#Requiem of the Echoing Depths is hands down

[reginrokkr]

𝐋𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈. Meaning behind Dáinsleif's visits to the Nameless City.

Today in this fine Sunday eve I choose emotional violence in thinking that Dain has now a reason to return to the Nameless City of the Chasm every now and then to place a lil Inteyvat in the same place that Halfdan drew his last breath.

[horeformilfs]

Sacrifices in the Name of Love

Alcina Dimitrescu X Fem!Reader

TW: Death, Grief, Suicide, Afterlife

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In the dimly lit library of the imposing castle, Alcina Dimitrescu and Y/N sat with their daughters, wrapped in an atmosphere of warmth and love. The crackling of the fireplace echoed the coziness that enveloped the family. Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, the adoring daughters, reveled in the presence of Y/N, a figure they cherished beyond words.

Five years of togetherness, a year and a half of marriage—their bonds were woven into the very fabric of their existence. Y/N, with the extraordinary ability to shapeshift into various animals, brought a unique enchantment to their lives. Yet, little did they know that this enchanted evening would soon unravel into a heart-wrenching tale.

The tranquility shattered when news reached Alcina that an intruder, Ethan Winters, had breached the castle's defenses. Panic etched across her regal features as she made a fateful decision. "Bela, Cassandra, search the castle," she commanded, concern shadowing her face. Daniela, the youngest, was to remain in the library—a sanctuary now marred by impending danger.

As Alcina and Y/N locked the library door behind them, a silent understanding passed between the two. Y/N, determined to protect her newfound family, insisted on aiding the search. Alcina's protests fell on ears attuned to a different calling. "I'm not just a human," Y/N whispered, conviction in her eyes, a testament to the depth of her sacrifice.

They parted ways, promises of a reunion in two hours hanging in the air like fragile threads. Alcina watched Y/N disappear into the labyrinthine corridors, her heart heavy with worry. The castle, once a haven, now echoed with the haunting uncertainty of what awaited them.

As time trickled away, the library stood witness to Alcina's silent vigil. The crackling fireplace no longer whispered tales of warmth; instead, it mirrored the flickering hope in Alcina's eyes. In the looming darkness, the pages of their family's story turned, uncertainty etching its narrative, and the once blissful haven transformed into a poignant waiting room for the unknown.

The echoes of the castle seemed to taunt Alcina as she ventured into its cold, stone corridors. Panic clung to her like a suffocating shroud, the seconds ticking away like the beats of an anxious heart. Desperation etched her regal features as she searched for any sign of Y/N or the intruder who threatened their sanctuary.

Meanwhile, Y/N's search led her to the grand dining room, where the opulence of the setting clashed violently with the impending tragedy. As she prowled through the room, a sudden gunshot pierced the air, sending shivers down her spine. The ominous sound drew her towards the kitchen, where an unthinkable sight awaited her.

The once pristine kitchen now bore the scars of a violent struggle. Bela, noble and fierce, clashed with Ethan Winters amidst shattered glass. A broken window allowed the biting winter air to invade, casting an icy chill over the scene. Bela, weakened by the cold, succumbed to the inevitable, her form crystallizing into delicate remains that glistened in the pale light.

Y/N's heart shattered as she witnessed the loss of one of her beloved daughters. The air seemed to freeze around her, mirroring the unbearable grief that gripped her soul. She knelt beside Bela's crystallized form, her hands trembling as she reached out, a futile attempt to undo the irreversible.

Through tear-streaked eyes, Y/N whispered to the frozen remnants of Bela, words heavy with sorrow. "I'm so sorry, my love. I failed to protect you." The cold silence of the kitchen became a haunting backdrop to the lament of a grieving mother, a requiem for a life extinguished too soon.

Ethan, finally noticing Y/N, made a hasty retreat, leaving chaos in his wake. Y/N, shock still etched across her face, felt a surge of rage coursing through her veins. In that moment of anguish, she transformed into a sleek black panther, a manifestation of the darkness that consumed her soul.

The castle corridors reverberated with the haunting growls of the panther as it pursued the fleeing intruder. Y/N's once-human eyes now gleamed with an untamed ferocity, fueled by a mother's fury. The shadows embraced her as she raced through the labyrinthine passages, guided by an insatiable thirst for vengeance.

Amidst the darkness, Alcina continued her desperate search, unaware of the tragedy that had befallen one of their own. The castle, once a haven of love, now echoed with the anguished cries of a mother and the relentless pursuit of justice in the form of a vengeful panther, lost in the shadows of sorrow and revenge.

In the desolate corridors of the castle, Alcina's frantic search persisted, the weight of each footfall echoing her growing despair. Shadows clung to her like ghosts, haunting her every step as she traversed the cold expanse. Unseen and unheard, she pressed forward, her heart entwined with a mother's fear, an ominous premonition of impending loss.

Meanwhile, Y/N moved through the dimly lit halls, urgency propelling her towards the armory—a once sacred space now marred by the imprints of tragedy. As she entered, the scene unfolded before her like a macabre play, and the air thickened with a sense of foreboding.

Cassandra, the second of their cherished trio, fought valiantly against the unrelenting onslaught of Ethan Winters. Y/N's heart raced as she rushed to intervene, a desperate attempt to shield her daughter from the looming threat. However, in the cruel ballet of combat, Y/N found herself on the receiving end of Ethan's aggression.

Pain lanced through her, both physical and emotional, as the clash continued. The armory, once a bastion of protection, now witnessed the unraveling of familial bonds. Y/N's attempts to protect Cassandra ended in her own injury, the searing pain a visceral manifestation of the sacrifices made in the name of love.

In the midst of the struggle, Ethan, driven by a relentless determination, succeeded in breaking open a section of the castle wall. The frigid air rushed in, a harbinger of doom reminiscent of the winter's frost that claimed Bela and Cassandra's sister. Cassandra, weakened by the biting cold, succumbed to the same icy fate.

Y/N, her gaze fixed on Cassandra's crystallized form, felt the cold tendrils of grief tighten around her heart. Another daughter, full of strength and vitality, stolen away by the merciless hand of death. The echoes of Cassandra's struggle faded into the haunting silence of a life extinguished too soon, leaving Y/N to confront the suffocating void that now enveloped her.

Cassandra, in her final moments, summoned a defiant declaration that would etch itself into Y/N's shattered soul. "You won't escape. You're my prey," she declared, a testament to the unyielding spirit that defined their familial bond even in the face of tragedy.

Ethan, satisfied with his ruthless victory, departed, leaving Y/N alone in the cold, lifeless armory. In the depths of her grief, Y/N shapeshifted back into her normal form and approached Cassandra's crystallized remains. The air hung heavy with sorrow as Y/N gently touched the frozen surface, a futile attempt to convey love and warmth to a daughter now lost to the cruel embrace of eternity.

"Cassandra, my fierce, brave girl," Y/N whispered, her voice a fragile melody in the emptiness of the armory. Tears flowed freely as she cradled the crystallized form, the icy surface serving as a bitter reminder of the warmth that had been stolen away. In that moment, the castle seemed to echo with the haunting wails of a mother's grief, a sorrow that transcended the confines of stone walls and reverberated through the desolate corridors of their fractured family.

The library, once a sanctuary of familial joy, now stood as a silent witness to the unraveling tragedy that had befallen the Dimitrescu family. Y/N, heart heavy with grief, returned seeking solace, only to find that the tendrils of despair had reached even the sanctity of their haven.

Daniela, the youngest and the last flicker of hope, stood at the entrance, a determination etched across her delicate features. In the dim light, Y/N could see the spark of vengeance in her eyes as she pursued Ethan, the intruder who had stolen the warmth from their family.

With a frantic urgency, Y/N rushed after Daniela, the echoes of their footsteps resonating through the corridors like a somber drumbeat. As they approached the confrontation, the air thickened with tension, a palpable manifestation of the impending tragedy.

Ethan, sensing the pursuit, reached a lever that controlled the castle's roof. With a cold determination, he pulled it, the mechanisms groaning as the roof began to open. The moonlight spilled into the room, casting an eerie glow over the impending confrontation.

In a swift and calculated move, Y/N shapeshifted into the black panther, a creature of darkness and ferocity, and leaped at Ethan, a desperate attempt to protect her last remaining daughter. The clash of forces echoed through the library as Y/N fought to shield Daniela from the looming threat.

The battle between Ethan and Y/N raged on, each blow a painful reminder of the losses suffered. Yet, in the cruel ebb and flow of the confrontation, Ethan managed to subdue Y/N, leaving her weakened and helpless. With a sinister grin, he turned his attention to Daniela, a defenseless prey caught in the cruel machinations of fate.

Y/N, injured and restrained, watched in helpless horror as Ethan approached Daniela. The air turned colder, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on the scene. Daniela, the last vestige of their once vibrant family, pleaded for mercy, her voice a fragile melody of desperation.

"I don't want to die," Daniela whimpered, her eyes wide with fear as the frost of impending doom gripped her. Y/N, unable to shield her daughter from the inevitable, felt the weight of despair settle like a heavy shroud.

Ethan, unmoved by the plea, carried out the final act of cruelty. Daniela's form slowly crystallized, the frost enveloping her in an icy embrace. In the deafening silence that followed, Y/N's heart shattered into irreparable fragments. The library, once filled with laughter and warmth, now echoed with the haunting stillness of a mother's grief.

As Ethan fled the scene once again, leaving behind a trail of shattered lives, Y/N, battered and broken, made her way to Daniela's crystallized form. The moonlight cast a melancholic glow on the frozen figure as Y/N spoke in a voice choked with sorrow.

"I've lost all of my girls," Y/N whispered, the words carrying the weight of a thousand tears. "In a matter of minutes, everything changed. I couldn't protect any of you."

The library, a silent witness to the tragedy, held the remnants of a family that had been torn apart in the span of a night.

The castle, once a haven of love and laughter, now stood as a desolate monument to tragedy. Y/N, bearing the scars of a shattered soul, sought Alcina, only to discover that her beloved had morphed into her formidable mutated form. The weight of despair pressed upon Y/N's heart as she ascended to the castle roof, compelled to witness the unfolding calamity.

The scene that greeted her was one of chaos and sorrow. Alcina, in her mutated magnificence, clashed with Ethan Winters, the intruder who had become the harbinger of their destruction. The moon hung heavy in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the impending battle.

The clash between Alcina and Ethan felt eternal to Y/N, each blow resonating through the depths of her heart. The castle roof became a silent theater of agony, the air thick with the unspoken fear that their family's fate hung in the balance.

As the battle reached its crescendo, Ethan, relentless in his pursuit, gained the upper hand. Y/N, helpless in her distant observation, felt the tightening noose of despair. In a final act of cruelty, Ethan fired a bullet that found its mark in Alcina's majestic form. The once indomitable matriarch plummeted from the sky, a tragic descent that mirrored the crumbling of Y/N's world.

Heart pounding, Y/N ran to the spot where Alcina's body lay, a crystallized testament to the brutality of their assailant. The air was charged with grief as Ethan, having claimed victory, departed into the night. Y/N's eyes, swollen with tears, traced the crystalline outline of Alcina, her once powerful presence now reduced to a cold, lifeless sculpture.

Amidst the crystalline stillness, Y/N's trembling voice broke the oppressive silence. Kneeling beside Alcina's frozen form, she whispered words of heartache as if the cold sculpture could still hear her.

"Alcina," Y/N's voice quivered with a mixture of sorrow and longing. "I never imagined a world without you. How do I go on when everything that matterd crumbled around me?" Her fingers traced the icy contours of Alcina's face, a futile attempt to bridge the gap between the living and the crystallized memory.

Tears blurred Y/N's vision as she continued to pour her grief into the empty air. "Our daughters, Alcina, were the light of our lives. Now, they're gone, and I'm left here alone, surrounded by the remnants of a love that once bloomed so beautifully."

The castle, usually a grand and imposing structure, felt like a tomb encasing Y/N's agony. Her words hung in the air, carried away by the chill wind, a lament for a family torn asunder. The moon, a silent observer to the tragedy, cast its indifferent light on the broken tableau.

Y/N's hand rested on Alcina's crystallized heart, a futile hope that warmth might return to the lifeless form. "I don't know how to bear this emptiness, Alcina. I keep waiting for you to open your eyes, to tell me that this is just a nightmare. But the silence mocks me, and I'm left here drowning in the echoes of our shattered dreams."

The pain etched on Y/N's face deepened as she spoke, her words a raw confession of the unbearable loss she now carried. "I failed to protect them, Alcina. I failed you. And now, I'm left with nothing but the remnants of a love story that ended in tragedy."

As Y/N's sobs echoed through the desolate castle, a haunting answer resonated in the silent chambers—a love story, once vibrant and enduring, now reduced to the fragile threads of memories and frozen tears. The moon cast its indifferent glow over the scene, a celestial witness to the unraveling of a once-majestic love, now entombed in the cold embrace of crystallized despair.

The castle, now draped in the shadows of desolation, echoed with the haunting symphony of Y/N's grief. Alone amidst the crystallized remnants of her family, she felt the weight of sorrow crushing her spirit. The air, once vibrant with love, now hung heavy with the scent of despair.

Kneeling beside Alcina's frozen form, Y/N's tear-streaked face pleaded with the lifeless sculpture. "Alcina, my love, I don't know how to live in a world without you and our daughters. The emptiness is suffocating, and I can't bear the echoes of our shattered dreams."

The moon, a silent witness to her torment, cast an indifferent glow on the castle roof. In the oppressive silence, Y/N's decision crystallized—a desperate resolve born from the unbearable weight of grief.

She ascended to the roof, each step heavier than the last, as if the castle itself conspired to anchor her to the agony below. The cold wind whispered through the stone corridors, carrying with it the final lament of a soul pushed to the brink.

Alone on the desolate roof, Y/N gazed into the abyss below, the depths mirroring the void in her heart. She spoke, her voice a broken whisper carried away by the night. "Alcina, I hope you find peace wherever you are. I can't bear to live in a world without you and our precious daughters. I hope... I hope I see you again."

With those words, Y/N stepped to the edge, the precipice of her despair. The moonlight cast a mournful glow on her tear-streaked face as she looked into the abyss below. The chilling wind seemed to echo the finality of her decision.

A silent plea escaped her lips, a desperate hope that she might find the family she had lost. "I'm sorry," she whispered to Alcina, as if seeking forgiveness for what she was about to do.

In that moment, the castle, once a sanctuary of love, bore witness to the heartbreaking choice of a shattered soul. Y/N, her heart consumed by grief, let herself fall into the void below. The cold night swallowed her, and as she descended, she felt a fleeting sense of weightlessness—the burden of loss momentarily lifted.

But in that fleeting moment, regret mingled with the wind, and the abyss claimed her, leaving the castle roof as empty and desolate as the shattered remains of a once-beautiful family. The moon, still indifferent, cast its light on the vacant space, a witness to the tragedy that unfolded in the shadows of a once-grand castle.

In the surreal embrace of the afterlife, Y/N found herself in a realm that transcended the boundaries of the living. As she opened her eyes to an ethereal landscape, a gentle calm washed over her, replacing the oppressive weight of grief with an unfamiliar tranquility.

Walking through the otherworldly expanse, Y/N felt an indescribable sense of serenity. The air seemed to echo with the whispers of departed souls, and the surroundings bore a dreamlike quality. In the distance, she spotted familiar figures, and as she drew closer, her heart skipped a beat.

Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra, radiant and full of life, stood together as if untouched by the events of that fateful night. The warmth of their smiles mirrored the love that once defined their family. In an instant, Y/N's eyes welled with tears, and she felt an overwhelming surge of emotion.

Daniela, the first to notice her presence, turned with a gleeful exclamation. "Mamă!" A sweet melody that echoed with the joy of reunion. In a heartbeat, Daniela was followed by Bela and Cassandra, their laughter filling the air.

They enveloped Y/N in a joyous embrace, their presence a balm to the wounds of her grieving soul. The afterlife had bestowed upon them the essence of their former selves—their laughter, their warmth, and the unwavering love that had defined their familial bonds.

Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she held them close, the echoes of their laughter weaving a tapestry of solace around her. "My darlings," Y/N whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so happy to see you again. I've missed you more than words can express."

The girls, their eyes reflecting the purity of love, responded in unison, "We missed you too, Mamă."

In that ephemeral moment, the boundaries between grief and joy blurred. Y/N, surrounded by the embrace of her daughters, felt a profound sense of peace. "I'm so sorry," she confessed, the weight of guilt resurfacing. "I couldn't protect you. I failed you."

Bela, the eldest, touched Y/N's cheek with a gentle hand. "Mamă, there's nothing to be sorry for. We know you loved us with all your heart. That's all that matters."

Y/N's heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and remorse. As they stood together, the wounds of the past night seemed to fade into insignificance. The girls, resilient in their love, reassured Y/N with their unwavering presence.

Y/N's heart fluttered with a mixture of joy and trepidation as she caught sight of Alcina in the distance. The reunion felt like a dream, yet the warmth that surged through her was undeniably real. Alcina, adorned in her regal grace, turned to face Y/N, and a flicker of surprise crossed her features.

The girls, sensing the need for a private moment, gracefully stepped away, leaving Y/N and Alcina alone in the otherworldly expanse. Y/N, overwhelmed by emotions, ran towards Alcina, and the moment their eyes met, the world seemed to fade into the background. Alcina's gaze held a mixture of astonishment and adoration as Y/N wrapped her arms around her.

For a moment, they simply held each other, the ethereal landscape bearing witness to a love that defied the boundaries of life and death. Alcina, her voice a soft whisper, uttered Y/N's name like a sacred hymn, "Dragă mea."

Y/N, feeling the familiar touch of Alcina's fingers gently caressing her cheek, looked into those familiar, mesmerizing eyes. Time seemed to stand still as Alcina, overcome with emotion, leaned in and kissed her with a tenderness that spoke of a thousand unspoken words.

Breaking the kiss, Alcina, her eyes searching Y/N's, questioned with a gentle urgency, "What did you do, my love?"

Y/N's gaze fell, the weight of her actions bearing down on her. She hesitated, reluctant to share the painful truth. Alcina, sensing her distress, gently guided Y/N's face to meet her gaze again. "Tell me, Dragă mea. What did you do?"

With a heavy sigh, Y/N admitted, "I did what was necessary."

Alcina, a furrow forming on her brow, persisted. "What do you mean, 'necessary'? What have you done?"

Y/N, her eyes clouded with sorrow, finally spoke the painful truth. "I did what I had to do to be with all of you again."

