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[pragmatism]

who zhongli and the victims of his memshare
where all around mondstadt's wilds
when throughout march
warnings will be added as they come up.

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for seonho | cw: violence, some gore, murder

[pragmatism]

Item A stone mask

[ During the Archon Wars, even the colour of the sky was different. In an era when gods fought for domination, magic ran much more wild throughout Teyvat's lands. With war came bloodshed, death, and resentment. The lingering curses of slain demons and ancient gods poisoned the land, grasping at the bodies of the living in a bid to live a second time. Humans are so fragile, compared to the gods - being caught in the crossfire was an inevitable fate. As for the gods who took it upon themselves to protect humanity - they often had to make difficult choices.

A man in a white hood and cloak makes his way through a ruined field. This was once a plot used for growing wheat, though the plants have been trampled by human and monstrous traffic alike. He heads towards one corner of the field, where a group of people were gripped by some sort of black aura. A large bird follows him, walking in a stately manner between the wheat stalks. ]

What do you see?

[ The man addresses the bird, who replies (!). ]

I see what you see, Morax. They too have fallen to the curse.

[ Morax crouches down once he's at a close distance, so that the group don't notice him. The humans are in various states of unrest, clawing at their clothes and the ground as if stricken by some sort of seizure. The sickening feeling that emanates off their bodies would be enough to nauseate any observers - but not him. ]

Hm.

[ He sighs - a weary one, amber eyes closing and reluctant to speak. ]

Well?

I suppose... we do not have a choice. I must contain the plague before it spreads any further.

[ He doesn't wait for the bird to voice her comments. Cloud Retainer takes flight, wishing to not witness what would happen next. He summons a black spear from thin air and dashes towards the group - the humans fall upon him en masse like a frenzied mob. Though they are only made of flesh and bone; his stone spears rend their bodies apart as if they were made of paper, dyeing the fields in shades of black and deep crimson. The curse rolls off the humans and tries to grasp at him, but a powerful golden light emanates from his own body, keeping the demonic magic at bay.

It ends over as quickly as it started. The moans and cries of the cursed villagers finally fall silent, and what remains is the sound of rustling reeds and the footsteps of a single human. A man slowly approaches the scene of exorcism, kneeling before Morax once he's close. The man's clothes are unkempt, and his eyes are swollen - no doubt he has been crying for a while. ]

Rex Lapis, I come to ask a boon...

[ A shadow flickers across Morax' face, but the human doesn't see it. ]

Stand. What is it?

[ The man struggles to his feet, sweeping the hair out of his face. ] My lord... you have sent Lan'er to the next world. I wish to join her.

[ That gets the god to furrow his brow, if only a little. ]

You must live. There are people who still need you here.

[ However, the man shakes his head, starting to sob again: ]

No... Please, my lord... I cannot bear living without Lan'er. I miss her so much... If only the curse took me instead of her! Please, let me repent for not protecting her... Lan'er... No....

[ The human falls to his knees again as if in prayer, his tears falling to the salted earth. Morax watches him, silent as he waits for the human to compose himself again. Eventually, he crouches down beside the hysterical human, placing a hand on his shoulder. This calms him a little, and he looks up at his god once more. All the light has vanished from his eyes. ]

Will you grant me this wish, my lord?

[ Seeing that the human cannot be convinced, Morax relents and nods. ]

I will.

[ The human closes his eyes, and Morax rises to his feet again. Death comes swiftly for the man, a stone spear blinking into existence and piercing through his chest. Unlike the battle that took place a few minutes prior, this one is clean - one strike was all it needed.



There's no way this field would bear any crops. Not for many years. ]