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„Scorpions tend to stay buried under the sand, so careful where you step,” Tighnari says, and with that last piece of advice, they part. The boys turn towards the exit of Caravan Ribat. The men to the giant banners advertising a Genius Invocation TCG event. It’s a little tempting to stay with them, but alas, adventure calls! Besides, the event is scheduled to last for three days. Surely they’ll find a moment. Later.
„Your commissioner is taking part, right?” Bennett asks, arms behind his head, walking backwards so that he can look at them. Razor’s fingers wiggle in the way Gaming knows means he’s checking the weight of his claymore in the pocket space. Cautious as ever. Gaming does the same; they’re safe in the city, but he wouldn’t be surprised if an ambush waited just beyond its walls. Just to be sure, he sends Man Chai on ahead.
„Yup!” he answers, chuckling, once the little rascal takes off. „He heard about the event and rushed here with nothing but a pouch of mora and his deck. Clothes, books and toiletries he left to me.”
He’s pretty sure the man isn’t going to read during the event at all, but who is he to judge? He would’ve done the same.
Razor gives him a small smile. „Good job.”
„Oh, please!” Gaming laughs, „You two carried them half the time! I shouldn’t be getting paid for this!”
Bennett grins, skipping between them and throwing his arms around both their necks. „You’re a guard! You’re there to protect the transport! And protect you did!”
He’s not wrong — his agency does specialize in guarding the goods (and customers, when needed). But even the higher-ups know not many customers would pay separately for a courier and a guard; so when packages are small enough, only the latter is dispatched, for only a bit higher than the standard price. That’s why Vision Holders are so valuable—small becomes relative. This job, for example, would require three or four people for the transport; but with Gaming’s ability to shove everything but the books into the pocket space, they only had to pay one person. Cheaper for the customer, cheaper for the management. And since the price is calculated by the weight and the distance, his pay was also higher. Wins all around!
(He’s still going to sneak mora into the others’ pockets. They deserve it.)
***
The desert is beautiful. Golden and bronze, full of ruins just waiting to be explored. Mysterious and intimidating, but also strangely inviting. No matter where they look, there’s something new to discover. Scorpions do indeed pop out of nowhere, not that it could ever deter them. They keep stumbling into interesting fauna and even more curious puzzles.
It is, however, a bit troublesome to traverse. The sand is everywhere. At this point, mainly in their boots.
„Um, guys?” Bennett pipes up when Gaming is pouring the stuff out of his shoe for the tenth time this hour. The sun is getting low on the horizon, painting the ruins in a gorgeous scarlet hue. But Bennett sounds nervous, so Gaming doesn’t spare another second to appreciate the view.
Even though he can’t see him, Razor is seemingly of similar mind, „Lupical?”
„Don’t look now, but remember that time we were ambushed in the rainforest..?”
„Please no,” Gaming bemoans. Then he raises his head and sniffs a little inside his mind.
There are, indeed, several Pyro Mages advancing the staircase. As if the sand wasn’t already bad enough. How are they supposed to fight with such unsteady footing?
How does Cyno do it?
„Both of you, behind me,” Razor says, tone not only no-nonsense, but grave. No doubt recalling that particular fight. It’d taken him weeks to get over it, and now he’s got to relive the memory. Gaming’s heart aches as if stabbed with a thousand needles. He doesn’t even bother putting his shoe back on. Just lets it dissolve in his hand. He can summon it later.
Sensing their rising stress, Man Chai yips low in his throat, rubbing against Razor’s ankles. Gaming immediately scoops him up, backing away with Bennett behind him.
„Quiet now,” he murmurs into the fur. Man Chai headbutts his chin before scrambling onto his shoulder.
Oh, he hates leaving Razor to take the blunt of the fight; but he already knows they aren’t much help in this scenario. It would be much worse if they got hurt and Razor had to drag them to safety as well.
„I think we passed an intact room in one of the lower corridors,” Bennett whispers, pressed along Gaming’s side, lip red between his teeth.
The ruin they’re currently in is, technically, three stories tall. Technically, because the ground floor is half-buried under the sand. They’ve only spent a few minutes on the next, looking for a usable staircase. They’re now on the third floor, which houses only a single room. An enormous one, empty safe for a complex puzzle. They’ve only just finished checking it out. One of the far walls has collapsed, which explains all the sand. No way to hide, too risky to fight.
To top it off, there’s only one exit. The staircase from which the enemies are nearing.
Unless…
Gaming’s eyes drift towards the crumbled wall. He’s pretty sure…If they’re fast enough…He nods resolutely. Better that than a brawl. Peeling his shirt away from his skin for Man Chai to scramble into, he wraps his free hand around Bennett’s wrist.
„On my mark, run like the librarian’s chasing you.” He’s heard enough horror stories of Miss Lisa to be terrified of ever returning a book late even all the way in Liyue. She might be Razor’s teacher, but that only strengthens the impression.
He sees Razor nod. Man Chai sticks his head out of the shirt with a worried rumble. Gaming eyes the distance, double checking they won’t get stuck in the sand. Again.
„Twenty paces to the left,” he murmurs. The mages are nearly at the top of the staircase now. It’s pure luck Bennett stood in a spot that let him notice them first. But the angle won’t help them now; to get to the opening, they’ll have to pass right in front of them.
Still better than being chased in the hallways, Gaming decides. „Go!”
He pulls Bennett along as he springs into motion, Razor falling into step without hesitation. The monsters screech upon seeing them; the snap of the gliders drown them out. A column of flame bursts right behind them. As they maneuver to slip into one of the lower-level windows, Gaming catches sight of the Pyro Mages hovering in the opening. For a moment, his blood freezes in his veins. Are they going to chase them? Gods know they don’t need solid ground to follow. But then the mages leave, clearly having decided the pursuit isn’t worth the effort.
