The final days before the Rite of Descension were a whirlwind of frantic, joyous activity. Liyue Harbor was a symphony of preparation, every citizen contributing to the grand, sacred event. The air itself seemed to hum with anticipation, thick with the scent of incense, Glaze Lilies, and the collective, reverent hope of a nation.
For Ganyu and Keqing, it was the busiest time of the year. They were two of the primary cogs in the immense, intricate machine of the Rite.
Ganyu was a blur of blue and white, her usual diligence magnified tenfold. She was responsible for cross-referencing the lists of offerings, for ensuring the ancient ceremonial rites were followed to the letter, for coordinating with the Millelith to secure the perimeter of Yujing Terrace. Her work was a testament to her deep, unwavering devotion to Rex Lapis.
Keqing, on the other hand, handled the more pragmatic, mortal aspects of the ceremony. She managed the logistics of crowd control, the security arrangements for the visiting dignitaries, and the economic forecasts that would be presented to the Archon. She approached the Rite not with religious reverence, but with the sharp, efficient focus of a project manager overseeing the most important event of the year.
Despite their crushing workloads, their vigilance over Ren never wavered. One of them would always find a way to be home with him, to share a meal, to ensure he was safe and not feeling neglected amidst the city-wide fervor. They were a well-oiled machine of guardianship, their shared love for him a silent, constant priority.
Ren, for his part, spent these days in a state of quiet, watchful waiting. He walked through the decorated streets, observing the preparations, his mind a quiet storm of calculation and dread. He kept a particular eye on the crowds at the city gates, scanning the new arrivals, the merchants and tourists who had come from all over Teyvat to witness the sacred event. He was looking for a particular face, for a shock of golden-blonde hair and a small, floating companion.
Finally, the day of the Rite arrived, a bright, clear, auspicious morning.
Ganyu woke Ren early, her own face already glowing with a serene, holy excitement. She had laid out a special set of clothes for him, a formal, elegant Liyue-style tunic and trousers in a deep, sapphire blue that perfectly matched the stripes in his hair, embroidered with subtle, silver cloud patterns. She helped him dress with a gentle, loving care.
She then got ready, emerging in her own formal, ceremonial attire, a beautiful, graceful garment that spoke of her adeptal heritage and her high standing in the Qixing. She looked less like a secretary and more like a divine priestess.
A sharp, punctual knock came at their door. It was Keqing, looking stunning and formidable in her own formal Qixing uniform, her usual sharp practicality now imbued with an air of solemn authority.
"Are you ready?" she asked, her amethyst eyes sweeping over them, a rare, faint smile of approval on her lips. "It's time."
The three of them walked together through the cleared, secured streets towards Yujing Terrace. The usual boisterous energy of the Harbor was gone, replaced by a hushed, reverent silence. The entire city seemed to be holding its breath.
They ascended the grand, red-lacquered staircases to the highest point of Liyue, the ceremonial platform where the Rite would take place. The air here was thick with the heavy, fragrant smoke of incense burners. The leaders of Liyue's great merchant guilds and ministries were already assembled, a silent, solemn crowd.
Ren's eyes scanned the assembled dignitaries, the respectful onlookers, and then he saw her.
Standing near the edge of the crowd, looking on with a wide, curious gaze, was Lumine. Her small, starry companion, Paimon, floated beside her, for once completely silent, her eyes wide with awe at the grandeur of the ceremony.
She had made it. The hero had arrived, just in time for the story's next great turning point.
Ren felt a strange, complicated mix of relief and dread. He was glad to see her, glad that this crucial piece of the puzzle was in place. But her presence was also the final, undeniable confirmation that the play was about to begin. The calm was over. The storm was here.
He stood between Ganyu and Keqing, a small, silent figure in the heart of Liyue's power, and watched as Ningguang, in her magnificent, flowing gown, ascended the ceremonial altar. He watched as she began the ancient, hallowed rites, her clear voice ringing out over the silent crowd. He watched, and he waited for the sky to fall.