Alcina's eyes widened with realization, and she asked with a sinking dread, "You didn’t...?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

Y/N nodded, the weight of her confession hanging in the air. "Yes, Alcina. I couldn't bear the grief. I saw our daughters die, and I saw you fall. I couldn't find a reason to keep going without all of you."

Alcina's expression shifted from realization to profound sadness. She cupped Y/N's face, a mixture of love and sorrow in her eyes. "Dragă mea, you didn't have to do that. We could have found a way to be together again."

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I couldn't endure the pain, Alcina. I needed to be with you all, even if it meant sacrificing myself."

Alcina, holding Y/N close, whispered words of solace. "Dragă mea, our love is eternal. You didn't need to go to such lengths. Now, we're together, but at what cost?"

"In my heart, Alcina," Y/N said, her voice filled with a quiet resolution, "I wouldn't have changed a thing. The pain was unbearable, but the thought of an eternity without you and our daughters was even more excruciating. I'd make the same choice again, even knowing the price."

Alcina, her eyes reflecting the melancholy of their circumstances, held Y/N tighter. A realm of both reunion and reckoning, became the stage for a love story that defied the limitations of time and mortality. In the embrace of eternity, Y/N and Alcina navigated the delicate dance between joy and sorrow, their hearts entwined in a bittersweet symphony that echoed through the ethereal expanse.

"I wish you hadn't felt you had to bear such a burden alone, Dragă mea," Alcina whispered, her voice a soft lament. "We could have faced the challenges together, found another way."

Y/N, tears glistening in her eyes, met Alcina's gaze. "Alcina, the pain was consuming me. I couldn't fathom a future without all of you. The grief, the guilt—I needed to escape it."

Alcina, understanding the depths of Y/N's torment, kissed her forehead gently. "But at what cost, my love? Our eternity together marred by the sacrifice you made."

Y/N's voice wavered with emotion. "I thought the pain would end if I could be with you again. I was wrong, Alcina. The pain lingers, but at least I have you now."

Alcina's eyes bore the weight of shared sorrow as she spoke, "Dragă mea, our love is eternal, but the wounds you carry... I wish I could have spared you from this pain."

Y/N nodded, her tears falling freely. "Alcina, I would endure a thousand lifetimes of pain to be with you and our daughters. The love we share transcends everything, even the darkness that brought us here."

Alcina, caressing Y/N's cheek, spoke with a tenderness that echoed through them. "My love, you mean everything to me. I would traverse the realms of existence to be with you, to shield you from the burdens you carried alone."

Y/N, leaning into Alcina's touch, whispered, "And I would find a way back to you, no matter the obstacles. Our love is a force that defies the boundaries of time and space."

Alcina's eyes shimmered with unspoken affection. "Dragă mea, you are my eternal flame. No matter the trials we face, we will endure them together."

In the embrace of paradise, where love transcended the boundaries of time and mortality, the familial reunion continued to unfold. As Y/N and Alcina exchanged tender words, the ethereal landscape witnessed the return of the three beloved figures who had once again become an inseparable part of their shared eternity.

Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra approached with an otherworldly grace, their eyes reflecting the joy of being reunited with their parents. In a scene that mirrored the warmth of their past family gatherings, they enveloped Y/N and Alcina in a circle of love.

Y/N, overwhelmed with emotion, gently reached out to hold Bela and Daniela close, one in each arm. The girls, in turn, pressed themselves against Y/N, a collective hug that transcended the physical and embraced the boundless depths of their connection.

Alcina, standing beside Y/N, extended her arms to encircle both Y/N and Cassandra. The afterlife became a tableau of familial love—a tapestry woven with the threads of joy, sorrow, and an eternal bond that defied the passage of time.

In the tender embrace, Y/N kissed the heads of Bela and Daniela, their presence a balm to the wounds she once thought were irreparable. The soft murmur of love filled the air as Y/N spoke, her voice carrying the weight of their shared journey.

"I never thought I'd hold you both like this again," Y/N whispered, her eyes glistening with tears of gratitude. "I missed you more than words can say."

Bela and Daniela, in the comforting embrace of their parents, felt the warmth of love that transcended the trials they had faced. A sanctuary for their eternal reunion, echoed with the melodies of a family made whole once more.

Turning to Alcina and Cassandra, Y/N continued, "And you, my loves, are the pillars of my existence. I promised myself that I'd never let you go again. We're a family, bound by a love that defies even the boundaries of life and death."

Alcina, holding Y/N and Cassandra close, spoke with a solemn tenderness, "Our family is eternal, and nothing can tear us apart. We've faced the darkness, and now, we embrace the light of our enduring love."

The Dimitrescu family shared a moment of profound unity. Y/N, surrounded by the warmth of her daughters and Alcina, felt the echoes of grief dissipate, replaced by the timeless embrace of love. The afterlife, once a realm of solitude, had become a haven for their eternal reunion—a sanctuary where the threads of familial love were woven into the very fabric of existence.

[mania-sama]

find a time machine and take me back to when i was six

Nate - NF

➼ information ❧ Genshin Impact ❧ Pairing: Kaeya & Klee ❧ Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, gratuitous descriptions of pain, character study ❧ Summary: The story in which Kaeya is affected by the events of the quest, "Requiem of the Echoing Depths." ❧ Word Count: 938 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own ❧ Original post date: 18 April 2022

It started as a pull in his chest. Kaeya ignored it in the beginning, figuring it was a simple spike of anxiety from the close quarters of the confinement room he and the Spark Knight of the Knights of Favonius were trapped in. Klee took his mind off of it as she told an incomprehensible story about Dodoco and Inazuma.

That was the thing about little kids– they don’t have a great sense of understanding of the world around them. When something happens, it’s hard for them to retell it back to an adult in a manner that makes sense. Klee was no exception to this rule, no matter her title and position within the Knights of Favonius. Kaeya found it entertaining nonetheless. At some point, Yoimiya had helped Dodoco draw a picture… he thinks. Sometimes it was better just to nod and agree as if he understood what was going on.

The ringing in his ears became apparent suddenly without warning. Kaeya couldn’t hear Klee anymore, only able to watch as her mouth moved in continuation of the story. The stone walls seemed to start to move inwards, closing the already tight space of the confinement room. He tried his best to hide his growing panic from Klee, although it was clear he wasn’t doing a good job of it. She looked worried and said something, but he wasn’t able to read her lips due to his blurry eyesight.

Gloved hand pushing against the stone wall, Kaeya attempted to stand up from his previous sitting position in the corner of the room. His muscles instantly began to burn, pulling him forward and backwards at the same time. It felt like all of his internal organs, his flesh and bones included, were trying to burst out of his outer layer of skin. He groaned involuntarily, gritting his teeth against the biting pain.

Kaeya’s knees hit harshly against the floor as he collapsed forward. He could barely see Klee as she was undoubtedly shouting at him or to someone else. His head buzzed like a swarm of bees, effectively shutting off all his senses outside of the feeling. All of that, though, was being occupied by his nervous system.

He pulled at his hair, willing for the pain to stop and for his body to remain still. He was not aware of where he was in the room anymore, his uncovered eye squeezed shut as if it would help reduce his agony. Now, instead of combusting in on itself, his body seemed to want to go downwards. Kaeya didn’t know what was down, other than the damp cave systems already explored and unnoteworthy.

The palms of his hands pushed against his temples, and his breathing had become a pattern of uncomfortable hyperpnea. His entire being still wanted to go down, down where the ground would not give under his weight, so his body was retaliating against the pressure.

It got worse, somehow, when he felt the stinging of his covered eye. A thousand needles prickled against his eye, yet his two hands were already occupied protecting his head. Kaeya couldn’t apply pressure even if he wanted to. 

He was convulsing as he suffered nothing short of torture. Kaeya wasn’t sure how long it went on; it could’ve been a few minutes, an hour, a day. It was all the same to him as his soul tried to break apart every cell that held his body together and tried to scatter the stardust that made up his core being. It was with complete certainty, though, that he did pass out cold in the confinement room. Whether that be during the process of torment or after was of no difference. What mattered was the dreams of a distant life Kaeya’s mind supplied him during his time of unconsciousness.

Kaeya did not have many memories of Khaenri’ah. He was six years old when his life turned upside down, or rather, rightside up. He remembered the destruction the archons had caused as they laid waste to his homeland, but not the halls of the castle he once roamed. It was only during the times of sleep that he could recall what he once had before he was ultimately abandoned.

The past was the past, though. His eye was the only remnant of Khaenri’ah he still retained. Home was not the decimated nation– home was the little girl crying in his arms when he woke up in a comfortable bed. Klee took notice of the consciousness of the Cavalry Captain and immediately launched into a story recounting the events. Unfortunately, he remembered the agony all too well, and phantom pain prickled against his skin.

Home was the red-haired bartender, a man Kaeya still believed to be his brother, looking at him with a completely blank stare in the doorway. Home was the acting grandmaster sitting in a chair by his bed, making unsuccessful attempts at pulling Klee off of Kaeya’s extremely exhausted body. Home was the chief alchemist in a snowy land miles outside of Mondstadt, studying the alchemy that Khaenri’ah once excelled in.

Home was not Khaenri’ah, and Kaeya was okay with that. It did not explain why his body suddenly broke down and his soul attempted to flee his body. It did not explain why his unconscious brain only thought of the nation after the torture. However, not all things need an explanation. Kaeya was content with this information– if he received more in the future, then so be it. If he didn’t, then that was fine as well. As long as he could remain home, nothing else, especially not Khaenri’ah, mattered.

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

The Thread that Binds a Sinner and God

Summary: Zhongli awakens his soulmate bond, when he never thought he would. Of course, he didn't expect for his soulmate to be Dainsleif

Word Count: 2584

CW/TW: Mentions of Death, Spoilers for requiem of the echoing depths archon interlude quest, Angst with a happy ending

Zhongli x Dainsleif

Requests are OPEN

Zhongli makes his way along the lake that pools at the base of the Huaguang Stone forest.

In the late afternoon sun, the pillars and surrounding mountains cast long shadows across the valley. 

Zhongli sighs as he raises his eyes to the cloudless sky.

Not for the first time, especially since giving up his gnosis, the weight of the past settles on his shoulder like stone. It’s like the river of time is a tangible thing, surrounding him, both leaving him behind and inexorably sweeping him along in its wake. 

It feels like only yesterday that he stood next to Azhdaha, defending Liyue side by side. And yet only a few hours before they said a goodbye he never thought they’d get.

Zhongli’s gaze falls from the sky to the homes of his fellow adepti. His heart clenches. One day he’ll be saying goodbye to those age old friends too. Time and erosion slowly carrying them to an inevitable end.

The ancient adeptus shakes his head vigorously, clearing his mind with a reminder that this is the natural order of the world, that even he will fall one day.

A pinch in his pinky draws him out of his musings.

Zhongli raises his hand only to find a scarlet thread tied around it.

The tail of the string pulls taut, disappearing a few feet from him, though he’s well aware that someone else is on the other end.

He touches the thread, giving it a gentle tug, smiling when a faint presence in his mind gives a start.

After six millenia, he finally has a soulmate.

Perhaps the stars have some plan for him yet.

That night, Zhongli decides to leave the bond be. After all, there’s enough distance between the two of them that only the strongest of emotions and the worst possible pain filter down the bond created by the string.

Every now and then, Zhongli will be laying in bed at night and the faintest hint of sadness or apathy, but nothing strong.

The greatest change brought on by the soulmate bond is the teasing he receives from Hu Tao and others he interacts with.

One bright day, Zhongli sits outside the Third Round Knockout, listening to one of Iron-tongue Tian’s stories.

His right hand absentmindedly fiddles with the string hanging from his left. 

Over the last few weeks its length has become far less taut, coinciding with a strengthening in the emotion that flows down it.

It’s been almost painful, the way his soulmate seems to alternate between emptiness, fierce determination, and hate. It’s been all he can do to keep projecting a sense of comfort down the bond, but so far it’s done little to ease his soulmate's pain.

Today is a bit of an exception. For once there is a sense of recognition and even fondness, though for some strange reason it’s paired with scorn.

Halfway through Iron-tongue Tian’s story, the constant flow of emotion shifts, flaring into something stronger. Desperation, grief, fear, and rage spill over in heavy waves. Before he can think about it, Zhongli stands, leaving the Third Round Knockout and racing through Liyue’s side streets.

Before he can leave Chihu Rock however, a wave of pain unlike any he’s ever felt brings him to his knees.

No. No. No. I haven’t even met them yet. Please let them be alright.

Zhongli forces himself to his feet, making sure he’s far out of the city before doing something he never thought he’d do again and shifts form.

Scales replace skin as the former archon takes on his draconic form and takes to the sky.

He keeps low to the ground, knowing that rumors of his “return” would certainly follow if he were to be seen, but urgency demands a faster mode of transportation than human feet.

Zhongli follows the string, which is somehow still visible in this form, crossing the southern regions of Liyue.

At this point the string has shifted, disappearing into the ground a few feet from him. How his soulmate ended up in the chasm underground is a question for later. 

For now, Zhongli focuses on skirting the Millelith, fatui, and treasure hoarders.

By the time he slips into a back entrance to the chasm underground the pain and anger have eased, replaced by bone deep weariness and grief.

Despite knowing that his soulmate is probably safe, Zhongli continues on.

While Zhongli makes his way across the chasm underground, Dainsleif watches Aether and Paimon leave.

Paimon chatters to Aether, reassuring him that they’ll meet again. Why they’d want to after he threatened to kill Aether if he sided with his sister, he doesn’t quite know, but at the moment it doesn’t matter.

Waves of residual pain wash over him as he approaches Halfdan’s body. There’s no way he’s leaving him here, to rot where he fell.

He lifts his brother in arms and carries him out of the ruins, before placing him in a small cave and bringing the entrance down.

Dain sits by the collapsed cave entrance, letting waves of residual pain wash over him. The tears he refused to let Aether and Paimon see well up in his eyes.

Would that he had the ability to take Halfdan’s body back to their homeland, but that place is sealed off. Sealed off and far, far away.

“I’m sorry, brother. Thank you for doing what I could not.”

Dainsleif closes his eyes and falls into uneasy sleep, uncaring of the scarlet string that grows ever shorter.

Zhongli finds Dain leaving up against a pile of fallen rocks, face twisted in obvious pain.

For the first time, the scarlet thread attached to his pinky is fully visible, tied to the man in front of him.

Zhongli leaves the man be for a moment, finding a sheltered nook to set up a makeshift camp in. A wave of his hand grinds stone half a foot deep into soft sand, before starting a fire.

He returns to his soulmate, gently lifting him and moving him to the camp.

Once Dain is settled, Zhongli frowns. Running off after his soulmate without any preparation may not have been his best idea.

Then again, looking at his soulmate, he’d rather be here. That being said… there’s a way to get them out. It would be difficult, without the gnosis to aid him, but possible. Whether or not his soulmate would thank him is another issue entirely.

Dainsleif rolls over on his side, and another wave of pain overwhelms him.

No. As much as he’d rather wait for his soulmate’s permission, they're going to have to leave at some point and the blond needs a comfortable place to recover. Comfortable and safe.

With his decision made, Zhongli picks Dainsleif up again, muttering soft words of comfort when the man groans before facing the back wall.

A barked word creates a large jagged crack in the wall, through which he can see the western edge of the harbor, not far from the place where he makes his home.

He steps through and makes his way down the path to the small house.

He has to set Dain down for a moment to let them in, but within a few minutes, Zhongli has him settled in bed.

Zhongli looks over at his soulmate and sighs. All he can do now is wait.

Dainsleif wakes to complete and total darkness. Oddly enough, it’s not the confined darkness of the chasm underground, but the brighter darkness of the world above it.

Even odder, he’s tucked in a bed, covered in silk sheets. The soft scent of incense fills the room.

He groans as he sits up, pressing a gloved hand to his pounding head.

“You’re awake.”

The speaker is a tall, dark haired man.

“Where am I?” Dainsleif winces at the rough quality of his voice.

“My home. I wasn’t going to leave you to sleep in the chasm. It’s not safe.”

The response elicits a scowl. “I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt that. You’ve been out for two days. We had no food or water and I was not going to leave your side long enough to find some. Speaking of food, are you hungry?”

Dainsleif is about to answer with a negative and insist on being shown the exit, but his stomach takes this opportunity to rubble at top volume.

The man chuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll return shortly.”

As he leaves, Dainsleif finally notices the string that ties them together.

Fuck. I’m royally fucked.

Zhongli hurries back with two trays of food. He sets one on Dain’s lap before placing his own on the table he pulled over to the bedside a few days beforehand.

“Eat. You need it.”

Zhongli does his best to ignore the heavy negative emotions flowing down the bond, at least for now.

As soon as he had seen the star pupils in his soulmate’s eyes, he had known that this would need work, but the longer they are this close together, the more it seems like he’s going to be permanently rejected.

“What’s your name?” Zhongli asks, finally.

“Dainsleif.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dainsleif. I’m Zhongli.”

At least in this era I am.

Dainsleif furrows his brow. “You’re lying to me. I can feel it.”

“No I’m not. I have been known by many names. Zhongli is the one I have chosen in this era, for who I am now.”

“Will you give me your true name? I’d like to know that much about my soulmate.”

Zhongli nods. “I suppose my ‘true name’ if any really exists would be Morax. Though I would appreciate not being called by that. I keep wondering when my boss is going to connect the dots.”

“Morax is dead.”

“Most people would think so, wouldn’t they? It was simply best for all involved that I seem so.” 

Dainsleif glares at Zhongli. “You….”

“I think I will take my leave. I understand that you will need time to process this. I simply ask that you spend enough time here to recover. It is safe here. On that you have my word.”

Zhongli leaves, leaving Dainsleif to his own devices.

What in the abyss is fate thinking? Partnering me with an archon? How am I supposed to be with an archon?

Dainsleif freezes. I wanted to be with my partner. That blasted traveler is really getting to me. What do I do now?

After a moment, Dainsleif registers the emotion crossing the bond. He wonders if Zhongli--Morax-- is aware that he’s sending unspoken comfort down the string tying them together, as if he cares.

He pauses. Perhaps the ancient man does care. He’s clearly tainted with abyssal energy and his eyes are clearly Khaenri’ahn.

All he knows is somewhere deep inside, something inside him is begging him to give the archon a chance.

“Khaenri’ah is gone. I am alone. Halfdan,” he speaks to his friend, unable to help the tears that spill over, “do I give our old enemy and one of the ones who cursed us all, a chance? Do either of us get a chance at redemption?”

He goes unanswered.

Several days pass and Zhongli continues to nurse Dain back to health.