Landing behind the others, Gaming breathes a sigh of relief.
Only to come face-to-face with a Mitachurl and Friends.
Those they could fight, but they’re already exhausted from exploring, unused to the unforgiving desert sun. Not to mention, none of them are used to fighting in such narrow places.
Before Gaming can come to a decision, a hand is pushing his head down. „Duck!”
He ducks. Comes out in a roll to the slight of Bennett sliding between the mitachurl’s legs.
„This way!”
Gaming doesn’t think about it; he jumps to his feet and runs. Man Chai, who tumbled out of his shirt during the roll (exactly as they’ve practiced; he’s getting so many treats later), bounces on ahead. Twice he pounces onto a hilichurl’s mask and brings them to the floor with his weight. After this, Gaming is buying him all the fish he likes.
Bennett leads them to a room with a door that’s only half-collapsed. One slab of stone is tilted backwards, but still intact within the doorframe. It wouldn’t stop anybody from going in, but it’s enough to get them out of sight. They slip in under the heavy wing, plastering themselves to the wall. In the silence of the chamber, their panting nearly echoes. Luckily, the monsters don’t stop to notice; they run right past the door with thundering feet. A few seconds slower, and they’d be too late. Gaming slides down the wall, shoving his shaking hands between his thighs. His heartbeat is loud in his ears.
After a moment, when the distant calls of monsters quiet completely, Bennett lets out a breathless laugh, „That was close.”
Razor, now sprawled on the floor with Man Chai on his chest, nods, „Too close. Benny, good job.”
The smile that accompanies Bennett’s cheerful „Thanks!” is enough to melt away the last of the tension. Gaming has no idea how their friend manages to keep such a cheery disposition at all times, but that just makes him admire it more. He wouldn’t trade it for the world. Man Chai’s sweet chaos, Bennett’s brilliant smile and Razor’s quiet reassurance. That’s all that he needs in life.
Okay, and maybe some dim sum.
Speaking of…
„Why don’t we take a break for lunch and then explore the area?” he pipes up. It’s technically dinnertime but eh, who’s counting?
Razor cranes his neck to look around without disturbing Man Chai. The chamber is bigger than they anticipated; half as big as the hall they just came from. It’s much different, though. The floor is lowered in the middle—as it often is in local ruins, they’ve noticed—and several tables are lined along the walls. There are two other doors on the sides; one is collapsed fully, nothing more than a pile of rocks. The other remains open, sunlight streaming in. The wall behind it must be crumbling as well.
What grabbed Gaming’s attention though is the wall opposite the entrance. The massive statue there is headless and ruined. But between its feet sits another door. This one is not only completely intact, but also glowing with ancient energy. Gaming’s skin tingles with curiosity and he knows the other two feel the same.
Following his gaze, Bennett jumps to his feet. He rushes to Gaming, scooping Man Chai up on his way. Already grinning like the sun, „Dim sum?”
Maybe Gaming is predictable, but what can he say? It’s the superior dish and the others haven’t gotten tired of it yet.
„Dim sum!” he confirms.
Razor flops onto his stomach. „Dim sum,” he tells Man Chai very seriously.
Nestled happily in Bennett’s arms, Man Chai yips.
Bellies full and cravings sated, they begin to explore. They check the collapsed doorway first—yup, still a pile of rocks. The open room is empty safe for a dusty desk and even dustier bookcase. Gaming swipes a stone tablet—he can’t read the text at all but Aether adores ancient texts. They light up like fireworks during the Lantern Rite. They often gift those to scholars as well. Or let them copy whatever they’d like to keep. And this area is pretty dangerous for researchers to reach on their own. Win-win if you ask him!
The best saved for last, they approach the foot of the statue. It towers high above them, imposing, royal. It must be at least eight times as tall as Gaming is. Even the door seems dwarvish in comparison. It pulsates with hypnotic blue, growing only stronger as they near. There’s a little vent off to the side, a line of the same blue running through it. They’ve seen it before, at the ruin’s entrance. It was simultaneously a piece of a puzzle and a power source of sorts. So fun!
It’s a step down from the statue’s feet to the entrance; as soon as Benny takes that step, the doors slide open. Light flickers on inside: two rows of arcane torches whooshing to life, casting the room in warmth. There’s another statue at the back, this one of another deity sitting on a throne. What features Gaming can see are gentle and feminine. The stone—in fact, near every surface—is covered in moss, vines and flowers, varieties of which Gaming has never seen before. The foliage is so thick in places, it swallows the actual architecture.
„Ooh,” the boys say in unison. Man Chai mewls just a moment after.
„So pretty,” Razor breathes, unable to settle his eyes in one spot. Gaming gets the feeling. It’s breathtaking. Granted, Liyue will always be the most beautiful to him, but the aura of this place is simply magical.
„Let’s go!” Bennett cheers, skipping ahead.
In his awed stupor, Gaming doesn’t even think to stop him. One step, two steps. The door is right in front, and all he can think is a fond „That’s so like him.” Razor’s instincts are stronger than his; He jolts into focus with barely a second of delay. It’s still too late. His hand closes around air where Benny’s wrist was a moment before. Bennett crosses the threshold, turning towards them with a brilliant smile.
The door slams closed.
„Uh oh,” comes muted from the other side, somehow sounding final.
***
„Nothing still?” Gaming calls nearly an hour later, a note of desperation slipping into his voice despite his best intentions. Man Chai whines at his feet.
„I’m sorry, guys,” says Bennett in a frenzy, which Gaming can only take as a no. He sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. They must be missing something. But what?
