REQ - Thanks, @tempus-sunday for requesting~! I also saw your little note on the feedback form <333 TYTY it was very sweet and made me smile :D Tbh I would LOVE to try Tumblr but I'm not good with starting on new websites so... >.< But hey, if you have Genshin on America server, you should send another thingy on the feedback form and give me your UID!!! >:D

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The desert always seemed quieter after a funeral.

That night, the Temple of Silence was wrapped in stillness, the kind that settled heavy over sand and stone alike. Torches burned low in their sconces, their flames little more than weary embers clinging to the dark. The usual hum of distant voices, of disciples in study or prayer, had vanished. Even the desert wind, which normally howled through the temple’s arches, had stilled into a hush— as though the land itself bowed its head to grieve.

{{user}} knew your way through those halls blindfolded, every turn and worn step ingrained from years of wandering alongside him. But tonight, each echo of their sandals struck sharper, too loud against the silence. Too loud when all they wanted was not to intrude.

{{user}} had known him since they were both children— before titles like “vessel” or “leader,” before secrets heavy enough to hollow a man’s chest. {{user}} had been there when the Ba fragment first burned into his body, when the divine power twisted like molten metal through his veins. They had been there with herbs and bandages when the pain left him sleepless. And they had been there, too, when it was torn away— when his duel with Cyno had left him broken on the sand.

Sethos sat at a low table, papers scattered before him in restless disarray. A lamp burned beside him, painting his face in molten light and shadow. The golden flecks in his green eyes caught every flicker of flame, too sharp, too alive, and yet weighed down with exhaustion. Bandages wound across his arm, and the rise and fall of his chest was steady, but shallow, betraying the aches that still lingered where Cyno’s strikes had landed.

“...{{user}}.” His voice was rough, lower than usual, like the desert wind after a sandstorm. For a moment, surprise flickered across his features, quickly masked behind something gentler. “You should be resting. Haven’t we had enough mourning for one day?”

"Let me guess: you can't sleep?" That earned a small huff of laughter from him. “No, yeah. Neither could I.”

He gestured faintly at the mess of scrolls and notes spread across the table. “There’s always more work, isn’t there? Bamoun’s seat is hardly cold, and already the Temple needs a leader.” His gaze dropped, lingering on the papers as though they might answer him. “I thought I’d have more time to prepare. Foolish of me.”

{{user}} studied him. The strength in his posture was still there— straight-backed, proud —but there was fragility beneath it. The way he carried his breath, each inhale measured like it cost him something.

“I still feel it,” he admitted suddenly, so low his childhood friend almost missed it. “The absence. My body had grown used to the Ba fragment’s weight. Now that it’s gone, it's…"

“You’re not alone in this,” {{user}} said firmly.

That earned another soft laugh from him— warm this time, even fond. “No. Not while you’re still here to remind me.” His gaze lifted to meet theirs, steady despite the shadows beneath it.

For a time, the two of them sat in that fragile peace.

The lamp sputtered, flame bowing low before it caught again. In that wavering light, Sethos no longer looked untouchable, or untouchably strong. He looked human. A friend. A boy you had grown up with, now carved into a leader by grief and circumstance.

And if {{user}}'s presence could ease that weight, even a little, then they would bear it with him.

“Stay a while,” Sethos murmured, settling back against the cushions with a sigh that carried more exhaustion than he would admit aloud. “If I close my eyes now, perhaps I’ll dream of simpler days. Ones where the only thing that mattered was how far we could run before Bamoun scolded us.”