When it seems like Dainsleif isn’t going to push him away, he begins speaking of everyday life. He tells stories of Hu Tao and his fellow employees, and speaks of his fellow adepti.

After Dain’s first sleepless night, Zhongli starts telling ancient bedtime stories. Somehow, the archon’s voice easily lulls him to sleep.

One night, a week after rescuing Dain, Zhongli sits outside his house, watching over Liyue harbor.

The door opens and shuts with a soft thump.

“Good evening, Dainsleif.”

“Do you do this often? Sit out here and watch?”

“Yes. My contract with my people is the most important I’ve ever made. I would do anything to protect them.”

“Even curse another nation?”

“Dainsleif… I cannot speak of it. I made a contract….”

“Even to someone who knows everything?”

“I---I don’t know. I made a contract to never speak of it, to reveal nothing.”

Dainsleif takes a moment to think. He touches the string tying them. After 500 years he’s well aware that the Lord of Geo is truly incapable of breaking a contract.

“Can you think of it? Let me feel how you felt?”

“Smart. You think well.”

Zhongli closes his eyes and the emotions being shared shift.

To Dainsleif’s surprise, there’s nothing cold or heartless about them. Instead, there’s pain, guilt, a sense of resistance, as if there was nothing he could do to stop, even though he might have wanted to.

“I…think I see. You really feel no malice towards us.”

“Only to the ones directly responsible for losing monsters on Liyue. If I could find a way to circumvent my contract, I would. In the time that we have been connected I have grown to care for you, I don’t wish for my silence to cause you any more pain.”

“The past is the past and in truth I do not blame the gods. The ones in power brought it upon themselves. My enemy is not the gods, but the Abyss Order that continues to endanger the world.”

“I understand. Thank you for understanding my limitations.”

“What do you want to do about us?”

“Us? I think it is up to you. I have lived a very, very long time. Perhaps as a young adeptus I might have hoped that I would have a soulmate. But after the Archon War, after Guizhong the God of Dust, died, it seemed too easy to lose a soulmate. Besides, I was more than 3000 years old at that point. It was easy to think I would never see the red string of fate on my own hand. Since giving up my gnosis I have resolved to live as much of a normal life as I can.”

“An archon can live a normal life?”

“We can try. I’ve heard that the Anemo archon also spends his days amongst his people.”

The emotions flowing between them hit a sour note.

“You don’t like him?”

“Barbatos is a lazy drunkard. His nation has long survived without his overt interference. For much of my time as an Archon it seemed very improper.”

“I see.”

“Will you give me a chance, Dainsleif? I am well aware that I have done much to earn your hatred and that Khaenri’ahns have never liked the gods. But fate tied us together anyway.”

“I---I am willing. I have spent a lot of time thinking. I will not give up until I’ve eliminated the abyss order, but if you want to join me, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to have a companion once again.”

“I would have to speak to Hu Tao, but I would not mind traveling with you. There is much I haven’t seen in this world. If you will have me, I will help you in your cause. The Abyss Order is a threat to all.”

Dainsleif takes a seat next to his soulmate, letting their knees brush together. “We don’t have to decide now, but I am willing to give you a chance. To give us a chance.”

“Thank you.”

The two men, once on either side of a line drawn in the sand, sit in silence. And when the Harbor finally sleeps, a god and a sinner walk side by side. The string between them vanishes, but the bond forever remains.

[screamingthatnamw]

Smut no plot

I take a deep breath as I make eye contact with the stranger across the bar  there's an electric energy between us and I feel my heart pounding in my chest as he leans closer "so would you like to get out of here?" He says.

As we could to the house, our bodies press against each other, feeling the heat radiing between us. I trace my finger along her skin igniting a trail of goosebumps in her wake our lips me in a passionate kiss tongue's dancing and exploring each other's mouths your hands roam her body sending shivers down her spine the desired between us grows stronger with each passing moment

"So wet already he says in a low husky voice"

I run my fingers through your hair before I pull it, harshly my touch, sending shivers down your spine with a lustful gaze pulling her closer, the anticipation builds as our body's mingle, enticing, and intoxicating

I roughly push you against the wall. My hands are roaming your body as i passionately kiss your bare neck my fingers fumble with the buttons of your shirt eager to explore every inch of your skin the room her moans fills with intoxicating desire our bodies enterwine with the passionate kiss,succumbing to the depth of pleasure

As we enter the bedroom, I slowly undress you savoring the site of your naked body. I'm a requiem with desire, that I press my lips against yours hungrily our bodies, enter wine, I pull you close my hands, exploring your body as our lips meet again in the desire we kiss the desire between us and intensifies

With every thrust in a fast motion , echoing through the room, our body's  moving perfect in synch reaching new pleasure that we thought we would never have experienced

As I thrust into you, I choke kisses a longer neck down to your collarbone. My hands explore every curve.

"Your moans are music to my ears he growls"

The thrust  get sloppy her hands claw  his back as she is about to cum  her climax approaches

"She moans lustfully in his ears as she cums all over his cock.

Y'all I'm so sorry I really bad at dialogue.

Send request

[chonccy]

The storm.

Trigger Warning:

The content that follows may contain sensitive and potentially distressing material. It addresses topics such as self-harm, suicide, and mental health struggles. Please proceed with caution and prioritize your well-being. If you are currently experiencing emotional distress or having suicidal thoughts, I urge you to reach out to a mental health professional or a helpline in your country. Remember, you are not alone, and help is available to you.

Chapter 1- Maddie

The storm raged outside, its thunderous symphony overpowering every other sound. Maddie sat on the edge of her bed, the flickering candle on her nightstand casting eerie shadows on the walls. Thoughts swirled in her mind like the gusts of wind rattling the windows, her thoughts weighed down by a sense of despair and a yearning for something more. Alone amid the tempest, Maddie's mind wandered through the corridors of her life. She pondered the choices she had made, the dreams she had once held so dear, and the disappointments that had slowly eroded her spirit. The storm outside seemed to reflect her inner turmoil, a perfect mirror to the chaos within. With a heavy sigh, Maddie rose from the bed and made her way down the dimly lit hallway. The flickering candle's glow danced on the walls, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to whisper secrets and regrets. Her footsteps echoed through the silent house, a lonely rhythm in harmony with the storm's relentless drumming.

Reaching the bathroom, she paused before the closed door, her hand hesitating on the knob. Her gaze met the reflection in the hallway mirror, a reflection of a soul in search of respite. She locked eyes with her own weary image, searching for answers amidst the turbulent depths of her being. In a moment of surrender, Maddie turned the doorknob, revealing the bathroom's soft glow. She entered the serene sanctuary, seeking refuge within the embrace of warm water. Her trembling hand turned the faucets, coaxing the liquid life to cascade into the waiting tub. As steam curled through the air, the room filled with a soothing mist, a temporary shield against the storms that raged outside. Maddie undressed, shedding the layers of her physical and emotional burdens, each garment falling to the cold tiles with a muted thud. With hesitant steps, Maddie descended into the depths of the tub, submerging herself in the swirling embrace of warm water. Her senses drowned in the rhythmic lullaby of raindrops against the window, the crackling of thunder punctuating the stillness. As the water enveloped her, Maddie closed her eyes, allowing the weight of her thoughts to dissipate with each gentle wave. She sought solace in the solitude, a momentary reprieve from the battles she fought within her own mind. Yet, even as the storm outside raged on, Maddie knew that she couldn't escape the tempest within her. The water around her became a reflection of her own turmoil, as if the storm had invaded the sanctuary she sought.

Maddie's parents returned home from a pleasant evening out, their hearts filled with contentment and thoughts of their daughter. As they entered the house, a strange stillness hung in the air, shrouded by the lingering scent of an extinguished candle.  A sense of unease settled upon them, and they called out for Maddie, their voices echoing through the silent halls. But there was no response, only an unsettling silence that seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment. Their worry intensified, and they hurriedly made their way through the dimly lit house. Their footsteps echoed like a somber requiem, punctuated by the distant rumble of thunder. They reached the bathroom, and their hearts skipped a beat as they noticed the locked door.

A surge of panic coursed through Maddie's parents as they pounded on the door, their voices filled with urgency and fear. "Maddie, open the door! Are you okay?" they cried, their words desperate, pleading. Silence greeted their pleas, amplifying their anxiety. Time seemed to stretch, each second an   . Trembling hands fumbled for keys, desperately trying to unlock the barrier that separated them from their beloved daughter. Finally, the door yielded to their persistence, swinging open to reveal a heart-wrenching scene. Maddie lay lifeless in the tub, her expression peaceful yet haunting. The room felt heavy with sorrow, the echoes of a life cut short mingling with the storm's lament outside. Maddie's parents rushed to her side, their cries of anguish blending with the torrential rain that beat against the windows. In that moment, the storm's fury mirrored their own devastation. They cradled their daughter, their tears mingling with the drops of rain that fell upon her lifeless form.

Time stood still as grief washed over them, the storm outside now a mere backdrop to the tempest raging within their hearts. They clung to each other, finding solace in shared sorrow, while the storm's relentless torrent echoed the depths of their loss. In the wake of the storm, a void was left behind—a void that no rain could wash away. As Maddie's parents held her lifeless body, they vowed to carry her memory forward, to seek understanding in the face of unanswerable questions, and to honour her life by spreading awareness about the struggles she faced. The storm outside continued to rage, its tears mingling with the tears of a shattered family. In that darkest of nights, they found strength in their love for Maddie and resolved to weather the storm of grief together, one step at a time.

The morning sun struggled to break through the lingering storm clouds, casting a muted light over the school grounds. The halls buzzed with whispers and somber faces as students and faculty made their way to the auditorium, where an assembly was to be held in honour of Maddie's memory. As the clock neared the designated time, the auditorium doors swung open, and a hushed silence fell upon the gathered crowd. Students, teachers, and staff filed in, finding their seats amidst a sea of emotions. The air felt heavy with grief and disbelief, a shared weight that bound them together in this moment of remembrance. On the stage, a podium stood as a beacon of strength amidst the sorrow. The principal, his voice trembling with emotion, approached the podium and began to address the assembled students. He spoke of Maddie's infectious spirit, her radiant smile that brightened the darkest days, and the impact she had on those around her. The words spoken echoed through the room, touching hearts, and opening the floodgates of tears. A slideshow of memories illuminated the screen behind the principal, capturing snapshots of Maddie's life—her infectious laughter, her vibrant presence in classrooms and hallways, and her unyielding determination.

As the assembly ended, a soft melody filled the auditorium, a tribute to Maddie's love for music. It resonated through the souls of those present, a bittersweet melody that carried both sorrow and the promise of healing. With heavy hearts, the students and faculty rose from their seats, their eyes swollen from tears but filled with a newfound determination. The storm of emotions still raged within them, but they emerged from that assembly hall united in their commitment to honour Maddie's memory.

Rose, a young woman with fiery orange hair and an air of quiet intelligence, walked through the halls of her high school with an enigmatic presence. Her gaze was focused, her steps purposeful, seemingly unfazed by the collective grief that permeated the atmosphere. It was as if she carried an invisible shield, shielding her emotions from the weight of the tragedy that had befallen her dear friend, Maddie. Rose and Maddie had been inseparable since childhood, their friendship an unbreakable bond that weathered storms and blossomed in the sunshine of shared adventures. They had laughed together, cried together, and dreamed together. Maddie's vibrant spirit had always been a source of inspiration for Rose, filling her days with light and her heart with joy. But now, Maddie was gone. The news of her untimely death had rocked the entire school, casting a somber shadow over the lives of those who had known her. Yet, as Rose moved through the hallways, her expression remained stoic, her emotions carefully concealed. Some whispered in hushed tones, speculating about Rose's seemingly unaffected demeanour. How could she remain so composed, so distant from the collective grief that hung heavily in the air? Little did they know that beneath Rose's calm exterior lay a storm of conflicting emotions. Rose had always been one to internalize her pain, to retreat into the sanctuary of her own thoughts. The weight of Maddie's absence gnawed at her, but she chose to bear the burden silently, protecting her vulnerable heart from further wounds.

Rose entered her first class of the day, her steps measured and her mind preoccupied. As she took her seat, she couldn't help but notice Stella, a popular and confident cheerleader, approaching her. It was a surprise, as Stella had never shown any interest in Rose before.

"Hey, Rose," Stella said, her voice laced with genuine concern. "Are you okay? I heard about what happened to Maddie, and I just wanted to check on you."

Rose's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion, her defences instinctively rising. The sudden attention from someone like Stella felt unfamiliar, almost unsettling. She had become accustomed to navigating the hallways alone, unnoticed by the popular crowd.

"Why do you care?" Rose replied, her voice tinged with a touch of scepticism. "We've never really spoken before. What's your angle?"

Stella's eyes widened slightly, taken aback by Rose's defensive response. She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts before speaking again.

"I know we haven't really interacted much, but Maddie's death has affected everyone," Stella explained, her voice genuine. "She was a friend to many, and her loss has created ripples throughout the school. I just wanted to extend my support, that's all."

Rose studied Stella's face, searching for any signs of insincerity. There was something in Stella's eyes that seemed genuine, a glimmer of compassion that Rose hadn't expected.

"I appreciate your concern," Rose finally said, her tone softening slightly. "Maddie meant a lot to a lot of people, and her absence has left a void in many lives. It's just... I've learned to be cautious of sudden interest from people who have never paid me any attention before." Stella nodded, understanding the weight of Rose's words. She realized the impact of her gesture might be misconstrued given their previous lack of interaction.

"I understand," Stella replied, her voice sincere. "I'm truly sorry for your loss, Rose. If you ever need someone to talk to or if there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to reach out. Sometimes, unexpected connections can bring solace in difficult times."

Rose, though still guarded, felt a glimmer of appreciation for Stella's genuine offer of support. Perhaps, amidst the storm of grief and confusion, there was a possibility of finding unexpected connections and shared understanding.

"Thank you, Stella," Rose responded, her voice softer now. "I'll keep that in mind. And same for you as well. I know you and Maddie were close, and I hope your doing ok. " And as the class began, Rose and Stella returned to their respective seats, their exchange lingering in the air. It was a small spark of connection, a glimmer of possibility amidst the tempestuous storm that had engulfed their lives.

The day seemed to stretch on endlessly, each passing minute feeling like an eternity as Rose counted down the hours until lunchtime. The weight of grief and the hollowness of Maddie's absence cast a shadow over the classroom, making it difficult for Rose to fully engage in her studies. She found herself lost in a sea of thoughts, her mind drifting back to memories of Maddie and the laughter they had once shared. The mundane lectures and classroom chatter seemed distant and unimportant compared to the gravity of what had transpired. As the hands of the clock inched closer to noon, Rose's anticipation grew. Lunchtime held the promise of respite, a temporary escape from the suffocating atmosphere of grief that clung to the school. It was a chance to gather with friends, to seek solace in their presence. Finally, the bell rang, signaling the much-awaited break. Students poured out of classrooms, their footsteps echoing through the hallways as they made their way towards the bustling cafeteria. Rose joined the stream of students, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.  In the bustling cafeteria, Rose's gaze darted around the room, searching for a familiar face. Her eyes scanned the sea of students, hoping to catch a glimpse of Isaac, a friend whose presence provided her with a sense of calm amidst the storm. However, before she could find him, Rose felt a tap on her shoulder, causing her to turn around. Standing before her were Matty and Lauran, two classmates she had rarely interacted with. The surprise of their presence and their sudden concern sent a flicker of suspicion through her mind.

"Hey, Rose," Matty said, his usually sarcastic tone replaced with genuine worry. "We heard about Maddie and wanted to check on you. Are you holding up, okay?" Lauran nodded in agreement, her usually arrogant demeanor softened. "Yeah, we may not have been close friends, but no one should have to go through something like this alone. We're here for you."

Rose's brow furrowed as she regarded them with caution. Their sudden display of concern seemed incongruous with their previous interactions, and it triggered a wave of suspicion. She had learned to be cautious of those who seemed to have hidden agendas.

"Thanks," Rose replied, her voice tinged with scepticism. "I appreciate your concern, but it's just... strange. Why now? We've barely spoken before. Why the sudden interest?"

Matty sighed, his eyes revealing a hint of vulnerability. "Look, I get why you're sceptical. We haven't been the best of friends, but Maddie's death has made us realize how fragile life is. It's a wake-up call that we should be there for each other, regardless of our past interactions." Lauran's expression softened, her eyes conveying a genuine desire to bridge the gap between them. "Rose, Maddie's passing has shaken us all. We may have had our differences, but it's moments like these that remind us of our shared humanity. We want to offer our support, even if it seems out of character for us."

Rose studied their faces, searching for any signs of ulterior motives. Despite her scepticism, a part of her yearned for connection and understanding. The loss of Maddie had shattered her world, leaving her adrift in a sea of emotions. Perhaps, in this unexpected display of concern, there was a glimmer of hope. With a cautious nod, Rose finally spoke, her voice softened by a mix of vulnerability and longing. "I appreciate your words, and I won't deny that I could use some support right now. But please understand that it'll take time for me to fully trust and open. Maddie's death has left wounds that run deep."

Matty and Lauran nodded understandingly, their intentions appearing genuine. They understood that healing took time, and their newfound compassion seemed rooted in a shared understanding of loss. As they stood there, the bustling cafeteria faded into the background, and for a moment, Rose allowed herself to believe that amidst the storm of grief, unexpected connections and compassion could emerge. They both left together and Rose, feeling confused and weird, went off to find Isaac.

Rose made her way through the bustling cafeteria, her heart pounding with a mixture of relief and anxiety as she spotted Isaac sitting at a table, engrossed in a book. She approached him, her footsteps hesitant yet determined.

"Hey, Isaac," she said softly, trying to catch his attention. He looked up, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern as he noticed the seriousness in her eyes.

"Rose, is everything alright?" Isaac asked, his voice filled with genuine worry. "You seem a bit off. What's been going on?"

Rose took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before responding. " It’s been a weird morning. In first period, stella approached me and tried to make conversation and just now Matty and Lauran approached me. They showed concern for me, which was strange considering we've barely spoken before." Isaac's eyebrows furrowed, his expression mirroring Rose's confusion. "Matty and Lauran? Stella? That is unexpected. Did they say why they suddenly reached out?"

Rose shook her head, a mixture of frustration and uncertainty crossing her face. "They mentioned Maddie's passing and wanting to offer support, but it feels... off. Like there might be something else going on."

Isaac's eyes narrowed in contemplation as he considered Rose's words. "I understand why you'd be suspicious. It's important to trust your instincts. People's motivations can be complex, especially in times like these."