„Not your fault,” he reminds.
At first, Bennett maintained his usual cheery disposition, but, hearing how worried they were, his own anxiety also rose. Gaming wants to kick himself. That’d be counterproductive though; Bennett would just feel guilty.
A thud pulls him out of his head and Gaming turns to see Razor crouching, glider snapping closed.
Superhero landing! calls the part of his brain not yet overtaken by worry.
„I solved a part of the puzzle,” Razor says without preamble, dusting himself off. His brows are pinched in concern, but overall, he’s taking this better than Gaming is. He’s got experience with Bennett’s luck acting up. According to him, the two of them got locked in several times before. One particular time it took them four days to get out, and they only ever did because Fischl was part of the search party. Her familiar—Oz, was it?—managed to find a hidden passage within the ruin and lead them out.
But that’s just the thing. Back then, they were together. Right now, Bennett is alone. And so far, there’s nothing Gaming can do to help. The sun is getting low too. Oh gods, what if monsters spawn inside at night? Some elemental beings can appear out of thin air just from the overflow of elemental energy. Bennett can handle slimes, even the pyro ones, but cicins are louder, which could attract bigger monsters. Or, archons forbid, a Fatui mage.
Logically, Gaming knows if they can’t get inside, the monsters won’t either. The knowledge doesn’t stop the worry.
Razor points to the ceiling, „There’s an alcove. High, hidden. Only opens up when a light beam hits it.” But there are no light-connecting mechanisms around, Gaming knows. They’ve checked a hundred times. Seeing his consternation, Razor smiles, „Had to improvise, so it took a while.”
Gaming could argue that in the time it took Razor to do that, he achieved less than nothing. But again, counterproductive. He’s ready to collapse, hope and fear battling inside him. Please, please, please…
„Please tell me it contains the opening mechanism.”
Razor nods, bending down to give Man Chai a calming pat. Gaming near sobs with relief—near, because if it were that easy, Razor would’ve already opened the door. He wouldn’t wait around just to tell Gaming about it first.
„It is,” Razor continues, reading his mind, „Can’t use it.”
Yup, there it is.
„What do you mean? Is it broken? Please tell me it’s not broken,” he paces. „Razor, what is it?” Behind him, Razor starts putting their stuff back into its proper place in the nether. „What do you mean??” He repeats, hopeless. His only strength is the calm Razor emanates, a steady pillar despite his own worry.
Razor pushes his part of supplies closer. „It’s locked by a dendro totem.”
A dendro totem. Of course. The one thing they cannot substitute on their own. Just their luck. How are they supposed to cause a dendro reaction in the middle of the desert, miles away from any—
Understanding dawns on his face. Hope flutters its wings, no longer a feeble crystalfly, but a sure and resolute crane.
„Master Tighnari.”
„Master Tighnari,” Razor confirms. At last, his features soften, tension slowly bleeding out of his frame. Where before he was Gaming’s rock, now he’s a spirit carp jumping freely together with him. Not only calm, but determined, protective, safe. Gaming can’t not admire him. He can only hope his presence is somewhat equally as comforting to Razor.
Gaming throws himself to the supplies, shoving them into the pocket dimension without care. „You tell Benny, I pack.”
Between the two of them, they manage to squeeze everything in. It’s not that they need it, but better not leave it out. Bennett cheers them on from behind the door. Reassures them that he’s going to be fine, but Gaming still feels awful leaving him. The night is falling and—monsters or no—he’ll be alone, without any idea what’s happening. Where they are or when are they coming back. Whether something bad happened on the way. Gaming’s going crazy just imagining the stress, and he’s not the one in that position.
„Man Chai,” he whispers eventually, betting on the one idea he has. Nods towards the vent they’ve noticed earlier, „Think you can fit in?”
Through their bond, they understand each other seamlessly. Even in the midst of a fight, all it takes is one thought for Man Chai to have his back—and vice versa. Man Chai may be young, and nothing like the ancient suanni residing in the Vale, but he’s no ordinary cat. Many people have paid for underestimating his intelligence, just because he can’t talk yet. (He will, in a few hundred years, when he matures fully. Illuminated beasts are in no hurry and hold little regard for humanity’s opinions. Man Chai is not that different. He’s just a baby.)
And so, with a single drawn-out meow, Man Chai rubs himself against Gaming’s legs, then Razor’s, then bounds back to the accursed door. He barely fits. Has to brace himself and wiggle through. But he makes it and that’s what matters.
„Guys…” comes Bennett’s voice, tearful even through the thick walls between them. Gaming’s heart contracts painfully in his chest. It’s one thing to go fetch backup. It’s another thing entirely to leave a friend all alone. A friend who, Gaming knows, will spend the whole time they’re gone worrying for them and not for himself.
„Hang tight, Benny,” he says, refusing to acknowledge how tight his throat is. Bennett will be okay. He has to be. Surely his bad luck got used up for this stunt. „We’ll be back soon.”
Razor, for his part, stands with his forehead against the door. He presses his hand to the stone like he can touch Bennett through it. Spends a few deep breaths like that. Gaming gets the distinct feeling Bennett is doing the same on the other side. He can’t tell if it comes from Man Chai’s perception flowing into his consciousness or if those two just know each other that well. Maybe it’s the latter, maybe Gaming is just imagining what Bennett would do. It doesn’t matter anyway. The feeling remains all the same.
Eventually, Razor steps back with a little shake. The mane of his hair flows with the movement. „Lupical. We’re going now.”
Gaming can’t hear Bennett’s response, but Razor nods. A smile flickers onto his face, short as a blink, before his features set into an iron determination.
They go.
