, reached for his. Swarming one jolt of electricity shot through him, a foreign sensation that both terrified and exhilarated him entering his senses.

“Swear it, Xiao,” Aether pressed, his eyes shining with an intensity that mirrored the setting sun bleeding crimson across the sky.

Gulp. Such unwavering belief, the warmth of his touch, ignited a spark within Xiao, a flicker of hope he hadn’t dared dream of. Oh, someone like him? “I—” he stammered, unable to convince his inferior-self.

But the Traveler’s smile, bright and—oh, very genuine, held him steady. “You can,” Aether whispered, his thumb brushing against the Yaksha’s knuckles.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, their gaze met. “I swear,” he rasped, vowing a promise not just to Aether; but to himself. Maybe, just maybe, happiness wasn’t such a distant dream after all.