Rose sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I just don't know who to trust anymore. Maddie's death has shaken everything, and it feels like everyone has their own agenda." Isaac reached out and gently placed his hand on Rose's, offering a comforting gesture. "I'm here for you, Rose. You can trust me. I'll always have your back."

A flicker of relief crossed Rose's face as she met Isaac's reassuring gaze. She knew deep down that his friendship was genuine, a rock she could rely on in the stormy sea of uncertainty.

"Thank you, Isaac," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "Having you by my side means more than you know."

As they sat there, the noise of the cafeteria faded into the background, and Rose felt a renewed sense of strength. With Isaac's unwavering support, she knew she could navigate the intricate web of emotions and unravel the mysteries that surrounded her.

As they sat to eat lunch, Rose's gaze swept across the bustling cafeteria until her eyes locked with Nathan's, a spark of recognition and affection passing between them. They had made a pact to keep their relationship a secret, shielding it from the prying eyes and potential judgment of their peers. Nathan, with his warm smile and kind eyes, radiated adoration for Rose. He understood the importance of protecting their connection, cherishing the moments they shared away from the watchful gazes that could potentially influence their relationship. He was determined to keep her happy and safe, even if it meant sitting with the jocks, a group that included Jason, Will, and Shaun. As Rose observed Nathan surrounded by his friends, a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirled within her. The jocks projected an air of confidence and camaraderie, but she couldn't help but wonder how much of Nathan's true self was masked in their presence. Would their influence overshadow the tender moments they cherished in private? But Nathan's gaze held a promise, a silent reassurance that their bond remained steadfast and genuine. He went to great lengths to ensure Rose's happiness, often putting her needs above his own. It was a testament to his unwavering commitment and the depth of his love for her. With a smile that only they shared, Rose found solace in their secret connection. In a world where appearances often trumped authenticity, they had forged a sanctuary where their love could flourish, shielded from the expectations and opinions of others.

On her way to her next class after lunch, Rose hurried through the bustling hallways, her mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Maddie's tragic death. Suddenly, a figure stepped out from a shadowed corner, causing her heart to race and her breath to catch in her throat. It was Shaun, known for his intimidating presence and occasional bursts of aggression. Rose took an instinctive step back, her body tense with a mix of fear and uncertainty. However, to her surprise, Shaun's face softened, and he quickly raised his hands in a gesture of apology.

"Hey, Rose, I'm sorry if I scared you," he spoke, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to check in and see how you're coping."

Rose, though still a bit on edge, let out a small sigh of relief. She realized that Shaun's intention wasn't to harm her, but rather to express genuine concern. After a moment's hesitation, she replied, her voice cautious yet curious. "I appreciate your apology, Shaun," she said. "I'm coping as best as I can under the circumstances. It's been tough for everyone. How are you holding up?"

Shaun's eyes darkened, a flicker of pain passing through them. He paused, collecting his thoughts before responding."I won't lie, Rose. It's been incredibly hard. Losing Maddie has shattered me," he admitted, his voice tinged with sorrow. "She meant everything to me. But now, all I have are memories and unanswered questions."

Rose felt a pang of sympathy for Shaun, realizing the depth of his grief and the weight he carried as Maddie's former boyfriend. Their shared connection to Maddie, though different, bonded them in a way neither of them expected. As their conversation neared its end, Shaun's expression grew serious, his gaze piercing into Rose's eyes.

"Rose, in times like these, you need to be careful," he warned, his tone filled with caution. "Not everyone who approaches you has good intentions. Trust your instincts, and don't believe everything you hear. People can be deceiving, especially when emotions run high."

His words echoed in Rose's mind, a stark reminder of the complexity and hidden agendas that sometimes lurked beneath the surface of seemingly innocent interactions. She nodded, understanding the gravity of Shaun's advice.

"Thank you, Shaun. I appreciate your concern and your honesty," she replied, her voice tinged with determination. "I'll keep that in mind." With a nod of acknowledgment, Shaun offered a brief smile before turning to head in the opposite direction. As Rose continued her way to class, his words lingered in her thoughts, serving as a sobering reminder to navigate the tumultuous aftermath of Maddie's death with caution and discernment.

After a long and exhausting day at school, the final bell rang, signalling the end of classes and the start of Rose's journey home. She usually walked the familiar route, accompanied by her favourite tunes that matched her mood. But today, she opted to leave her earphones behind, seeking solace in the quietude of her thoughts. As she strolled along, her mind still filled with the peculiar encounters of the day, Rose felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Nathan's name flashed on the screen, and she couldn't help but smile. He had always been there for her, a pillar of support and understanding. She unlocked her phone and read his message, expressing genuine concern about her day and urging her to be cautious. Grateful for his caring nature, she typed a quick response, sharing the strange incidents she had encountered. Nathan's reply arrived promptly, a mix of empathy and protectiveness resonating through the text. Lost in the exchange, Rose's attention was momentarily diverted until she arrived at her front door. As she reached for the doorknob, her eyes caught sight of a small, mysterious package resting on the welcome mat. A shiver of curiosity ran down her spine, mingled with a touch of apprehension. Picking up the package, she carefully examined it. The wrapping was unassuming, giving away no clues about its contents. Rose's curiosity grew, and she couldn't resist the temptation to unravel the enigma before her. With gentle hands, she untied the ribbon and opened the package, revealing a USB drive nestled inside. Intrigued yet cautious, she stepped into her home and made her way to her room. Plugging the USB into her computer, she hesitated for a moment, contemplating the origin of this mysterious gift. With a mix of anticipation and curiosity, she double-clicked on the only file in the drive.

“Hey, it’s Maddie.”

[danafeelingsick]

ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ 2/2

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

[SPOILERS] Takes place after Chapter II: Act IV of the Archon quest – Requiem of the Echoing Depths, where Dainsleif is found injured and weakened in the chasm, and Aether tries to take care of him.

ᴀᴏ3

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ descriptions of food, comfort (not much), feeding (non-se*ual), nausea, mentions of injury, vomiting

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ 5,2k~

         Dainsleif woke up a few hours later, with the impression something or someone had been watching him. There was a sudden noise he couldn't quite place, like the faint rustle of a cape, but it was gone from his memory as fast as it appeared.

         Looking around he found nothing but an empty stool beside him, the forgotten book sitting on the side table, and a humid cloth resting on his forehead. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he looked around the room, finding no sign of the traveler anywhere.

         He no longer felt that uncomfortable heat enveloping his body, only the cozy gentle warmth of the blankets remained. He felt safe, strangely, it was something he had long forgotten how felt. Even the twisting pain on his side had subsidized, leaving only a bearable almost unnoticeable sting whenever he breathed in too deeply.

         He knew he would heal. He would always heal.

         It might have been the most peaceful rest he'd have in decades, but he couldn't stay for long. Even if his body was begging him to lay back down and close his eyes for just a few more minutes, he couldn't. If he let his guard down again if he allowed himself to relax–

         As if his worries had just spawned into reality, there was a sudden knock on the door, and shortly after, it creaked open. The traveler stepped inside the room, balancing a plate and a steaming teacup in a tray as Paimon held the door open for him.

         “Hey, good morning”, he greeted warmly and Dainsleif couldn't help but feel an almost familiar comfort in the tenderness of his voice.

         “Morning, Dain!” Paimon waved her small hand as she stopped by Aether's side, floating just above his shoulder. “Paimon hopes you're feeling better now.”

         “Were you able to rest?” Aether inquired, his cheerful tone assuming an almost unnoticed wordless caution.

         “Indeed, I slept very well”, Dain responded simply, able to muster a muted smile that didn't make it past his eyes.

         “That's good to hear”, Aether said, the relief on his face was almost palpable in the sigh he discreetly let out. “Well, I thought you'd be hungry, so I went ahead and made you some fisherman's toast.”

         “And Paimon brought the tea!”, the flying fairy announced, then coyly added: “Well, the tea leaves at least.”

         Carefully, the traveler settled the tray on the stool, and Dainsleif was able to see the light green-colored liquid inside the teacup and the pile of fresh toast on the plate. He couldn't deny his mouth watered at the sight, but all it did was remind him of the taste of sickness still on his tongue.

         He frowned slightly, his eyes wandering to the carpeted floor where he had dumped the contents of his stomach just a few hours ago, not finding a trace of the mess he had made. Still, he felt unsettled, the sight of food sprouting a queasy hollow sensation he had grown quite used to through so many decades.

         “How sweet do you like your tea?” Aether asked, carefully picking up the teacup by the wing, and gently blowing the spirals of steams off it before handing it to him. “I didn't put any sugar in it, just to be safe. But if you want it, there's some here.”

         “Traveler”, Dainsleif said apprehensively, feeling the warm slosh inside the cup in his hands, a faint sweet smell emanating from it. “I'd rather you don't waste food on me.”

         “Don't say that, just say you're not hungry if that's the case”, the traveler frowned at his words, his eyebrows furrowing. “You're not wasting anything.”

         “I'm merely saying I might not… be able to keep it down”, Dainsleif admitted, swallowing audibly, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice.

         “Oh, that… yeah. It's fine, we can keep a bucket nearby”, Aether shrugged, pointing to the floor where a newly empty bucket rested under the bed. He tried to sound dismissive, but the man simply glanced away. “Dain, you threw up a lot back there. You should try to eat something.”

         “If you don't eat it then Paimon will!”, the floating guide butted in, adding her version of a threat to the conversation.

         “Can't you at least try the tea?” Aether pleaded, genuine worry in his frown as he joined his hands. “And just one toast. Please? Then I'll let you sleep some more.”

         Although a nap sounded promising, it was the please that made him reconsider. He eyed the cup of tea, letting out a soft sigh as he brought it to his mouth and took a sip, the fresh and sweet flavor of mint bathing his tongue. The content must've been evident in his face, for Aether's expression also softened.

         “So, how is it?” Paimon asked, expectantly. 

         “It's good”, Dain responded simply, almost shrugging as he couldn't find another word for it. It was good, simple as that.

         His stomach seemed to be accepting it well enough. Unlike the way food felt like it was burning a hole through his innards, the tea spread a cozy warmth as he swallowed it. But it barely lasted, having him almost unconsciously going for another sip just to feel it again.

         He glanced back at the traveler, hoping to find him more relaxed now that his gut didn't immediately reject the tea. Instead, he bumped into a piece of toast inches away from his mouth, and an expectant look right behind it.

         “Just a bite”, Aether begged, practically waving the food in front of him. “Please?”

         Again with that. Dainsleif rolled his eyes before he nibbled the food, realizing his stubborn refusal would only reflect on the traveler's insistence. He could only hope his stomach would follow.

         The scent of onion and tomato filled his nostrils, making his stomach beg for more as he slowly chewed. The crunchy noises were a nice change from the mushy rations he'd always have during his travels, definitely something he couldn't afford to get used to.

         Before long, with Aether pushing him to have another bite and then another, until the entire toast was gone and he was already going for one more. This time, Dainsleif picked the food out of his hand and ate it himself, trying to dismiss the small smile forming on the young man's face.

         “I hope it's still good, I had to cut on the spice a little”, he said, putting the plate on his lap, trying to be subtle as if he was nudging him to keep eating. “Paimon usually likes it with extra onion”, he added, gesturing towards the little one, who promptly nodded.

         “It is Paimon's favorite!”

         “It is… quite good, in fact”, Dain retorted, picking up the third toast and mutely praying his stomach would maintain its kindness.

         “Well, that's good to hear…”, Aether repeated, glancing away as an awkward silence momentarily fell between. “Do you think you could try some medicine now?”

         “Medicine?”, he swallowed first, then echoed.

         “I went out while you were asleep and bought some. Explained your symptoms and everything, but don't worry, I didn't say anything about what happened”, Aether explained, sounding almost dismissive as he added: “They said it sounds like a wound infection, but since it's been cleaned, as long as the fever or nausea doesn't come back, these should work.”

         Dainsleif let out a small hum, taking another sip of his tea as his mouth suddenly felt dry. It was like night and day, the once fresh sweetness now had a slightly bitter aftertaste, but he fought to ignore it.

         “I– I suppose I could try…”, he budged, struggling to swallow around the pit forming in his throat.

         Aether nodded, promising he'd be back shortly as he hurried to his feet, taking the empty tray with him as he left. Paimon seemed momentarily lost as the two were left in silence, only the sounds of munching to fill it. Almost absentmindedly she floated to Dain's side, huge eyes fixed on the remaining toast.

         Dainsleif ate in silence, his appetite fleeting every time he managed to swallow, adding to the slight discomfort in his belly. It barely hurt but just a few moments ago his stomach had been thoroughly emptied, so he could feel in detail the food sitting there. Nausea was slowly but surely creeping back, making him wish he had dared to refuse it.

         “Paimon, would, uh, would you like to have this last one?”, he offered, holding the plate to the floating guide, who jumped back slightly, caught by surprise.

         “Are you sure?”, Paimon asked, her eyes growing worried but still glued to the treat. “The traveler made these just for you.”

         “Go ahead”, he said gravely, trying to ignore the need to swallow dry as he raised the plate. “I can't stomach any more of it.”

         “Hum, alright”, swiftly, she snatched it away, taking a bite out of it bigger than her head. “Paimon won't tell.”

         Dainsleif returned to silence once more, taking small meaningless sips out of his tea, trying not to think so much of the now sickly sweet taste. Guilt was the last thing in mind. Had he always been this suggestable? Just the small mention of nausea had him acutely aware of his stomach now tense, even that small amount of food sitting heavily inside it, the bandages digging into it every time he breathed.

         He found himself sipping an empty cup as the door clicked open and the traveler entered the room once more, carrying a glass of water and an 

 open palm. He seemed confident enough that the medicine would stay down as he handed it to Dain, two small white pills which he just stared at, gulping soundly as his throat gave a weak spasm.

         “I can break it down if you can't swallow it”, Aether offered along with a sympathetic smile. “But it might work faster if you do.”

         “No need, it's fine", Dain responded, downing the pills without thinking twice, that chalky dry taste making his tongue wince inside his mouth. There was enough saliva in his mouth to swallow it safely, but his throat seemed to be actively compressing around the strange body, having him go for the water right after. “Gulp– thank you…”

         If he were paying attention, he would've heard the liquid splashing inside his nearly empty stomach, immediately curdling as it mixed with the clumps of toast and the tea. A strange chill spread through his abdomen and he shuddered out of disgust, swallowing thickly what tasted like bitter saliva.

         “Alright, now that you're all settled, it should start working in about 30 minutes. More or less”, Aether said, trying to sound just a little more optimistic. He turned to the little floating guide, who was trying her hardest to hide the guilt and the crumbs of toast around her mouth. “Paimon, can you remind me?”

         “Sure thing”, she responded, putting her hands behind herself as if to hide the red in it.

         Dainsleif let out a sigh as he sunk deeper into the pillow, briefly closing his eyes when a new coat of saliva washed over his tongue. There was a timer now floating over his head, 30 minutes he would have to fight against nausea creeping closer. Maybe if he just focused, then time would go by faster, like it was supposed to when he had lived for so long.

         There was a few seconds of silence, where Dain could hear his own throat spasming every time he swallowed, praying he was the only one to hear it. Focusing was proving itself to be useless.

         “Well, we'll let you rest now. Just call if you need anything, I'll be in the other room”, he heard the traveler say, a clear nod of sympathy in his voice. The stool creaked as he stood up. “C'mon, Paimon.”

         “Wait, Traveler”, Dainsleif called not a second later, catching him as soon as he turned to leave. Even Paimon froze where she stood. “If you don't mind, could you stay?”

         “Of course”, Aether hurriedly turned back, concern downing on him once more. “Why, what are you feeling?”

         “I… hm”, he started, his voice getting caught in his throat. Was lying even an option anymore? “I think nausea might be… returning.”

         The traveler let out a small hum as he thought, taking his place back on the stool.

         “I-It's nothing alarming, it's just… the food isn't sitting well”, he reiterated, feeling embarrassment grip his throat. “And I rather not… you know.”

         “Got it…”, Aether interjected where he trailed off. “Well, how can I help with that?”

         “Oh, does talking help?”, Paimon jumped forward to give her suggestion. “The traveler can tell you some stories, maybe that will distract you for 28 minutes.”

         “I suppose…”, it didn't take long for Dain to agree, anything to keep his mind off his queasy stomach. “Then, would you tell me more about your travels?”

         The traveler thought for a brief moment, his eyes wandering to the side table where his book lay, and that seemed to spark an idea inside his head. He started recollecting about the Irodori festival held just recently in Inazuma, and all of those great books he got to buy, the people he got to meet, the meetings, the food.

         Although he tried to keep it short, resuming the near week of festivities took him just a little longer than he expected, but Dainsleif listened to him politely, as best as he could, even stitching in some questions of his own.

         “I must admit, that Legend of Sword book you mentioned… I've leafed through one of its volumes before”, he commented, absentmindedly. “It was an interesting read, as brief as it was. But do go on, don't let me interrupt you.”

         “We can get you one signed if you want. We know the author, he's our friend”, Paimon eagerly offered.

         Dain chuckled slightly, something Aether never thought he would hear, and politely declined with a shake of his head, motioning for him to continue.

          Admittedly, he looked well, much better than when he had arrived, but Aether noticed when he sunk further into the pillows. His breath shuddering faintly, his chest picking up the pace, his face gradually losing even more color. He frowned, but couldn't do much except keep a close eye on him. At some point, Dain even stopped looking at him while he spoke, choosing to lay his head back and close his eyes as he clearly struggled with his nausea.

         “Dain?” The traveler's story faded into the question, his tone was soft and cautious as if he expected Dain to snap at him.

         He didn't answer at first, the only sounds coming from him were audible gulps, his throat bobbing constantly as he kept swallowing, until his stomach made itself heard, and a low hollow growl came from under the covers. Dainsleif frowned deeply, his face flushing slightly, but it barely lasted, he was growing paler by the second.

         He laid a careful hand over his belly, his face pinched in pain and disgust. The half of his mask turned to the traveler giving him an almost out worldly feel.

         Aether frowned in sympathy, but he couldn't wallow in pity for long. Quietly, he retrieved a bucket from under the bed, pulling it closer just enough for quick access.

         “Just let me know when… okay?”, he said gently, without taking his eyes off Dainsleif.

         The wounded captain simply nodded, weakly, remaining in silence, his eyebrows forming a single crooked line as he grimaced, his pale lips pressed into a thin, almost invisible line.

         Aether didn't have anything to say anymore, Dain wasn't paying attention, fighting against the threat of another vomiting spell was taking up all of his strength. The man's cheeks caved in as he swallowed again, his mouth was quickly flooded with saliva that seemed to stick to the walls of his throat as it went down.