They jump out of the crumbled wall in the other room shoulder-to-shoulder. And thank archons for the destruction. If they had to sneak back where they came from, it wouldn’t go well. Not with all those monsters roaming around. They were already overwhelmed by their numbers in the light, but now? No. The last thing they—and by extension Benny—need is a fight. Even if they somehow made it through, it would’ve wasted too much time.
They land in a roll, solid rock under their feet as they set off, never a step away from the other. As much as they both would like to rush full speed, they keep an even pace. Tiring themselves out too early would only hinder them. They can’t use a waypoint either; even if they could handle the teleport itself, neither of them knows how to navigate them. Not many people do. Aether, of course, has no problem with it, and Gaming heard they were teaching Tighnari as well, but that doesn’t help them right now.
If you don’t have such a deep understanding of them, you will only ever land at the nearest waypoint, regardless of the desired direction. Which for them would be the one they’ve left behind.
So they just run.
They go, stone under their feet gradually giving way to sand. With every step Gaming takes, the presence of Man Chai in his mind weakens. When Caravan Ribat comes into view, he nearly collapses with relief. They were further out than they thought. Closer than they feared. They’ve run for a long time, but at least Bennett won’t be alone the whole night.
„There,” Razor breathes once they pass the gates, speeding up.
Gaming follows him without question, even though he can’t see the adults yet. He looks around for them: in the now empty event arena, under restaurant signs, by the group of Eremites heading home from duty. He spots them, finally, blending in with the small crowd of people browsing the stalls. Cyno’s wearing his cloak, the hood up. It’s what gives them away; two pairs of canine ears are easier to spot than one.
„Oh thank the archons,” Gaming sighs when Tighnari notices them as well.
He doesn’t turn around; it’s just his ear that twitches in a newly familiar way. Throughout their journey, Gaming learnt that Tighnari can recognize all of them by footsteps. The boys witnessed this often when he would announce Cyno coming back from wherever he strayed to along the way—something he did surprisingly often.
(Tighnari explained that while Cyno was an endlessly curious person, he didn’t get many opportunities to scratch that itch with how busy his work kept him. He made up for it during his time off, to the point where he would follow a butterfly like a child. Tighnari scoffed when he said that, but his voice was impossibly tender. He was looking at Cyno with boundless adoration. Gaming had no doubt he found the behavior endearing.)
Eventually, the boys started to pair up with Cyno on his mini-adventures, and Gaming got to witness Tighnari wince in compassion whenever Benny tripped or tumbled in the distance.
Now, Tighnari turns to Cyno, whispering somewhat urgently. Cyno nods without so much as a blink, abandoning whatever good they were perusing to pull Tighnari out of the crowd. He sends Gaming a look—stay put—and turns the other way, where the mass of people is the thinnest. They circle around the gathering; Smart, even if Gaming has to resist the urge to bounce in place.
Razor’s hand slips into his own, squeezing just a tad too hard.
„Soon,” he says, eyes trained on the nearing figures. He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. Gaming can’t do much else but squeeze back, so that’s what he does.
He catches Cyno nodding towards an out-of-the-way shaded area, and directs them in that direction.
„What happened?” says the moment he’s within earshot. He separates from Cyno, pulling the boys apart to check them over. He starts with Gaming, hand on his chin, angling his head every possible way as Gaming begins talking. Cyno, for his part, gives Razor a once-over and nods. Tighnari scoffs at him, murmuring something about being too dismissive of anything lesser than broken bones, and moves to Razor himself.
Cyno shakes his head before Gaming utters more than three sentences, „Basics only for now. He won’t focus on the story. Priorities.”
Something about that eases a knot in Gaming’s chest. It’s weird. Maybe he should dislike Tighnari not paying attention when he’s the one who asked, but… It’s been so long since someone fretted over him like this. Don’t get him wrong! He knows his father worries and loves him. It’s just that…until recently, that faith has always been accompanied by—at least seemingly—lack of belief in him, his choices and his abilities. They’re better now, so much better. His father does his best to accept and support him, but the past still stings a little.
With Tighnari, it’s just that. Priorities. It’s quite obvious he leaves to Cyno what he can’t focus on, assured without doubt that he’s got his back. Their love and faith in each other is a balm on Gaming’s heart. He doesn’t need Tighnari to listen to him, not right away. Cyno is right, it’s better to start small. Tighnari must’ve heard how frantic they were in their footsteps. Their pulse. He deserves this moment to reassure himself too.
“We have to go back for Benny,” is all Gaming settles on, leaning against Cyno. The man brings his arm around him, covering Gaming with his cloak. He doesn’t question it, only looks at him with compassionate eyes. Gaming presses closer, burrowing in the earthy scent Cyno carries with him. Cyno smells of desert and wind, and even though he’s sweaty from hours spent in the sun, it’s grounding. Gaming wants nothing more than for all of them to sink into that warmth—but they need to get Benny back first.
“How bad is it?”
Gaming sighs, rubbing his face. Exhaustion is getting to him. “If nothing’s changed, not terrible. But…” but what if something had changed? What if Tighnari can’t use the waypoint and they can’t find their way back? What if the monsters somehow reached Benny? They shouldn’t be able to, not without dendro, unless they knocked the wall down, but still…
“We’ll get him,” Cyno promises.
He asks a few questions as they wait for Tighnari, and Gaming does his best to answer concisely. Cyno hums in response, eyes trained on where Tighnari is bandaging a cut from a startled vulture on Razor’s arm. It’s taking a while to clean it out; Gaming barely resists an urge to fidget. Every moment they spend here is a moment Bennett is alone in a trap. But Razor needs the care.
Before he can spiral, Tighnari turns back to them, crossing his arms. “Alright. From the top, please.”
Taking turns, they tell the full story. At the end, Tighnari has his thumb pressed to his lips. They wait in silence as he thinks; Cyno may be better versed in the desert, but he easily admits Tighnari is the better strategist between them.
(Many, many days later, during another adventure, Tighnari will say the same thing about Cyno.)
“Alright,” Tighnari nods eventually. “Boys, wait here. Rest a little. Love, come with me.”
The adults leave, and Gaming huddles up with Razor. Slumped against some crates, shoulders pressed together as they watch the other two strategize. It lasts several long minutes; Tighnari speaks calmly, looking quite like he’s giving a lecture. The image is strengthened by how deep in thought Cyno is. They must be discussing how to navigate the waypoint network. No choice but to wait.
Eventually though, the men seem to reach a conclusion. They call the boys over; they immediately scramble to their feet. Tighnari gives them a small smile before jumping into the plan.
“It’s a bit tricky, since you two can’t teleport right now,” he says. From anyone else, it might’ve sounded like an accusation. Tighnari, though, is only looking at the situation from every possible angle. “As such, I will go ahead first, pulling Razor with me. Gaming, if Cyno can’t get you two through, catch up on foot.” Seeing their discomfort, he softens. “I know you don’t want to be separated after that, but the only other feasible option is for us two to go, and I don’t want to leave you alone. Not to mention we don’t know the way. No matter how well you describe it, we’ll waste time looking.”
Gaming’s nails dig into Razor’s skin a bit as he considers. He doesn’t like this; if anything goes wrong he won’t be there to help. And pulling a person—even a Vision Holder—through a waypoint is extremely taxing. What if something gets a jump on them?
…but that’s all the more reason for Razor to go with Tighnari. Most of the enemies in the area wielded pyro. While Gaming would much rather endanger himself than Razor, in this situation he’d be nearly useless. And Tighnari, with his Dendro Vision, is already at a disadvantage. The elemental reaction is the only thing balancing the scale. Yes, Tighnari is an excellent shot, but the monsters were swarming the corridors. Not the best setting for an archer, even one as fast as him.
Gaming catches Razor’s eye, tilting his head in question. They might not have many options, but there’s no way he’s agreeing if Razor has any objections.
He needn’t have worried; Razor is already nodding, squeezing his hand in reassurance and squaring his shoulders. Tighnari beckons him closer. Even so, he’s looking at Cyno, and although Gaming can’t read their faces, he can tell there’s a meaningful exchange happening.
They’re saying goodbye, he realizes, averting his eyes for some semblance of privacy. He gathers Razor into a hug instead. “Good luck. Stay safe,” he says into his neck. Razor nods, nuzzling into his hair before joining Tighnari. Not a moment later, they’re gone.
Gaming stays quiet as Cyno leads him back to the outpost’s waypoint. He seems deep in thought, and the last thing Gaming wants right now is to break his concentration.
“Alright,” Cyno says once they’re there, gesturing to the device. “Tighnari said this is easier with an anchor.”
Gaming nods. That makes sense; just like it’s easier to follow a map if you’re starting from a marked point. Still, he can’t help his anxiety. Logically, he knows Bennett is probably fine—but logic isn’t what’s driving him right now. He figures it’s better to worry too much than too little.
Cyno pulls him out of his musings; a hand, warm and calloused, resting on his shoulder. “Dendro might be weak to pyro, but we have to beleaf in them.”
Gaming blinks.
Cyno blinks back at him.
Then all of the tension leaves Gaming’s body like he’d let go of a balloon. He snorts, letting his head fall against Cyno’s forearm. These are the strongest people he knows. Physically and mentally both. They will get Bennett out no matter what; likewise, Bennett is too resilient to let this break him.
As if sensing the shift, Cyno smiles at him, soft and reassuring, before focusing back on the waypoint. Soon enough, the familiar feeling of void overtakes him. It’s not too similar to hunger cramps, if hunger cramps were a hundred times stronger and happened all over your body. Or rather, to your body, as a whole, all at once. Still, it’s different than when he does this on his own; though certainly less exhausting.
That doesn’t stop him wrenching to the side as soon as they land. He drops to his knees, dry heaving. Too much teleporting, oh too much teleporting. Immediately, there’s a hand in his hair, pushing it back in case he does puke.
“Shh, Lupical. I know, me too. Breathe, you’re okay…”
Another, colder hand, touches his elbow, ever so gentle despite the claws. “Here, chew this, it helps.”
A herb is pushed softly against his lips. Gaming doesn’t hesitate; he eats it straight from Tighnari’s hand. Sitting back on his heels, he breathes around it. Something akin to mint, though not quite. Maybe some specialty crossbreed.
He lets Razor pull him back to his feet, sparing a dizzy thought to how much better Razor is faring. Tighnari must’ve practiced this before since their last meeting. But even that’s nothing to how absolutely unaffected the adults are. Sure, they had more arcane stamina left than Razor and Gaming, who have teleported recently, but they’ve both pulled a person—an exhausted person, physically and elementally—through with them, to a specific location. For Cyno it was the first time attempting it. And yet neither of them needed so much as a stretch.
Safe to say, Gaming’s jaw is positively on the floor.
Tighnari checks him over one more time, and only once he’s sure Gaming is steady does he turn towards Cyno. Who, on his part, is flexing his hand, fingers curling into claw-shapes as purple energy swirls between them. Then he flicks his wrist and it dissipates like smoke. Tighnari regards it with scholarly curiosity—and even though the energy felt oppressive, both boys take their cue from him, dismissing the feeling.
“It went quite well, for your first time. No missing limbs,” Tighnari quips.