         There was a hint of denial in him still, trying to breathe carefully through his nose, and ignore the growing metallic taste on his tongue. The way his stomach seemed to be tying itself into a knot, cramping mercilessly as it swirled the few contents inside it. The ties around felt like there were tightening on their own, nearly eating away at his bare skin, adding even more discomfort to his bruised stomach. It burned with a hollowness, but there wasn't a single hint of appetite, he couldn't even think of food without–

         “Mmm, guh–”, he gagged, his lips parting when his jaw seemed to contort along with his throat.

         The thought of putting anything else in his belly, the pills dissolving inside his stomach, turning into a froth, had his throat spasming around a bubble of air climbing its way up, sitting atop his gullet. He didn't dare to force it out, his belly was already bruised from the previous times, so he waited, carefully guiding it until he was able to belch. The acidic taste it brought had his face crumpling like paper.

         “E-Excuse me…”, he murmured, bringing a hand to his mouth when another harsh gag made him squeeze his eyes shut.

         There was no denying it, he was going to throw up, and it was foolish of him to think that mixture, as light as it was, would go down without a fight. Most foods didn't, it was one of the many side effects of living for so long, tastes became blander and his stomach grew weaker to them.

         Dain weakly started slumping forward, his covers falling away from his bare torso, showing the tight bandages underneath, digging into the curvature of his abdomen. He clung to the bed sheets as he rode out another cramp on his belly, it left him breathless. No matter how much he denied it, his stomach was writhing under his skin, and he could feel, in the harsh gags over his lap, the contents of it tossing, climbing up his throat.

         The bed creaked slightly, the mattress sinking to the side, but even with all this tells it still took him a moment to realize Aether had sat on the edge by his side. He was too caught up in his own misery.

         Dain tried to say something, in between shallow breaths and weaker gags, but his voice didn't come out at first. Instead, his head sunk as his shoulders jumped, a sudden involuntary heave sending his throat jumping to his chin.

         Aether mouthed a small “oh” as the surprise hit him, his hand going to cover his mouth. Dainsleif sunk even further into himself, embarrassment ringing in his ears.

         “I-It's okay…”, he whispered, leaning to take one of his hands on his own, but he barely grasped his fingers before he drew back.

         Another sounding heave had Dain arching forward, pushing out of him an even more graphic gag, his torso nearly folded. Aether turned to look, wanting to ask for the time, but Paimon had been gone for a while now.

         Part of him wanted to just thrust the bucket in Dainsleif's lap, but the other part was waiting for his cue. Desperation seemed to be getting a hold of the man, he could see his abdomen caving along each gag, his balled fist digging a hole in the bed sheets.

         Dainsleif endured one more gag, a harsh wet-sounding one that made his throat ache as if it was going to pop out. His hopes finally shattered when he felt bile bubbling at the end of his tongue, and he raised a hand to his mouth, hovering close to it, but even so afraid to touch it.

         “N-Now, I'm–”, he forced out, words slurring together almost incomprehensible, and he clasped his mouth shut and muffled another gag. “–mmmffff.”

         Aether didn't waste a single second, and quickly turned to the ground, picking up the bucket ready for the occasion. As soon as he passed it to him, Dainsleif gripped it with both hands, letting his mouth fall open as a trickle of dense saliva dripped into it, its consistency oddly close to syrup, maybe even denser.

         An empty retch tore out of his throat, echoing inside the empty bucket, but only more saliva dripped out, the sound of it sharp as it hit the bottom. Dainsleif blinked away the heat spreading through his eyes, he wanted to cry, but all he did was shake his head slightly, feeling as if a set of eyes was putting weight on him.

         “It's okay”, the traveler repeated, gently settling a hand over Dainsleif's bare back, feeling his palm stick to the layer of sweat on his skin. He nearly winced under the touch but didn't try to fall away from it. "I know it's bad now, but you'll get through this.”

         He wanted to protest, but his voice was buried under several layers of shuddering slimy nausea, it just wouldn't come out. His jaw was clenching so harshly it was starting to hurt.

         It was almost endearing how worried the traveler sounded, both of them were ancient beings, witness to unfathomable events, and still, he sounded so scared. It was pathetic to think he had been reduced to a sick shivering mess wrapped in bandages but after centuries, keeping any degree of dignity would be a miracle.

         Aether moved swiftly, getting behind him and gathering his hair away from his face. Despite his short jagged cut, some loose strands had glued themselves to his skin by sweat, and he quickly peeled them off, brushing the pale blonde streaks behind his ears.

         Dainsleif must've been sicker than he thought, he flinched when his hand came to rest on his back again, the dizzying nausea only serving to keep his senses on high alert.

         He trembled, unable to stop himself from gagging again, this time breaking into a weak retch, but no more than runny saliva came up, dripping from his tongue in a steady trickle. Despite not coming up with anything, the motion had his stomach cramping severely, his eyes squeezing as he endured the pain.

         “I'm so sorry… I know I shouldn't have forced you to eat, but…”, the traveler rasped, guilt making his voice break. He tried to soothe him through the cramp, running his hand up and down his back. “I'm sorry…”

         “Y-You, ugh”, Dain struggled to get his words out, his voice came from deep in his throat, loaded with disgust. “D-Don't need to… apologize… mmm, guh”, he gulped harshly, a trickle of saliva dripping into the bucket. “It is my own damn fault for– euRrGH.”

         He couldn't even finish his sentence. An intense, audible yet empty retch had him squeezing his eyes shut as he leaned into the bucket, his belly clenching so severely it left him breathless.

         It was merciless, he could feel each spasm of his inner organs, his stomach cramping as if it was trying to turn itself inside out, squeezing around the little food he had ingested. It wanted out, but it would make him pay dearly for it in the meanwhile.

         “Dain?”, the traveler called, his hand going to his shoulder, trying to be gentle as he held him in place. He was starting to slump forward, his muscles sharp under the skin, winding up. “Don't hold back, okay? Just try to get it up.”

         Although meaningless, he tried to follow his instruction, and held his mouth open, waiting for a sliver of mercy. One by one, gags poured out of him, saliva flowing out of his mouth in abundance, each one wetter than the one before, until he broke into a retch that scraped the bottom of his throat.

         His stomach lurched painfully, finally allowing something of substance to come up, and he gagged once more as an unbearably bitter surge of watery bile coated his tongue, streaming into the bucket without further struggle.

         “There you go, keep going…”, Aether coaxed, oh so carefully patting him on the back.

         Dain gasped as the stream tapered into a trickle, his back arching as in a blink it turned into a sudden violent gush. The sound of it spraying against the wall of the bucket nearly made him flinch, part of it went over, staining the bed sheets in a watered-down yellow. He blinked in surprise, coughing wetly as that murky corrosive fluid made its way out of his nose, it burned like he wouldn't imagine.

         There was already an apology hanging on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't possibly say anything, his stomach didn't give him the chance. It lurched again, slamming against the wall of his abdomen, sending more of its contents up his throat. It was nothing more than liquid, murky off-yellow water laced with small clumps of toast. It formed a small puddle, curdling as it hit the bottom, barely a mouthful of it.

         Dainsleif could taste the mint tea on his tongue, mixed with the water and the characteristic chalky taste of medicine. The onion flavor seemed to overpower all of it, it mixed with the stomach acid to create an unholy smell that refused to clear. He gagged again, unable to block it out, and clumsily spat into the bucket, part of it caught in his chin, but he could do little about the growing mess.

         Dain felt his stomach give in to nausea once more, lunging upwards, and sending more of its liquified contents up his throat. He didn't do much to resist, simply letting his mouth fall open as a short gush of watery vomit poured out of him in gurgling retches.

         “There, there…”, Aether soothed him through the spell, tenderly running a gloved hand up and down his back. “You'll be okay.”

         “I… hope so”, he slurred in response, clumsily spitting into the bucket, a grimace pinching his face in disgust as the bitter taste seemed to sting his tongue anew. ”Ugh… disgusting…”

         Aether chuckled briefly, giving his back a few gentle pats. The man would tower over him normally, but his torso was bent like an arch, leaving them at almost the same height.

         “It's not that bad”, he said with uncertainty, watching his pale sweaty face loom over the bucket, waiting for the threat to be over. “I mean, it's a natural thing…”

         Dain parted his lips as if he was about to say something, but he quickly had to close them, his eyes squeezing shut as he rode out another painful cramp, swallowing audibly as he tried to placate the nausea. Aether felt his back heave under his palm, then stiffen, and his cheeks grew as his mouth filled with more vomit.

         He tried holding it for a moment, against all instructions Aether had given him. It was a natural thing, but it wasn't necessary… if he only could hold a bit of food in his stomach, he would recover faster, he wouldn't have to go through this. But it was useless, his stomach lurched, sending puke further into his esophagus and finally spraying out his nostrils in a sudden motion, bursting through his lips a second later.

         The puke fell all at once into the bucket, coating the walls in a sickening clumpy mixture of what was once tea and toasted bread, it seemed to cling as it stubbornly slid down to join the mess in the bottom. Dain blinked away tears of exhaustion, drool and snot coating his lips, dribbling down in heavy threads.

         “UurgHhH—”, Dain retched painfully, the noise tearing through his throat like razor blades, and more vomit came splashing into the bucket. Then another mouthful of it joined the layer already covering the bottom, pieces of onion covered red spots of the tomato paste. It could've been blood and he wouldn't even notice.

         He let out a struggling moan, breaking off into weak wet coughs as his stomach kept lurching, but nothing else would come up. Aether watched in silence, trying not to flinch every time a cough would sound sharper than it should.

         ”Hey…”, he called softly, leaning in to see his face. Dain had tear tracks running down the uncovered side of his face, and he did his best not to bring attention to it as he brushed a few strands of hair off his face. “Think you're done now?”

         He simply nodded weakly, sniffling as he ran a hand under his nose, making more of a mess than if he had left it alone. Aether got up from the bed and excused himself as he started undoing the soiled covers.

         “Here, let me”, he asked, offering a clean part to wipe his mouth. Dainsleif looked at him questionably but didn't say a thing. Aether added, trying to sound more comforting. “Don't worry, these are going in the wash anyway.”

         “If you say so…”, he rasped, shaking his head, but leaned further as the traveler thoroughly cleaned his mouth and nose.

         “Listen, Dain, now I need to call someone”, he informed in a grave tone. Dain hummed in accordance, blowing his nose in the bed covers, then pulling away from it to give him a glassy-eyed stare.

         “If you… say so”, he repeated, bringing a hand to his mouth as he swallowed the taste of rot. “I wish I could say this would just pass after a rest, but… it won't work a second time.”

         Aether bundled the sheets around the soiled part, holding it over his belly as he shot Dain a sympathetic look.

��        “Do you want some water to settle your stomach first?”, he offered, uncertainty still hanging in his tone. He wasn't surprised when the man shook his head, his hand never leaving his mouth. “Not even to rinse out the taste?”

         “That… that would be good”, he responded weakly, looking at the bucket for a second, then frowning. “Could you take this away? The smell is…”

         “Sure, of course”, Aether took the bucket by the rim with one hand, trying to ignore how its contents sloshed inside. “Do you think you'll need it again?”

         “I hope not”, he mustered a small chuckle, his hand dropping away from his face now that the offending smell was far enough. “I… don't think I have anything else left, but I shouldn't risk it.”

         “I'll be back in a minute with a clean one for you”, the traveler said, trying to sound a little more optimistic, but Dainsleif didn't return the enthusiasm. He couldn't blame him.

         He turned for the door, trying to keep a good grip on the side of the bucket, keeping his steps steady enough not to jostle the contents around and get vomit on his glove.

         When Aether returned, with a rinsed-out bucket and a cup of cold water, there was a new face in the room. Dainsleif had laid back on the bed, his head turned to the guest. A shivering hand resting over his bare stomach, trying to soothe it with slow careful rubs, while Paimon hovered close to him, unsure of what to do.

         “Traveler, 30 minutes have passed!”, she informed him in a tone that shed concern. “Paimon's guessing the medicine didn't work…”

         Aether simply did a no with his head, placing the bucket by the bed, the cup on the nightstand, then sitting at the edge of it.

         “I'll leave you alone for a bit, okay? While I go get the doctor”, he told Dainsleif, running a few fingers over his hand, but he just nodded, eyes fixed somewhere in the ceiling. “Let's go, Paimon.”

         As Aether carefully closed the door behind himself, he couldn't help but bite his lip thinking of how miserable Dainsleif looked. But now what he needed wasn't pity, no, all he needed was someone to take care of him, and Aether was glad it ended up being him.

[vinterhjerte]

meta.   ⟶   elsa & the call of death.

DO NOT REBLOG. find below some rambly thoughts about the siren call and its implications RE: basically being the musical sign of death ie: the Dies Irae.

First of all: what the hell is the dies irae? Anyone who watches enough Sideways videos on youtube will probably recognise it, but for everyone else: 

The Dies Irae is a chant from the 11th century used in the Requiem (Mass for the Dead or Funeral Mass). It has become a musical short hand for death or the dead or just dire situations in general. (It’s been in Star Wars, The Lion King, The Shining, all sorts, you just have to listen out for it). 

Now, why am I talking about a Gregorian chant from the 11th century? Because the voice that calls to Elsa, the tune her mother sings to summon the spirits, is literally the Dies Irae. The musical equivalent of death is calling to Elsa. 

So, what does this mean? I had quite a few ideas and links I could pull and the following will probably be rambling of the highest kind. Links to some things referenced here and here.

A call to death. 

At the climax of the movie, we all know Elsa sacrifices her own life to find the truth and save the forest. This is foreshadowed by the use of the dies irae, a song for the dead. Her own death is calling her forward and she follows it willingly. Bringing in material from the musical, Elsa is very willing to give up her own life for the good of others, should it be necessary. 

The death of Elsa’s old life. 

This could also be read as a mourning for the life Elsa ultimately gives up. Not her physical life, but her role as queen. She hears the call and days later is abdicating. It’s a funeral for the current state of things and its imminent ending.

Calling the spirits and its link to death.

It’s interesting that the movie chooses this to be the melody Iduna sings to summon the spirits - is it because she is surrounded by death and destruction? What link might the spirits have with death? They are immortal, is it a reminder that the humans who interact with them are not?

Impending death of the forest leading to calling to Elsa?

There is also the question of why now? Why is the forest calling out to Elsa now? At first watch of the movie, I wondered if it was some sense that now is when Elsa is ready to accept she isn’t happy, but I actually think it’s completely different. What if the forest is on the verge of death? Yes, it has held together in the mist for over thirty years, but what if something was about to tip the balance and Ahtohallan called out for help?

A sign of Elsa’s necessary death?

Only Elsa hears it because Elsa is the only one who can go into Ahtohallan and so she is the only one who can sacrifice her life. 

There is also the sign of Elsa’s impending death in that she is the only one who can hear the call. Ahtohallan knows there is only one person who can face the cold within the glacier, who could use magic to find the heart of the glacier, use that same magic to make the memories solid, and who could even get close to diving down into the depths to discover the truth. Ahtohallan knows this will cause her death and so reaches out with this sign that it does know and understand what it is asking.

Elsa sings/echos the call and Arendelle is almost destroyed (credit for this idea).

An echo of the dead (Iduna).

There is also the literal idea that this is the echo of the dead, in this case Iduna. Ahtohallan is using the voice of Elsa’s dead mother to draw her in. Elsa doesn’t know this, but the river of memories does. 

Elsa sings the call before they find the ship, the real grave of her parents.

Elsa even inadvertently sings the song for her parents before they find the ship, the place they died, and functionally their grave. (Also, if we want to take this way too far, Olaf, the embodiment of Elsa and Anna’s love for each other, is unable to sing the dies irae, because love cannot die. It’s totally a joke moment in the movie, but death of the author says I��m right and I should say it.)

Mixture of Christian dies irae and Sámi kulning - a sign of Elsa’s mixed heritage?

I know Norway is mainly Lutheran as their flavour of Christianity, and the dies irae is used by Catholics, but the mixture of Christian music in the style of Sámi kulning could be read as a hint to Elsa’s mixed heritage?

The following ideas are taken from/playing off the Howard Ho video on Elsa’s musical journey:

It’s in the style of kulning, a call home but also a sign of danger. 

The Sámi herders use kulning as a way of calling their herds back but also as a warning to each other. What is the siren call but both of those things? Even the song All is Found is basically both a call home and a warning of the danger. 

Attraction to death?

In some way, Elsa seems attracted to death, subtextually (in the movies, in the Broadway show she mentions her own death multiple times). She hardly hesitates, despite hearing the voice of her mother warning her: the truth is more important, other people are more important than her own life. 

End of Show Yourself is the dies irae in major.

The ending of Show Yourself is the same melody but in a major key: Elsa has accepted her destiny, or is about to. She has taken on singing the call, and made it her own. 

“I’m ready to learn” also the dies irae (ready to learn she must die?)

The line “I’m ready to learn” is also the melody of the dies irae - is Elsa ready to learn she must die to save those she loves? She accepts this one she does realise it’s the only option. 

Anyway, well done to anyone who made their way through this. What does it all mean? Well, whatever we want really. But I really do enjoy the amount you can read into this one tiny musical choice. 

[ultimaxell]

Calling All Monsters : Monster AU

Humans, at their core,were utterly oblivious creatures.

This was something that Carson had always known. Humans were, by nature, self absorbed creatures, creatures that relied on the ‘every man for himself’ as a law of nature. They were absorbed in themselves, wholeheartedly selfish, a key trait that had played a large part of monsters, beings of power and fame, going unnoticed for millennia, living among them right under their noses. It wasn’t anything they could help, an inherent flaw in them as a race, but it made things sort of interesting, fascinating to watch unfold, creatures so oblivious they walk straight into a hunter’s trap.

Tonight was the night. Tonight was the night that everything changed, and Carson watched in amusement and a curious fascination as the people filed into one of his many homes, thier bodys shivering from the snows icy touches, winter not yet here but just around the corner, the nip in the air a gentle reminder of it’s presence. He watched as they huddles around each other, the fire, for warmth and smiles, alcohol long since finding it’s way into the hands of needy teens who wished to let loose and rebel just that tiny bit. It was curious that they could not feel what was looming, be it winters turn in just a few weeks, judging by the amount of skin showing, most girls had blatantly ignored the chill, or be it the dark looming shift in the air. Tonight was the night that everything would change, and not a single one of them batted an eye at enter his mountain home.