Cyno nods at him. His face seems impassive, but Gaming learned to recognize the soft warmth in his eyes. He looks at Tighnari like he solved the mystery of life itself. Ever so helplessly smitten. “You explained it really well. I wouldn’t be able to attempt it otherwise.”
Gaming flushes in Tighnari’s stead—the man doesn’t get the slightest tinge of pink, confident in his teaching and used to his husband’s affections.
“All progress depends on the student, I fear. If only all were as diligent as you,” he teases back.
Cyno allows it, tipping his head in acknowledgment. He then reaches out; his and Tighnari’s palms fit together neatly as if sculptured, steadfast, marble. Cyno bows over their joined hands. His lips just barely muss Tighnari’s knuckles. The fingers in his other hand twitch.
“Anybody who doesn’t want to put effort in under your tutelage is a fool,” he says against the glove.
This time, a blush does settle across Tighnari’s cheekbones, his nose. But whereas somebody else might fluster, get embarrassed or stammer, Tighnari simply allows it to happen. Like yeah, his husband is playful and can make him giddy at the drop of a hat; so what? They’re not bothered by how others may perceive it. Doesn’t matter they’re both considered “serious” people. They will flirt if they want to! And Gaming admires the confidence and the devotion. Yeah, why should they look at anyone else when their partner is right there?
Ah, so cool.
“Alright, flatterer,” Tighnari says after a moment. He glances to where Gaming has finally managed to stand on his own. “Time to go. Razor?”
And they’re off.
***
Gaming remembers vividly the first time he saw fireworks. He was no older than six, and tiny enough for his father to carry him everywhere. He grew slow—not that it changed. Back then, his father carried him on his hip, and little Gaming preoccupied himself with stuffing his face. It wasn’t the bang that drew him in. It wasn’t even the bright colors, nor the fun shapes. He’d only come to appreciate those later.
No, it was the firework setting off that grabbed little Gaming’s attention. The trail of smoke rising, the high pitch accompanying some. The small drops of light climbing higher, building anticipation. That’s what struck him the most.
Watching Cyno fight is a lot like that. He dashes forward, quick as a hare, swift as a jackal, deadly as a viper. He summons and dismisses his staff in a dance, twirling it around his wrist like a performer. The sand, bane of Gaming’s existence, doesn’t hinder him in the slightest. Cyno runs across it on light feet, dodging and pressing on fluidly. On one occasion, where the corridor is literally blocked with enemies, he runs across the wall until he’s behind the pack.
Tighnari follows him at a steadier pace, keeping both Razor and Gaming behind him. In open spaces, he fires off a shot after a shot, not even pausing to aim. The arrows find their way regardless. Even the one he fired nearly directly under his feet. In the corridors he turns careful, letting Cyno take point. Only picks off any strays that are too high for Cyno to reach. Hilichurl shooters and grenadiers hiding in the rafters, cicins zooming over their heads.
He’s meticulous and unworried outside the furrow in his brow when he addresses Razor, “You’ve explored a ruin with so many enemies?”
Razor shakes his head slowly, full of consternation, “Much fewer in daytime. Still a lot. But less,” he replies. Just like Gaming, he’s got his claymore out despite the adults keeping them out of the fight. Better safe than sorry.
“I think they might’ve all been gathered on the second floor,” Gaming tackles on. “We went straight to the top.” They saw the puzzle through the crumbled hole from a nearby mountain—a butte, maybe?—but the wind was too strong to glide directly there.
Tighnari presses the claw of his thumb against his bottom lip, pulling tight at the skin. “Nocturnal hilichurls are never a good sign,” he murmurs to himself. Then he levels the two of them with a stern look, “Never again will you explore a new place from the top, you hear me? Always start at the bottom. It’s there for a reason. You’re cutting off your means of escape otherwise. Got it?”
They give their affirmations in tandem. It’s not a lesson they could forget if they wanted to. Not when it’s Benny paying for it.
Tighnari nods back at them, mollified, taking the time to ruffle first Gaming’s, then Razor’s hair. “Good thinking on the gliders, though,” he gives them a soft smile before looking over his shoulder. “Love, hurry it up!” he calls, a teasing note in his voice.
At this point, Cyno is much further down the corridor. Clearly unbothered that his backup decided to take a break. Which, fair, considering that in this corridor there’s no spot Tighnari could aim at without risking nicking Cyno. Gaming suddenly understands that lack of concern when that same oppressive energy bursts out of Cyno in a purple swell. He takes on the last visible enemies—including a mitachurl so big it’s clearly growing into the next stage of its life. Gaming suspects it’s not a lawachurl yet simply because there’s not enough space in its chosen dwelling. Still, Cyno has no trouble taking it on. He’s even faster now, gauntlets on his hands swiping at his opponents swift as lightning, and just as deadly. The claws sink deep within the flesh; he backflips the slumping body.
With the tension falling and the proximity rising, Gaming starts picking up on the familiar presence in the back of his mind again. He couldn’t feel Man Chai well over the distance, and they were swarmed with enemies since they teleported, so he couldn’t focus over the stress. But the corridors in front of them remain empty and the adults vigilant. Gaming breathes deeply, closing his eyes. He had never practiced focusing on the sensation. Never really needed it before; this is the first time he and Man Chai separated for this long and far.
It takes a moment because of that. Razor remains at his side, hand on his elbow as he converses with Tighnari quietly. After a long minute, a purr ripples through Gaming’s mind; a little anxious, but mostly soothing. It fades to the background quickly, but it might’ve as well gifted him the whole world on a silver platter. Because Bennett is safe. Likely stressed and lonely, evident by Man Chai trying to put him at ease, but safe. There’s no danger emanating through their bond. Only sadness and longing for a reunion.
Gaming all but throws himself into Razor’s arms, relaying the feeling into his hair. Razor pulls him tighter against himself with a happy call, and Gaming sags into the embrace.
He rears back soon after, with that sort of awkward laughter that only comes from trying to spit sand out of your mouth.
Tighnari looks at him with a sympathetic expression, lips pressed together as he swallows his smile. “You get used to it,” he falls quiet for a few seconds. His ear flicks, and he shrugs with resignation. “After a few years.”
“When you told me it gets everywhere, I really didn’t think you meant everywhere.”
“Hair is nothing,” Tighnari laughs. “You can wash it off. Wait until you find cracks in your gear. You’ll be picking it out with a toothpick.”
Mm. Joy.
Cyno rejoins them then, a strip of leather hanging from his teeth as he blindly tries to braid his hair. Tighnari snorts with a quiet ‘now you decide to do it’ and moves to help him. Cyno stands still as he restarts the work. They both must be used to this. Ah, Gaming’s jealous. He’s yet to convince Razor to let him braid his hair; Razor’s not as much opposed as he doesn’t see the point. Which, fair! That’s fine, especially because now Gaming will needle Cyno to practice on him, hehe.
Cyno looks at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. He doesn’t comment on it though.
“I checked the immediate area,” he says instead. “Didn’t want to push too far, but everything seems empty.”
Tighnari hums, securing the braid. He checks his work, looking pleased. (He should be, Cyno looks great! …Hey, actually, fun fact: if Gaming shifts a little bit to the side, it kinda looks like Cyno’s the one with the ears…) Cyno grabs his wrist before it can retreat, laying a featherlight kiss to the back of the glove, and another to his knuckles. He then presses them to his own cheek, squishing the hand with his shoulder. Gaming melts looking at them, in love with their love.
He snaps back into attention when Tighnari addresses him. “You’ve mentioned you ran blindly following Bennett. We’re on the right level; do you think you could use your connection with Man Chai to sense where they are?”
Oh. Ooh, so smart! Scholars are amazing, man!
“I can try!”
He focuses back on the bond, trying to project the feeling of utterly, helplessly lost. Something like amusement flickers on the other side; Man Chai doesn’t exactly feel emotions the way that humans do. Which makes sense, even if it took Gaming months to decipher. Either way, the feeling is warm. Cozy, even. It fills Gaming’s mind like pumpkin spice, and is soon accompanied by a finicky sense of direction.
“I know the way,” he cheers. “I just don’t know, y’know, the way.”
Razor nods, raising his hand for a high-five. Within the last few minutes, he’s already looking so much better. Like life returned to him the second Bennett’s safety was confirmed. Gaming suspects he’s much the same.
“Point. I’ll find the route,” Razor says solemnly.
And he does. Razor leads them through the remaining corridors with the precision of a practiced guide. He must’ve tried to memorize the layout even as they were running. To say Gaming’s impressed would be a vast understatement.
The rest of the way remains empty, safe for a single hilichurl who squawks and runs the other way the moment it sees them. Within minutes, they’re once more slipping through that slanted door.
They made it.
Gaming nearly collapses with relief when Tighnari snipes the dendro totem right from the entrance. At this angle, it’s barely visible, and yet he activates it in a single shot.
“I’ll get the opening mechanism,” Gaming offers.
“No need,” Tighnari counters, bow still drawn.
He takes a step to the left, one eye closed. Draws his bow further. Shoots. There’s a dull sound of an arrow hitting stone. Tighnari blinks, shimmying half a step back. Refires.
Clank!
“Hold this,” he presses his bow to Cyno’s chest. Cyno takes it gently, holding it well if a bit stiffly. It’s obvious it’s not his weapon of choice, but equally clear he plays the rack quite often.
Tighnari rummages through his pocket dimension. It’s not usually visible; Gaming can only tell because items keep flickering in and out of existence. For a second, he wonders why Tighnari didn’t just dismiss his weapon—and then he realizes he’s one of those people who can’t summon one thing and dismiss another at the same time. Huh. Good to know!
After like ten items or so, Tighnari pulls out another arrow and a palm-sized object. It looks like a polished rock, or a piece of iron. Tighnari secures it to the arrow and collects his bow.
“Thank you, darling,” he says with a quick kiss to Cyno’s jaw.
This time, when the arrow lands, it does so with a heavy thunk. A second passes, and then there’s the tell-tale plonk of a mechanism sinking into place. Several arcane lines built into the walls and the floor start powering up.
Yup. Definitely faster than climbing up there.
But Gaming can’t focus on that because the arcane door hisses open, a shocked shout coming from inside. Gaming doesn’t even notice when he starts moving. He registers Man Chai’s excited yip, but all his attention is all on the boy suddenly in his arms. Another body hits his, arms closing around both their necks. Bennett’s arm winds around his waist, his face tucking into the crook of his neck. He’s shaking. Whether with anxiety or excitement, Gaming can’t tell. But Benny is here, and that’s all that matters. He presses closer until there’s no space between the three of them. Man Chai scrambles on top of all their feet, purring up a storm. Gaming can sense Cyno and Tighnari behind them as well.
He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, just that it could never be enough. Eventually though, they do need to separate. They step back at the same time, ever in sync. Gaming might’ve teared up a little, but at least he’s not the only one. Far from it.
“Ah, that was so quick! ” Bennett calls, eyes flicking between them. “Are you alright? I was worried!”
“We’re fine. How about Lupical?”
“All good here! Man Chai took care of me!”
Gaming grins, scooping the rascal from the floor. Man Chai mewls at him, scrambling onto his shoulder and pressing his face against his ear. Gaming laughs, reaching up to scratch behind his ears. Oh, it’s so good to be back together. So good to be home.