Could they not feel it? Could they not feel the energy, the touch of the unknown just beyond their realm of sight. Carson felt it like a lover’s hands, the brush of fingertips along his spine, little shivers of pleasure accompanied by a nearly silent purr, deep rumbles in his gut that expressed his pleasure. He could feel change as she brushed feather light lips over the back of his neck, lingering in the air to create a hum of energy under the voices beginning to gather, a spice that he could almost taste on a heavy tongue. It was amazing they could not, all smiles and relaxation as anxiety licked along his spine, his hands gripping the banister so that he might have some hold, his thoughts racing and lifting, slipping past his mind’s fingers  like ribbons of smoke in the cold. He could feel her as if her hand was on his spine, and they felt nothing at all.

It was no wonder they were on the path to extinction. They never noticed anything that wasn’t  told to them.

There were a few exceptions, of course, a few humans Carson had noted that didn’t seem to fit the social norm that humans had created. Those favored few, They were observant, maybe not as  much so as a monster might be but significantly more than a normal human. They Weren't dull, vapid, boring, they were interesting and coy and while they did not recognize him and his brothers for what they were, they had seen past layers carson hadn’t even known were there.

Carson’s gaze flicked back to the growing pond of people at the foot of his stairs, a make shift sort of dancefloor made in the center of his foyer, as he heard the sounds of laughter, screams and enjoyment as the people found all the party favors he had set up, as any true host would. Beer, hard liquor, food by the tons  and endless music and wood to ward off the chill, Carson had left nothing up to chance. The night had settled in, the sun not quite gone but setting, streaking the  sky thousands of colors, lighting up the forest that was surrounded by his family's walls, beautiful, but Carson’s eyes skimmed over it, watching the door intently, with a purpose flashing in dark and light   mismatched eyes.

He breathed in, taking in the music that was pouring from the speakers, the spice of alcohol he had provided creating a slightly sensual and exotic tang in the air, a night for bonfires that burned brightly in the fire pits that had been douge into the  earth in front and behind his house, for secrets, lust and need. This energy was alive, a beating in it’s own right, infecting them all with that slow dreamy sort of haze that burned them, slowly, inch by inch, every moment another blaze and he could feel it....Every lick of need another hit to his veins. Carson wanted to burn, and He wanted to burn slowly.

Every inch of him ached for  it, the layer of need this night had created, and his gaze moved, taking in body after body after body, searching, hoping waiting….

For her.

“Have you seen them Abram? They said they would come, right?” Carson’s voice was low, a purr of unease now in his chest as he searched the people in his home. He allowed his eyes to move, flickering over to his best friend and practical brother.

“Why aren’t they here…. They said they were coming.” his impatience was starting to color his tone. His body tensing as he allowed his anxiety to take over, and he clenched harder at the wood railing, fingers tapping as he foot lifted to tap his toes against the floor, all signs of the ball of nerves that was plaguing him.

He just had to see her….

--------

Honestly, nothing should have been as difficult as opening the front door to this house.

It was just a house. Just like any other…. Alright. Maybe it was a little more extravagant. But wasn’t that even more reason to want to go in?

The sigh that parted her lips was long, exasperated as the others gathered around her. Their words hardly reaching her ears. But she could hear the music already thrumming, hear the low hum of laughter and conversations she was better left out of. The smell of liquor and weed hung thickly in the air, a tell tale sign of a Dhouti party. A party that no one in their right minds would miss. Not when people were clamoring to make the Dhouti boys happy.  Clamoring to get a minute in the lime light, even if that meant just hanging in the shadows beside them. Watching and hovering in the masses that followed after them.

But that wasn’t Requiem. And hell would freeze over before it saw the day of her begging for any Dhouti attention.

So, why was she here?

Right now, she should have been scurrying to rush into the home, into the warmth. Should have been striving to get the icy burn out of the tips of her fingers. She knew that they were pink, knew that her nose and cheeks would match. But she could not find the motivation to press forward and open the door. Instead she stared for a minute, watching the shadows move behind the glass.

“Requiem?”

The voice was soft, pushing in the tone, but it was enough. Enough for the darkling to lift a single eyebrow, grey eyes flicking to the brown haired beauty at her side, those royal violet eyes almost smoldering as they rested on her.

She shouldn’t be throwing attitude to her only companion, the only other person who didn’t seem too interested in being here either. The only other person who had just as much anxiety rolling off her. But still she did. Still, she could feel her nose scrunching up. She could feel her eyes rolling as she flicked those grey eyes back to the door, all pretty stained glass and stained wood.

“Ashlin.”

She knew why, the second the her name passed her lips. She knew that it was only because Ashlin knew. Ashline always knew. She could feel Requiems anxiety just as easily as Ashlin could feel hers. It was a comfort to know she wasn’t the only one. But never the less, there were others with them. Ones who only ever got to see this side of her. Ones who would judge her.

“Are you fucking kidding me Requiem. Open the fucking door you fucking ingrate.”

Those eyes snapped back to the blonde that was all snapping teeth and snarled tone. Her own expression irritated and she moved to cross those arms across her chest and she only looked all the more pissed. It was a second, it couldn’t have been more than that  before Menzy was moving pushing her way through the small crowd of girls, pushing aside the ones who didn’t move.

“Hard of hearing now too, princess?”

Menzy moved, her own fingers pressing down the lock on the door to release it, where the warmth of the house began to flood out. Almost no one noticed, their attention to thwarted by the awe in the house or too engrossed in each other or their drinks too notice. Grey eyes paused on the emeralds that were staring Requiem down, and what did she do? The only thing she could think of to do as an acceptable reply.

She shrugged.

“Jesus.”

And that was it, Menzy moved on, pressing forward and disappearing into the house. IT wasn’t a weird case for her to act this way. The attitude, the pushiness. None of it was out of character for Menzy. But, the word ‘princess’ rarely came out of those lips. Her insults generally pointing at her ‘carelessness’.

“Where’s Ankou?”

“She’s already here. Probably off with Echo, let’s be real.”

“That explains that.”

-------

“Shhh. Shhh,shshshshsh.”

His arm dropped his arm loosely across the shoulders of his taller Alpha, his other arm coming up to cross Carsons chest just to come up to caress the clearly unamused darklings neck, his thumb brushing across the fine jawline. He let his eyes lock onto that multi colored gaze, his own lashes fluttering in an obvious display of his affections.

“I’m here now my love. There is no more need to fret.”

“You literally just walked in… and you already have everybody staring Echo.”

“Let them look. To miss it would be tragic.”

Echo let his eyelashes flutter against, his hand only coming off when Carson put a gentle hand over Echo’s, his fingers prying lightly at the fingertips. He was bothered. Obviously. Something was wrong, the tension in the tall darkling almost spilling off of him in waves.

“What’s wrong Carson? The girlies giving you trouble again? Want me to beat them up for you?”

A small chuckle passed the blonde's lips, his arms dropping to his sides just to find warmth in the depth of his pockets.

He would be lying to say that seeing the expression on Carson’s face didn’t bother him. The only solace he could take was Abram taking his place next to the boy, his own lips quirking slightly as he leaned over the banister that Carson had been on. Blue eyes thrown up towards him, the smile on his lips was sincere but obviously cautious as he smiled up at Carson.

“I’m sure they are coming, Car. You gotta chill a little bit.”

A hand patted Carson’s back in what Echo had to assume was supposed to be some kind of reassuring motion but Echo would never have a clue why.

“Who? Who are we talking about right now?... Damn. All right.”

If looks could kill Echo would be on the floor probably bleeding from the mouth, Abrams face one not to be reckoned with in those seconds. And Echo could only put a hand over his heart, feign baffled by the look. Like it was something easily tossed his way.

In reality, it was something thrown his way too often and too easily. And not from just little baby Abram either. His friends and family seemed to give the “The look’ just as often and just as easily as Abram. But he knew that when it concerned Carson from Abram, he had better clam the fuck up.

-----------

“Read ‘em and weep, boys! That makes three wins, and by rules of best out of five, I win! I’ll be claiming all of your wallets and your dignity now, thank you.”

The smile was apparent, even without seeing Ankou DeAngelis’s expression as she placed her winning hand on the table for the group to see, the men huddled around the table in nothing more than their underwear leaning to take a look at her cards before the low groans of disappointment and irritation began to bubble around her in a full bloomed chorus of manly dejection. Ankou’s grin only widened as she crossed her legs, her hands moving from the smooth feel of her cards to the wood of the table, her bright eyes, flashing poison green, bright but hazy with a  light hint of alcohol. She tapped the table, once, loudly, with one long finger, one brow raising in question as she watched as some of the men started to stand, making gestures and curses like they were just going to leave.

She didn’t allow her smile to falter, her tone all sun and ease and laughter, a hint of something dark, primal, that stopped the men in their tracks.

“Ah, Ah Ah…. I believe you have something of mine. I would hate to have to collect on any of you over a fun little game, simply because you could not keep your word.”

She supposed, given the chance, most of them would have tried to make a  clean getaway. She knew it was on their minds, a thought that rested in the shadows of bad ideas and alcohol brightness shone light in the dark. They stared at her a moment, and Ankou could practically read the ideas flickering through their minds. They all wondered, briefly, for a moment, of their chances of making it out of this with their money if they just ran. I could never be said it was not a thought.

But they knew better then to act on that idea. There were just some things, no matter what pack you hailed from, there were some things and some people you did not touch, did not fuck with, and as it was, Ankou was one of the. It was not wise to cross her, hell, most would have advised stray from even catching the young woman's eyes, vivid green a siren's call that too many had fallen victim to. It wasn’t that Ankou was particularly nasty...Ankou was… friendly, smooth and warm, the kind of girl who smiled and made your day a little brighter. She wasn’t the cold beauty that Ashlin and Abby had, she wasn’t the regal distant princesses that only allowed the gods themselves to part their legs, like Requiem and Perilium. Ankou was…. Summer nights and cinnamon liqueur, the burn of Alcohol and the hum of butterflies in your stomach as your crush wound their hands around your waste. She was sensual burning and slow touches, heated glances and panted breath, all the heat and lust high schoolers seemed to desire. She was the embodiment of your first love,your highschool love and unrequited crush, and that made you want to please her. She was the kind of girl who spurred feelings of desire and heat, and she made you want to try harder, take more.

But Ankou was a wildfire, and as quickly as she could warm you, Ankou could consume you, burn the flesh of your bones and leave you, empty, used up, a shell of who you once were. She showed no mercy, none to those who would cross her path and spike her temper, and it was common knowledge, you did not cheat her of her prizes, for she would use every bit of what she stole from you against you, and bring you to your knees.

“Your wallets, place them on the table before you leave.”

She watched their hesitance with an amused eye, watched them before they sighed and fished their wallets out, eight thumps of distinctive leather on wood before they moved, grabbing their clothes and leaving the room in a huff, her hands already on the leather to place them in the jacket pockets of the jacket she had stolen a week ago, much to large sleeves sliding off as she grinned and laughed at her new fortune.

She pocketed them all, the smile on her face changing slightly as she hummed her contentment.

Now, she really needed to find her girls.

She stood, her spine cracking as she lifted her hands, stretching them out as she yawned, her body stretching as she stood on her tiptoes for a moment, her head lolling slightly to the side before she inhaled, the familiar musk of smoke and sweat and woods filling her, her eyes closing as she allowed her hands to drop. Her heart ract stuttered, her stomach clenching as her thoughts shifted, to his smile, his eyes, the feel of hima against her… she felt that familiar ache, the need thudding through her veins, ands he sucked in breath, trying to calm herself.

First Menzy…. Then she would go look for him.

She had just enough liquid courage for that.

“Oh Menzy~”

Her voice sang, waving through the crowds as she followed the embrasses men and left the room, her eyes flickering over the moving bodies and sensual fire light. She only had to look around twice before she spotted that head of platinum blond hair, her smile returning with even more force than before.

“MENZY!”

That was the only warning the girl got, before Ankou had thrown herself on her, her hands wrapping around her as she pressed her body flush up against her best friend.

“I missed you my love!”

[she-dreams-in-pink]

Heyyy its your Secret Santa here come bearing your gift fic! ^_^ Sorry its so late, I was working on it till the last minute to make it perfect!

Title: “Cosmic Cycle”

Pairing: Endymion/Serenity, UsaMamo

Rating: T

Canon: Manga

Summary: Again and again they were destined to repeat this fate, it was the cruel will of the Cosmos.

–

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, a Silver Kingdom of splendor and valor erupted in flames as the stench of blood draped against the waning gleam of the moon and corpses were strewn all across the battlefield.

Cries and screams of agony and rage could be heard, thinking not of love and peace but only of hate and war, living being against living being.

Chaos.

Amongst those piercing cries none were loudest then that of a Princess shrouded in white, protected by the silver light. But though she was deigned to be blessed by the moon she was innocent, too innocent to bear witness to this. Her sheltered eyes now alight in horror at the violence and brutality that ensued.

“ENDYMION–! ENDYMIONNNN~!!!!”

All she could do was call for him, her lover; the beautiful prince of the beautiful planet, with eyes as blue and deep as the oceans of that faraway realm for which she dreamed, holding within them all the vast knowledge and wonders of the world for which she had been naive to. Protected too was he by the golden light, the hidden depths which gave that blue planet its shine but could not be brought out due to the vessel it occupied. 

Two guardians of their respective stars holding tremendous power they could not wield, she because her fragile heart refused to fight, he because his physical form rendered him incapable to fight.

Two anomalies.

Two would-be guardians.

Moon and Earth.

Silver and Gold.

Was it any wonder they were drawn to one another?

Like two magnets that naturally attract, they were two halves of one whole. It was the Cosmos’s will.

It was also its will that they repeat this same trial again and again, lifetime after lifetime, a cycle that was equal amounts a blessing and a curse.

“Please, stop this bloodshed, hatred and violence will never achieve anything! Open your eyes, don’t you see you’re all being deceived by that demon?!”

“Prince, what are you saying?! Do you intend to betray the Earth?!”

The jealousy consumed sorceress that led the campaign allowed her sword to be brought down, all attempts being made to reason rendered futile as Chaos already overtook her soul. Her target? The one who had stolen her heart’s desire, the defenseless little Moon Princess.

“This is all her fault! DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~!”

“AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“N-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ENDYMIONNNNNNNNNNNNNNN~!”

Her earth-shattering cry shook the battlefield, the fighting ceasing for a brief moment as all eyes turned toward her; In particular the shocked hues of the Prince’s four guardian guardsmen as they looked on in horror at the one whom they swore to protect falling in defeat. They did not understand, was it not the bewitching Lunarians and their accursed crystal that was a danger to their Master? Why then was he struck down by one of their own? Why was the Moon Witch weeping tears of sorrow for his sake?

And weep tears she did! Unable to quell her grief the young princess wept freely on the body of her now dead lover, what cruel fate had bestowed her to this end? Was this their punishment for defying the Gods? If this was to be their destiny then so be it, for once she would take matter into her own hands!

Picking up the currently discarded Holy Moon Sword which her Guardian Venus had momentarily dropped in the heat of battle, she took that which was meant to protect and used it to destroy, specifically herself. Plunging it into her stomach she whispered a silent prayer to herself whilst doing so, a requiem for a fallen Princess.

“Endymion! I love you! You are my first love. And the only love for me is you! Even if we were reborn I know that I would meet you again! I know that again, we would fall in love! We shall transcend time and be reborn. And the two of us… This time for sure… will be happy… Endymion….”

It was done, blood seeped from her gut onto her lily white dress; innocence marred and tainted. Around her echoed the cries of her guardian soldiers, each devastated and heart-broken as they watched their beloved Princess succumb to her grief, helpless to stop it.

Was this to be their legacy?

No one’s scream of agony was louder than that of Venus their leader, for it was her sword that pierced that that flesh, her that had allowed her charge to meet with Endymion secretly in the first place, her that failed. She paid for her crime by being the first to strike down her ex-lover Kunzite, and he her, this was her penance.

Around the fallen pair the battle continued to rage on as each Senshi and Shittenou eventually struck down the other until there was no one from either side left standing. Death, decay and ruin permeated the previously beautiful shining moon, only destruction now lay in its wake.

Eventually the only sound that could be heard was that of the drop of a glaive, the signal of the end of an era and a ushering in of a new one. Death and Rebirth.

Silence ensued.

This was the 484th time.

–

Space-Time Gate

–

The SolitaryGuardian of Time, Sailor Pluto looked on from her post as she watched the events entangle before her, her facial features betraying none of the feelings she felt stir within her heart; calm and stoic as ever, she could afford to be nothing else for one whose duty lay with allowing history to pass rather than to prevent or change it.

While time would forever be flowing and changing she would forever remain the same, solid like a rock, always watching, never changing. Only ever allowing herself to be carried to whatever point in time she needed to be in in order to keep it flowing smoothly.

It was a lonely existence always watching from afar, forever knowing of every possible past and future in existence from all timelines and dimensions. Nothing ever phased her because nothing could ever surprise her, she had knowledge of all.

“Perhaps that’s a very lonely thing in and of itself,” she mused quietly to herself. Even so, try as she might she still couldn’t stop the niggling deep within her chest, that burning desire to be there with her fellow Senshi fighting alongside them helping to protect their precious Princess, trying to change history for the better! She longed to feel that sweet anticipation of an unknown outcome, not knowing what is to come but praying, hoping for the best; no longer bound by the laws of time and space, just by normal living instinct.

Such was not to be however, and it was foolish for the daughter of Chronos to ever entertain such notions.

Still, she couldn’t help feel that slight pang to her soul whenever she witnessed this particular event unfold, though it was not the first time she had witnessed the fall and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last. Perhaps she wasn’t as impenetrable as she thought, she could never get used to this.

A strong gust of wind began blowing from behind her, the indication of an intruder. Eyes closed, expression still as un-moving and un-affected as ever Pluto didn’t even bother to turn around to face her surprise visitor, for like always it was never truly a surprise.

“It is done then?” She phrased the question in a way that wasn’t really a question.

“Yes, the glaive has dropped. A new era will now begin anew in all timelines as it always has.” The voice came from a bright ray of purple light, another Sailor Suited Senshi manifesting from its depths, In her left arm she held a glaive, a sharp contrast to the rather non-threatening staff that her comrade held.

“One has to wonder then for what purpose this visit is for, Saturn.” The guardian of Time remarked in an almost teasing like manner, her expression still utterly unreadable.

“What? Is it now a taboo for old friends to visit one another? Ah, but then I always was the uninvited guest.” The Senshi of Ruin replied sardonically, a hint of a smirk adorning her alabaster features.

“Something tells me you didn’t come just for a social call…”

“You know me well, then again what do you not know Pluto?”

“Touche,” she retorted back, unable to help the slight mirth of a chuckle that escaped past her rouge lips. “Though I think you know quite a lot yourself, is that not the reason you’ve come here today Saturn?”

All traces of amusement now left the Guardian of Death’s face, her expression now stone cold as her eyes darkened whilst she walked over to Pluto’s side, watching along with her the open gate to time.

“You were looking into the timelines again… Tell me Pluto, what did you see?” Though she was also staring into that same, deep nebulous warp of time, it would not open and show her images like it did Pluto. Even with her supposed title of “most powerful and dangerous Senshi in the solar system” there were some things even she was not privy to, most notably time which was not under her jurisdiction.

Pluto sighed, there was no use hiding anything from this perceptive little firefly was there?

“Serenity and Endymion… It seems their souls transcend even the concepts time and space. They will be reborn many times over throughout history, throughout timelines, even dimensions! Always they will be drawn together yet not always will their fate be kind. More often then not it will be cruel, one or both will meet an untimely death just after finding the other, or they will be cursed, or their personalities and souls are so twisted and warped beyond compare that it will darken and poison their love. In most of these realities they will never recover their memories or gain access to their powers, they will forever wander throughout these existences lost and alone, as if there’s a hole in their heart and something is missing, forever disconnected from the world that they live.”

Saturn nodded slowly, frowning. “But you should know already this is how it always goes Pluto… Do we not always go through this?”

“I know, I know! Its just… I can’t stand feeling so helpless! Knowing all this, yet knowing I am unable to do a thing about it! I can’t protect them, can’t prevent this cruelty…” Her voice trembled, she was trying desperately not to lose face to remain the ever strong and unmoving overseer of time that she was meant to be. Sometimes it was just so hard though, always having to suppress emotions, pretend like nothing ever affected her while going through this exact heart-wrenching scenario over and over again in a never-ending loop! Her precious Prince and Princess were out there suffering, the Princess she had sworn an undying vow of oath to, who represented all the hope and light and goodness of this universe! The Prince whose lavender hues mesmerized and captivated her, who stole her heart with his gentle healing warmth and endless intelligence which seemed to encapsulate the universe! The Prince who she had always loved from afar but long accepted that they could never be, still it never bothered her as long as she knew he was somewhere out there happy with his true other, half but to know there were lifetimes out there where even that could not be; he could change so irrevocably and yet still go through so much pain….

“There’s no changing the strings of fate, as Senshi our destiny is to go through a never-ending cycle of living, fighting, then dying. Wash, rinse and repeat. And those with the two most powerful Sailor Crystals in our galaxy, our Princess and Prince must endure even greater trials than those of us “regular” Senshi. We are all but unwilling pawns in this great game that the Cosmos calls life, cogs that do nothing but help run the universe and sustain its balance. Yet what’s the alternative, endless nothingness? Silence? I’d rather keep existing and fighting through the pain just to experience those precious few moments of joy and peace than not know anything all. Is that not what our Princess chose?”

Yes, Saturn’s right.  No matter how much it hurts its better than there being nothing at all. This is our fate and we must embrace it with grace and dignity, standing tall and proud like the soldiers we are, we live for all life in this universe after-all, not just ourselves. Its what the Cauldron determined.

“Right as always, perhaps you should have the one to be born with the Pluto Crystal and I the Saturn Crystal. I always did get the feeling the Cauldron made a bit of a mix-up when it came to us.” The green-haired guardian joked lightly, finally allowing a glimmer of a smile to grace her normally stoic face.

“Please, you’d be much too soft-hearted for this job. Try as you may be to remain the ever solemn and untouchable guardian of time you’re a big softy underneath that cold exterior. I’d say the Cauldron made the right call in that department.” 

The tension having been dissipated with the light joking and banter, Saturn’s slightly sarcastic smile softened into a more gentle one as she spoke more words of knowledge.

“Do not fret Pluto, though the Prince and Princess might face many hardships in their many lives spanning time, there is at least one timeline where they will truly find each other again and be able to find some measure of happiness. I’m sure you already know which one this is?” Oh she knew all right, it was of course a timeline that was still fraught with hardship and battles, that would end with them eventually going all back to the Cauldron to repeat this same cycle over again, but it was also a timeline filled with love and joy, the happiest they could ever be. A timeline where their Princess would start her new life out as a bubbly and spastic blond-haired dumpling head and their Prince a secluded and aloof orphan but as fate would of course have it, they would find each other again and not only would it be the only timeline where they could finally be happy together, but also the one in which they would finally be able to awaken and reach the full potential of their powers.

It was also the only time in which she and Saturn would finally no longer be alone and become part of a family, where all the Outers could fight alongside their Princess instead of just watching and protecting from afar, never making themselves known.

The Cosmos could be cruel but it could also be kind.

“It looks like its starting right now in-fact…” Pluto smirked as she looked into the Time gate, watching through one of the warps the play-by-play of a certain odango-headed princess throwing her rather abysmal scored test straight into the face of her would-be prince. Bickering ensued as it always would in this dimension but there was not a thing about it Pluto even wished to change.

Noticing the gentle and doting smile on her comrade’s countenance as she stared into the Time Gate, Saturn surmised that her job here was done and it was time to now be going.

“I should take my leave then, its almost time for me to go back into stasis after all. I shall see you again in the future soon Pluto when it is yet again time for my re-awakening, or should I say Setsuna-mama?” Againwas the teasing tone and slightly playful smirk, this time though it would be fully returned in kind.

“Likewise, Hotaru-chan, like-wise.”

Flashes of purple light appeared from the sky yet again as Saturn began to rise up to return from where she came but not before leaving a few more parting words of wisdom to the guardian of time. 

“Always remember Pluto with despair comes hope, with darkness, light. With Chaos, Peace. The Universe needs both the good and the bad in order to sustain itself and keep its balance, it cannot survive on one alone because And experiencing both is what ultimately makes life worth living, we as Senshi are meant to understand that better than any other living creature. Because ultimately? Good and Evil are simply two sides of the same coin, when one ends another begins, without either we may not have any endings but then we wouldn’t be able to experience beginnings either. It is as I’ve always said, with death always comes—” “Rebirth.” Pluto finished for her, a true smile playing on her face. Yes she knew those words well alright and now it was time for her to learn to internalize the lesson found within them as well instead of just wishing for what could have been.

And with that one parting word Saturn knew that she had taught her well, with naught but a slightly sad yet hopeful smile Saturn departed, ascending to the heavens as if she was an angel of life rather than the grim reaper of death.

Perhaps that’s what she truly was.

I suppose the Cosmos isn’t such a cruel mistress after all.

–

Center of the Milky Way, The Galaxy Cauldron

–

Guardian Cosmos looked on as the annual cycling in and out of the planets and stars from the cauldron began yet again. Among them were the two most precious stars of this Solar System that held the greatest potential for life, Moon and Earth.

Two halves that made up one whole, it was originally supposed to be born as one whole Sailor Crystal that was to be the center of life in Sagittarius Zero yet the power proved to be too great for the Cauldron to contain and so she had no choice but to split the Crystal in two, making two whole new stars that were destined to always satellite around each other. They were powerful on their own, but only by coming together would they be able to reach their full potential and restore true balance to this galaxy.

However as was the nature of a Sailor Crystal with such awe-inspiring potential, its annual cycling in and out of the Cauldron when it came together finally whole and complete but then would have to be split apart and sent out anew again proved to be rather difficult, so much so that it was getting to the point where it was even beginning to overwhelm the creator of life and existence herself!

“I  suppose I really overestimated myself in the formation of this star huh? Its power is threatening to overwhelm even me!” She giggled softly, but then a rather melancholic and sorrowful look dawned upon the guardian spirit’s face.

“Forgive me for the hardships you’ll face little star, I’m afraid you won’t always be able to be whole in all realities, that’s just how your power works. I know it hurts to be split but please try to endure it, if any star can its definitely you, its how I made you after all… Believe me it hurts me too, it hurts me whenever my precious children suffer so.”

Around her star seeds began blossoming, as if crying out, begging to be sent out and begin life anew as to whatever organism they would be born as on whatever star they would be sent to. The birthing cycle was soon drawing to a close, it was finally time to send them through the canal.

“Yes, yes I hear you all, don’t worry. Just need to send your parent stars out first so you’ll all have a place to live.  Don’t worry, I’ll get to you.”

With that she released all the Sailor Crystals from the Cauldron, one by one they began filling outer space each birthing one new star, aestroid or planet after another until the pitch-black void of nothingness and darkness was once again filled and sparkling to the brim with life!

Guardian Cosmos watched from the depths of her cauldron, pleased with her work. The birthing experience was always like a work of art to her and Outer Space was her canvas. Now it was time to release her last and greatest work into the vast reaches of space.

“Goodbye little Star Of Hope, please try not to hurt too much this time around. Hopefully you’ll be able to find each other and come together in some time!”

Bestowing upon it one last hopeful little smile, she sent it out into space to join its many siblings. The fabric of time was formed yet again, the very foundation of life itself beginning anew.

“And so a new cycle begins.”

Owari

[reginrokkr]

𝐂𝐋𝐗𝐈. Following the series of AQs in which Dain participates, this post will conclude with Caribert before the next quest comes in a few months.

✧ I remember talking vaguely about this detail, but just as it'll happen later in a different thing, it's hard to believe that Dain doesn't have some manner of sentience even if in a subconscious level that he has no explanation for. This case being that, among the first things he does upon arriving to the place he remembers vaguely that something happened, he outright inspects the small field where Chlothar used to grow the mushrooms he needed for the potion. And in the present, that same place is where his own corpse and his lover's were buried.

✦ ◜My memories are quite foggy, but my subconscious and instincts both assert that something once happened here.◞

As I was saying— joke's on me I completely forgot about this, so I really was on to something. That aside, I think this opens many doors for him in terms of sentience of things that... not even he experienced. As what Aether witnesses after his sleep was Lumine's memories while Dain was doing something else elsewhere, while still somehow nearby. It does make me wonder if his soul, perhaps untainted by the curse and the corruption (ironically I already portrayed him like this, but seeing more solid things in canon that to some extent make it plausible overjoys me), has somehow an omniscience by itself or it's being pushed towards that direction by something else. A possibility for this would be Irminsul answering directly to Dain's concerns / thoughts and beckoning him in that direction so he discovers it by himself. Whichever the case may be, both are highly interesting and which I already implemented in my portrayal in what concerns his sentience. Overall, it's quite interesting that he insists that something happened in the house even though he didn't experience said something himself.

✧ In view of what we learn about Chlothar's waning body as a result of the curse, I find Paimon's comments about Dain's great senses (smell and hearing) despite his age (in addition to being in a great physical-shape too and be able to pull those moves in a more hostile environment down to being able to press on even when handling great pain that is immobilizing) to be like little crumbs to be alert about Dain's difference when compared to someone dealing with the same curse as him, yet having declined significantly more in just about a hundred years in comparison to the five hundred years Dain lived so far. This is a detail I didn't realize myself back when the AQ was released.

✦ This is a small crumb compared with the huge lore bombs this AQ brought, but I adore how compassionate and mindful Dain is when seeing Lumine crying when she woke up and that he'd decide to let her alone to recompose herself in case she'd feel ashamed if he were to stay instead. Combined the fact that he's the kind of watching over his traveling partner's sleep while he stays wide awake. Now, following the line of Dain's sentience— the direction he takes to continue his investigation is none other than the way Caribert takes by the end of the quest before the scene of the cliff and Lumine passing out.

✧ ◜As far as I'm concerned, humans who do not worship The Seven are nigh extinct... and all who place faith in the gods are my enemies.◞

Considering how little it must've been since the cataclysm broke out, it's very curious how very few Khaenri'ahns made it to Chlothar's days before he encountered the Sinner and quite saddening to think about, how many of them might've turned into monsters of the Abyss, started to have some extent of belief in them even if it's just to be forgiven due to the horrible curse cast upon them or potentially passed away by even worse means, specially if we remember how scared people were of even going past the gates to Sumeru's underground due to the amount of monsters they must've encountered on their way.

✦ ◜It's said that this medicine is imbued with the power of Sumeru's God of Wisdom, and can awaken the mind from a state of deep stupor... It has been used in the past to treat cases of mania. [...] I read it in a book from the Royal Library of Khaenri'ah. It was banned, since this medicine requires the power of The Seven to work. [...] I was leafing through some forbidden texts and happened upon it.◞

Another point worth mentioning, seeing how Khaenri'ah had knowledge of the gods and banned said knowledge from the general public. Chances are that there were two separate libraries and that the Royal Library was of limited access or had a restricted place that at the very least the nobles knew of its existence.

✧ ◜The gods of this world have never stood with humanity... Not even for a moment!◞

I don't have much to comment about this myself as there might be information in the future to shed light upon this, but I think it deserves its recognition for now to keep in mind in the future in case it isn't just some widely-spread belief in Khaenri'ah about the gods and that the founders really discovered something about the gods that made them think this, and that it actually has some weight to it.

✦ ◜There is a waterfall near the statue I prayed at. I need you to collect some water from there around two in the afternoon.◞

Following the line of thought from earlier about the banner knowledge, this detail about that potion is too specific to ignore and a good reason to wonder how far and wide Khaenri'ah's knowledge about the other nations extended. There is no doubt that those who came from other nations also contributed with this net of wisdom, but it's worth remembering that some Khaenri'ahns were also acting as spies both in Enkanomiya and Sumeru. It wouldn't be far-fetched to think that they did this in other nations too.

✧ ◜Halt, humans. Fate has not granted you the right to enter this place... [...] Very well. Then I grant you the trial of destiny.◞

Not much to say about this, except that I have a feeling that it'll become more relevant in the future too. The quest's name while in the sanctuary where the Fortune Lector is found is "A lamenter at fate's end" and the subtitle of this abyssal being is "secret keeper of fate's end". Not to mention that what it was guarding was... the final place where Lumine and Chlothar encounter the Sinner. Furthermore, based on the CN wording and the Caribert AQ description in CN too point towards the Sinner being the same "self-proclaimed prophet / someone who understands fate well" that narrates Dain's description. So there are high chances that the Sinner and Caribert becoming the Loom of Fate are closely related, and most likely than not the Sinner is the one who did something about Caribert's sanity.

✦ Chlothar's suspicious fascination for the Fortune Lector might be a good example of how amazed part of the Khaenri'ah civilization was by the power of the Abyss, as despite how poisonous it is for every living being, he would describe it as a beautiful power. It speaks great volumes of how deep the obsessions were in those who had them.

✧ ◜...O, dear creature, why do you bow down? For fear of the unknown? Or for a power that you covet? O, dear creature, why do you bow down? For I am no God... I am but a "Sinner". You are like a flower born in sin yet pure, spotless... I know your fate well. You need no longer hold back your resentment, nor accept the countless lies. Go forth, become a transcendent one, rise beyond the fate bestowed upon you... And I shall shed a tear at the end of time... as I gaze back upon your life.◞

For some reason, I have the feeling that these words were meant for Chlothar as besides the hilichurls, he was the only one bowing down and not Lumine. And that the male realized that she also heard him and that's where he stayed silent. The reason why this wouldn't apply to the hilichurls too is because the word choice for addressing to someone in singular. Which leads me to wonder if one of the requirements of being a pure-blood Khaenri'ahn like Chlothar is to "be like a flower born in sin yet pure, spotless". This reminds me heavily of the inteyvats given that against all odds, they would still bloom in conditions that are incompatible with life. It's also highly curious that it is possible to be above a fate that's been bestowed and that Chlothar might've been able to make it, which would explain why in the end his corpse could be found buried in the field.

✦ Seeing that abyssal energy coming from behind Caribert's mask fills me with intrigue, and it reminds me of how well-tied the AQs Dain is involved in are. We don't even need to go too far and just think about Requiem of the Echoing Depths and when the matter of hilichurls not taking off their masks so they won't see what they turned into from being humans was addressed, and the follow-up this had in Caribert now. Maybe Caribert is a special case himself due to the Sinner resonating with Chlothar for reasons unknown, or maybe it's something that could happen to other hilichurls as well, I'm unsure. It would be great to learn more about this one day and I'm positive we will in following AQs where Dain comes back.

✧ ◜I never imagined that you, of all people, would deny the Abyss... How ridiculous! We once believed that you would bring new strength and hope to Khaenri'ah. To us, you were the Abyss... A wondrous mystery far beyond our imagination and comprehension... And the one who controls the Abyss can control everything! We yearned for that future. We looked to you to take us there. But what did you bring us instead? O Princess... of Khaenri'ah?◞

This here is a heavy point of irony and re-reading Chlothar's words reminds me once again of Dain's claim of hypocrisy. How Khaenri'ah went from denying the gods to worship someone else like they were one, all because of the devotion they held for the Abyss. It's also intriguing the thought that things weren't going well in Khaenri'ah by the time Lumine arrived, probably tied with the fall of King Irmin and perhaps due to more factors that we don't know about yet.

✦ Lastly, it's interesting the thought that Dain does have his own suspicions about the identity of the Sinner and that there are high chances that he knows that the Sinner is a "he" even though he didn't hear his voice and that Aether might have not said that it sounded like a male voice either. Also the fact that despite being a memory and that somehow Aether was able to see what Lumine went through in those brief days, that the Sinner knows about him through this alone.

[jelanisaeed]

Kiiwani Ocean Magic

Western Philos gained great acclaim for its three rivers of legend. Mythical hotspots enriched by the magic of the great deity, kiinbi of the vast oceans. They who swept their magical oar to calm the raging tides during a duel with an ancient monster. And the oar became the symbol of change in Western Philos and fueled their many technological advancements. Many even claimed the great Liege of the Seas—Makuha—as the patron kiinbi of change.

Citizens of Masitunda City counted themselves blessed to have a scared river flowing through their land. The Wibaya River, named after Makuha’s oldest warrior daughter, enriched their lives with its beauty. The largest river of the trio possessed powerful currents that left room for only the strongest of marine life.

Today, however, was an exception. Under the bliss of a full moon, the currents calmed. The perfect time for Qamar to arrive. The riverbed began along the outskirts of the city along a forbidden trail. Holy grounds, the signs dubbed it, fit for no mere strangers. Citizens of Masitunda seldom trekked this far for their river. A far cry from the treatment it receives in ancient times.

Qamar was well versed on the legends and tales. Of the warrior women who emerged from the sea clad in seashell armor to protect Philos. Or of how Makuha’s grand oar sculptured the Great Philosian Rivers.

There was one legend, however, he invested his time in. The tale of ancient tribes who made offerings in Makuha’s name for a better life. That tale he yearned to be true.