Cyno comes up, resting his hands on Bennett’s and Razor’s shoulders. Tighnari opts to pet Man Chai instead, eyes trained on Bennett.
“No injuries?”
“None at all!” Bennett cheers, flexing. Then he slumps, rubbing the back of his neck, “Honestly, I was mostly just lonely. I’m really sorry for making you all worry. And–thank you!”
“We’d rather worry than leave you to struggles,” Cyno refutes instantly. “That’s what friends are for. Like a funny leaf.”
A moment of silence.
“Get it? Because-“
“Because it sounds like a family, yes,” Tighnari interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not your best work, darling.”
Cyno nods, taking the critique in. Bennett giggles in delight, “Really, thank you so much. It means a lot to me. You guys are amazing!”
“You did amazing too,” Cyno says simply like a fact. And it is! Gaming wholeheartedly agrees.
He makes sure to tell him so. Razor joins in, and soon they’re falling over each other to compliment the rest. Cyno stays by their side, taking Man Chai from Gaming to pet as he offers additional points to all their “arguments.” Tighnari smiles, but then continues further, peeking into the room. A surprised expression passes over his face, morphing into determination instantly. He manifests a notepad, sitting directly on the floor to sketch. Cyno looks at him with gentle eyes, whatever he meant to say forgotten. Instead, he sighs with fondness,
“Looks like we’re setting up camp here. Come help me barricade the doors properly.”
They do so, taking rubble from the adjacent room to block the entrance. Tighnari remains engrossed in his notes throughout and after. He doesn’t move until they start a fire and the scent of skewers makes it to his nose. Cyno wiggles one at them like he’s a cat. Tighnari rolls his eyes affectionately and scrunches his nose—then snorts loudly a second later when Man Chai takes the movement as an invitation to lounge at Cyno.
Gaming jerks forward with an instinctual No, you lil’ rascal! But Cyno just laughs, making Man Chai work for the treat. The merriment is infectious and lasts the next hour. They play Genius Invocation TCG and Cyno tells them about the event in between of sharing tips about traversing the sand. Tighnari points out creative ways of solving puzzles. Next time they encounter a dendro totem, he says, they can use juice from any available fruit to trigger it. It takes a lot, but it works in a pinch if their inventory is stocked. Razor promises to gather wolfhooks for the next time they visit Sumeru. Tighnari compliments his choice before destroying one of his cards. Never going easy on them.
(He still loses.)
They play one more round, and when all food is gone, Tighnari apologizes, returning to his study of the mysterious room.
“He’s proud of you, you know,” Cyno says softly, fully aware Tighnari can hear him well. But then again, Gaming supposes, he wouldn’t share it if he thought the other minded. “As am I. Too many adventurers are unwilling to learn upon encountering trouble. Easier to blame the circumstances.”
Razor furrows his brows at that, accepting the head pat Tighnari gives him on his way. “If we don’t learn, we don’t improve,” he says. “More trouble. More people hurt.”
Cyno tilts his head with a somewhat resigned smirk, “Many people don’t care. Be proud of yourselves.”
Flushed but happy, they all nod. The other three start up another round, while Gaming joins Tighnari in sketching. The man looks up at him, smiling softly, “Not sleepy yet?”
“Nah. It’s so late and I was exhausted, it’s weird.” He gets his own sketchpad, pressing into Tighnari’s side. The fluff of his tail tickles Gaming’s arm.
Tighnari points to the statue deep within the chamber. It’s still lit up by the torches, tempting Gaming to come closer to check it out. But he knows how that ends, so they remain at the threshold. “I think it sets some kind of vitality aura in the area. I’m sure we’re going to crash as soon as the door closes.”
Oh, that actually makes so much sense! Gaming’s seen Auntie Xianyun use a sigil for something similar once; she had been working non-stop throughout the week, sewing an outfit for her girls and the Traveller, murmuring something about an engagement. And she didn’t even need a power nap! He tells the story to Tighnari as they sketch, listening intently about the differences the man spots just from that.
“Either way, I think we need to turn in soon if we want to be up at a reasonable time,” Tighnari sums up after they’ve exhausted the topic. Looking over their shoulders, the game is still going on. “Let’s give them this round.”
“Master Tighnari, come join us!” Bennett calls, catching his eye. Tighnari has told them multiple times there’s no need to call him that, but well…It’s what Collei calls him and he teaches them so much, it not only caught on quickly but stuck. Oops?
“Sorry, loves,” Tighnari sighs, mouth ticking upwards. “Most of those flowers are technically extinct. I had to record them in case something happened.”
Bennett tilts his head, curiosity emanating from him so strongly he’s nearly vibrating. Gaming’s not far behind. “But they’ve been there for so long, what could happen now?”
“That exactly,” Tighnari explains, slipping between him and Razor. They both press against him as he points at his notepad. Even Man Chai, happily curled up in Cyno’s nap, perks up. “They’ve been stuck in there for years, if not centuries. Sudden and prolonged exposure to modern air, airborne illnesses and such, might be detrimental to their health.”
“Oooh.”
“We’ll come back after the event to check on them,” Cyno offers. Well, not offers, cuz he says it like it’s a fact of the universe. Tighnari found something interesting, they’re gonna keep tabs on it. Tighnari catches that too, smiling gratefully in Gaming’s periphery. His tail sways gently from Bennett’s back to Razor’s hip and back.
Cyno’s eyes soften for a moment, so full of love Gaming can feel it radiating through the air. Then he stands up, smirking at them. “Alright. Which Pyro wants to climb up with me to turn off the totem?”
Bennett jumps to his feet with a grin so bright the fire looks dim. “Oh, I do! Payback!!”