Qamar sat in the fertile grass, clad in only his pajamas and slides. The moon shone silver rays across his carob skin, illuminating the streams of tears running from his bloodshot cerulean eyes. A beauty marred by the silent tears of a young boy. He decided it only fitting. Beauty hid the ugly within.

Beautiful night. Beautiful family. Qamar took pride in his love for those around him. Through the good and bad, he made it his business to be a protective person. One who dug deep into his reservoir and unleashed tidal waves upon those who wronged him and those he loved. But when loved ones have wronged him, how could he summon that might?

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth. Qamar replayed the words through his mind for the umpteenth time tonight. With each recall, the venom strengthened and tainted his reservoir. And without its life, he couldn’t prevent the tear flow anymore.

“Stupid dad,” Qamar scowled and wiped his puffy eyes. A wasted effort he knew, but he tried nonetheless. “Why do you always say the wrong things?”

Wrong. Qamar saw that word throughout his life. In moments of confusion, he labeled even himself with that word. Wrong. Everything was wrong. Conversations. Emotions. Feelings…

Even actions were subjected to this. Qamar knew running away to the outskirts of the city in the dead of night was wrong. A painful and rebellious act he’d regret come the morning. “Maybe I don’t want to. To live in regrets anymore,” he sighed and ran a hand through his short dreads. The sun never assisted him with his thoughts. Only incinerated his pain and left its ashes to build in his mind. “Maybe the moon will give me insight?”

But the moon stayed silent. Qamar counted himself lucky it’s luminous embraced him with the suitable company. A shoulder for his tears, but not a solution to his fears. Though he preferred this to the controlling, manipulative nature of the sun.

I guess Daddy learned it from somewhere, he scowled.

Words once unleashed from the demonic gates ransacked the mindscapes of those involved. Until bloodshed laced with emotional turmoil. Qamar did his best to safeguard his mind—act as the sentry to hateful demons. And he was strong enough to admit he failed. His proud armor worse for wear, but his memories remained intact.

A perfect vehicle to assess the damages.

Qamar sighed. Maybe damage control wasn’t the best course of action. With fresh pain, he avoided it and toyed with his necklace. An assortment of iridescent pearls with a charm hanging off the front. A seal, he smiled. With a single touch, the pearls glistened in cyan light. The same shade as his soul-stone.

Mommy, Qamar sighed. The light of necklace drew in water molecules in the air, forming floating rings of water around him. But he ignored them and looked to the moon. I miss you.

Moments of vulnerability made him thank the kiinbies for his necklace. Its gentle radiance spoke to his mind and washed away at the pain. With the pearls, Qamar gained great insight. And within the confines of his mind, he found a caged lion. Unnatural and ill-conceived.

Must be how Daddy sees me, Qamar frowned and flicked his wrist. The rings dissipated, and the pearl’s soothing glow faded. It felt as those his father couldn’t let him in his heart. Why else would he make such painful statements laced in viruses?

Qamar sighed and leaned back into the grass. Perhaps wallowing wouldn’t produce the best results. If that were the case, then Qamar knew what to do. He kicked off his slides and slipped his feet into the water. And the water that splashed into the air became his to control.

With ease, his soul-stone reactivated, engulfing his hands in shifting cyan light. His hands moved with the grace of a symphony conductor, dragging the water into a dance beyond measure. Laughter filled the night. To his surprise, it was his own. In mere moments, his body moved on its own and the water followed its command, taking shape before his eyes.

At times, he lost himself in his magic and his body moved on its own. It worried him not when the water became a seal to brush noses with. Or, after an elaborate display of acrobatics, how the seal dissolved back into the river.

The river. Its whimsical essence whispered a lulling requiem, mending the mind the spirit. It’s pounding intensity masked by hues of blue light dancing through the mind. The river lived a grand life. Housed the souls of mythical beings. Created the path for rebirth and change.

Qamar found himself entranced, edging closer to the edge of the river. All he heard was that voice, whispering him encouragement. Reminded him of a task he knew not of but resonated in his heart. And his soul-stone responded. A cyan light shimmered against his hand moments before he stuck it inside the water.

Ripples emerged amongst the surface. Bubbles materialized from water molecules in the air. Waterlilies bloomed in the moonlight and illuminated the night. Marine life in the river’s depths sang a melody for his soul-stone. Magic, beyond his will, surged through his fingertips. Seconds was all it took for Qamar’s eyes to shine in the cyan light.

The land possessed empires and communities timing with life and adventures. A concrete world intertwined with nature down to its simplest concept. But the river was different. Through his mind, Qamar swam through its depths. Battered by currents and conversed by marine life. River communities were one of motion. Servants of life who moved to support their supposed roles in life.

{Life uprooted by years of abuse and war.} Qamar flinched, darting to find the source. {Life beyond the surface, mingling in depths. A hidden society of nomadic communities.}

Qamar floated before a reflection of himself. But that’s where their similarities faded. His reflection stood tall, chest puffed and back arched. This Qamar was draped in a black wetsuit tangled with green seaweed and armored by iridescent seashells. His cerulean eyes shined despite his heavy brows and eluded the force of twenty maelstroms. The tips of his black dreads were dyed blue while seashells intertwined with every inch of his hair. And he finished the look with a headband of linked, cyan seals across his forehead.

This Reflection-Qamar stood as a warrior.

Qamar stood as a lost child.

{The ocean is alive, you know.} Reflection-Qamar continued with a thin smile. He lifted a gloved hand and water molecules shifted into bubbles. {An organism filled with beauty. Always giving but taken for granted. Humans must acknowledge this toxic cycle. And no longer inject into their own.}

Reflection-Qamar snapped his fingers. The currents churned and screeched as magical energy surged around them. Qamar only watched in horror as dead bodies floated amongst them. Corpses decayed not from natural causes, but from toxins and acids. Human-made and magical.

{Your soul-stone has descended from great warriors who have defended the seas in the name of Lord Makuha. Are ready to accept your destiny as Kiiwani of Depths?}

Qamar froze. Thoughts marathoned through his mind, but one forced him to flinch away. “I-I’m no warrior,” his voice quivered with each word until his bones tensed. “I’m nothing of use to this. I’m…”

Wrong, Qamar hugged himself and rubbed the chills traveling through his muscles. That word he didn’t have the courage to speak into existence. I’m wrong. Unnatural. Nothing about me will ever be right. I can’t be a warrior for Makuha. I can’t!

Something rough pressed against his shoulders and Qamar flinched. His cerulean eyes peered up and locked onto his doppelgänger’s soft gaze. {Your will possesses more strength than you realize.} Reflection-Qamar’s rough hold softened as they massaged his shoulders. {Tsunamis halt at your will. Whirlpools form to your thoughts.} Reflection-Qamar smiled and performed an act that gave Qamar pause.

He kissed his forehead.

A single, soft, brotherly kiss that crumpled the dam. A tidal wave cascaded through his body, easing the tension and weathering the bile forming in his throat. The force of the ocean’s wisdom purged his body of ill-wills and left him hydrated and restored. And, in its wake, a flower bloomed in his mind.

A single waterlily.

{You will never be alone again.}

Qamar blinked. He found himself back on the surface with his hand yanked free from the river’s hold. Reflection-Qamar’s words echoed through his mind as he flexed his fingers. Never alone, huh? He smiled and took another look at the riverbed.

“I think I need a swim.”

With the night sky as his backdrop, he stripped out of his clothes and jumped into the river. He dived deeper than many could handle as his soul-stone filtered fresh air through his body. Alone beneath the waves. Qamar smiled as his soul-stone emitted cyan light from his eyes and illuminated his view.

Reflection-Qamar was right. He wasn’t alone. Schools of fish swam passed him with nary a care, chatting amongst themselves. Underwater creatures with iridescent scales scurried through, snarling in a show of dominance. Even the plants provided comfort with their soft sways.

Life prevailed below the river. An unchanging essence that sprouted flowers upon flowers.

Flowers I must protect, Qamar smiled and pressed his heads against his chest. A steady pulse of magic engulfed his body and oozed through his pores, basking in him a cyan glow. Regardless of right and wrong, I must fight. Fight for the ocean, their life…myself.

Water pressure condensed around him, locking his limbs together. Qamar embraced the strange sensation and, with confidence, spoke his mind.

“Kiiwani Ocean Magic!!”

…

Cerulean eyes fluttered open. A lone figure emerged from a giant oyster shell projected above the river by a waterspout. His dreads adorned with pearly iridescent seashells with the ends dyed blue. His black wetsuit was decked in pearly iridescent seashell armor that glistened under the moonlight. He gazed below him and found his reflection beaming back with pride.

He leaped from his platform and landed firmly on the surface of the river.

His oyster shell dissipated into bubbles while his waterspout faded away.

“Liege of the Seas. Kiinbi of Change hear my call,” He crossed his gauntlets, and, in a burst of cyan light, weapons took form. In his right, he wielded a long, silver spear while his left held a giant, silver seashell-shield. “Makuha’s warrior. Kiiwani of Oceans and Depth.”

He stepped forward and magic surged through the river. In mere moments, waterlilies were in full-bloom and emitted vibrant rays of cyan light. And the light reflected off the seal-charmed, pearl necklace he wore.

“Loch—your divine warrior has awakened ready to serve you, my liege.” 

[mauriciowan-blog]

Don't get caught at the crossroads at night. Do go there to hitch a ride. Don't go there to pick guitar. Even the Anishinaabe knew, from Mississippi to the Yazoo, you ain't got no business at the crossroads. Ain’t no good deals in this sundown town, every brother and his mother frown, but you sure as hell don't get caught with something to sell at the crossroads at night.

Elmore is at the crossroads.

It’s a bug eaten, fetid night, smelling of rain and rot and the squalor of mud. It chirps and croaks and echos with the hambone rhythm of skeeter killing. It ain’t his first choice, or his last choice, or any choice at all. Elmore had no choice but the crossroads, so there he sits long into the night that swallowed him, black and whole.

He knew the hoodoo of the place. The bandit dead and suicides interred beneath its furrows. The vain hope that they would not rise again, vengeful. A place without peace or freedom. Ghoulish rules for crossing--a hopscotch east-west, crossed heart north-south. Every child knew it, knew the peril of heedlessness, knew there was nothing worse than the junction in the dark midnight.

Elmore knows too. His granddaddy’s pocket watch was open in his hand. Every few moments, he strikes a match so he can read it. Little boy past the XI, big boy creeping up the left side. He means for the matches to spark every ten minutes, so as he can save some for later, but he ain't got the patience for it.

He sits on his haunches, the guitar box pressing into his back, a borrowed shirt soaked through with the hot press of the Delta in August. When he ain't striking matches, he finger draws circles in the dirt, counts up and backwards from ten, hopes that he can wait more than a full minute before striking the next one.

In the sulfur light of a dying match head, the big boy had crept past IX. It flickers and dances in the panting breaths of Elmore's anticipation before wisping into invisible death. Burnt wood smell. He'd begged off ten dollars from everyone he knew, everyone brave enough to talk to him, but hardly got two bits. Wasn't near enough to leave town, let alone on the Greyhound. He shivers in spite himself.

When he ain’t scared or burning fingertips, Elmore composes lyrics. Twang bang, he'd had a bad day. Something something, no place to stay. The man said something something, it ain't no lie. What he wouldn't give for that out of town ride.

He plots chords with fevered precision. Some of the best inspiration he'd done have in his whole life. Even finds himself time to wax poetical about an old lady he never had. A blues lady.

Lord knows he has the lady blues. Looked at one the wrong way, now he feared the noose.

X the watch says. The fat hand was closing in on its apex. Any time now. He shifts his feet, cracking the old patent leather dogs he took off his cousin. Ain't had time to ask. Elmore hopes for forgiveness. The watch ticks. He thinks about praying, slaps the back of his neck, itches all over. The nightjars sing requiems and threats.

Time moves slower here, Elmore thinks. He didn't know about elsewhere, but he know enough about here to know that time don’t work right. Don’t work in a brother's favor. Time had marched on, they said at the rally.

"They must not have gotten the memo here," the keynote speaker declared, "Because we have been free for some time now."

They all clapped. Elmore had clapped. It was aspirational, affirmational. Wish, desire, the projection of promise and pure fantasy fulfillment. He'd wanted to believe it.

He spends his last match seeing the minute off past the XI. It’s close enough. He swings his guitar into his lap, stands, starts tuning it. It twangs under the duress of a tin slide. Anyone might hear it. The birds and bugs and bullfrogs go quiet.

"Ain't no sunshine where I gone. The sun has set long way down. Chased out worse than a hell hound. Gots to get me out of this town."

Elmore's voice is deep and proud and it thrums through the weft and weal of the dense fabric of night. The guitar squeals in pleasure as he strums, the crickets and whippoorwills and toads sing backup.

"Saw me a woman, ain't she neat, now the hangman’s snatching my feet."

Elmore thinks on kings like Johnson and Lockwood and Willie Brown, dreaming of places they'd never dare wanted to be.

"Oh the preacherman he says I'm free, but the big man won't let me be, steal the music of my heart, says I best be gone by dark."

The dark ain’t just dark no more. Elmore can see shadows moving. Willows bowing, reed grass shaking, the gators and crocks doing their wiggle and roll. Despite the clear skies above, a storm gale takes the night, shakes the trees like the rattle of a soup spoon up a washboard. It smells of old eggs.

"Oh Moses let me be free, don't let these devils come for me, my daddy's done seen enough already, don't need the lash of ole Black Betty."

At the edge of his vision, Elmore can see him. Shirtless, shoeless, tattered overalls. Old Scratch, listening, nodding his head along. Not all ears are deaf to his prayers.

"Oh they comin' on nightmare steeds, gonna do their dirty deeds, I ain't want it go this way, but I gots the blues today."

'Twas like Elmore opened a fissure in the earth, scooped his way through criminals and the forsaken and dug deep into his very soul. The heat is oppressive. The heat is liberating. He melts into a new sense of himself as his fingers plucked bloody their calloused tips.

"The preacherman tell me to pray, but ain't no angels coming today. Ain't left me nothing to sing, nothing but this soul I bring."

Elmore riffs and rages. He sings clear into the night. More than just cicadas and crickets sing with him. There’s a chorus of something else, older and with multitudes. Something legion in its depths. Old Scratch moves forward. Eyes like fire. Eyes that burn like truth where no hope lies.

"Oh they ain't opening gates for me, just gonna let me swing in the tree, I ain't done nothing wrong, ain't got nothing but this song."

He steps forward into the center of the crosswalk. Elmore can swear there was a million of him. A million million of him and a million more, an audience bigger than even been seen, an audience older than time. One that would last an eternity, so long as his pain is real. He knows just staying here is like saying yes. He knows he hadn't even ask a favor, or been given an option. He'd just been taken in, by bad luck and worse friends.

"So it comes to this, they gonna take my bliss, and devil break me all my bones if the devil don't take me home."

Old Scratch is near him now. Breathing close. There is a stillness in the hot breath. He feels it pass through him like a fever dream. When it breaks, he’s in cold sweat. The wind died down. The birds went to sleep. The frogs ate the bugs and dug into the mud. A coal smell hangs in the air.

Two lights appear in the distance. Elmore keeps playing the same chords, but he ain't singing now. He hears the sputtering of an engine and the clopping of horses marching down the road. They'd done looked all over town, rousted all the negroes, and know him gone. They also know he ain’t got far. They’re a coming. Swing low, sweet chariot, he wants to sing. Carry me home. But the band of white angels shining bright in the hooded darkness--coming after him--have nothing but clubs and rope and fire. And the only thing swinging was gonna be he.

"Oh my old lady she weeps for me, she weeps just like a willow tree, hear me devil now I might cry, curse the men who gon’ cause me die."

Elmore had grown up learning the chorus of angels. He'd heard about their choirs, the way they could sing happy the live long day. Oh how he wanted to sing, when the saints go marching in. But he'd had plenty of song all his life, and it wasn't praise. It was pain. It was suffering. It was a bad end.

He can’t help that now. Heaven willing, well, at least the other side willing, he can still sing. Sing down below like an earthquake that swallows men whole. They'd put a song in his heart, and it wouldn't end with his last breath. Old Scratch had seen to that.

They ain’t far off now. It’s past time to pray. There’s no peace to be had. But if this was freedom, hell can’t be worse.

[reginrokkr]

𝐂𝐗𝐂𝐕. Caribert's actions to make Dain lose the eye of the first Field Tiller in order to reach faster to the phase of near-completion of the Loom of Fate made him lose the upper hand he had over the Abyss Order in their Loom of Fate operation, it's nothing short of a big blow when keeping in mind how dangerous their actions can be for the entire world— even more so now that they can actively weave new Ley Lines. No matter if they cannot replace the already existing ones or serve as a continuation of them, they can cause damage hard to discern in its totality and the notion that the highest visible figure of the Abyss Order doesn't know what to do with the Loom of Fate now that it's completed makes the situation even more worrisome. In addition and from a more personal perspective, it's also akin to being one step behind in his own quest to foil his brother's plans regardless if this is the manner of vengeance he's taking towards him or not.

But despite all of the complicated feelings this brings to him —mainly in the form of a temporary defeat—, he doesn't hold any grudge towards Caribert. When learning about the truth more in detail (which he probably would on his own if Lumine didn't spill the beans for him already, or if Caribert didn't sent him a message similarly as he did to the villagers of Vimara Village), one of the feelings he would have is of guilt due to the fact that a great part of his suffering was indirectly caused by his own brother, so there is a degree of responsibility there that he can only alleviate by not feeling bitter about him. If it weren't for Vedrfolnir inspiration so that Chlothar founded the Abyss Order and to pass Abyssal power on his own son, perhaps the suffering he had until then wouldn't be nearly as dramatic as it ended up being— leading to his own death as a necessity to put in motion the Loom of Fate.

Furthermore, it is not out of following with the Abyss Order's plans that he wanted to do all of this, but out of a two-sided plan both selfish and selfless. For all the care Dain has for the hilichurls as proven in 「Requiem of the Echoing Depths」 and his own desire to let those people (people, yes, because they used to be) meet their end / live their lives as they've chosen under these new circumstances, he would find Caribert's desire to pass down that tranquility he felt when his father told him a bedtime story noble and kind of him, perhaps he would even be grateful of soothing the hilichurls in a way that Dain would never be able. About the other side of the plan that may be deemed more selfish —described that same way by Caribert himself—, he wouldn't blame him for wanting to know what it'd feel like if he had a chance at life to begin with.

In conclusion, Dain doesn't have hard feelings on Caribert. His actions led to a blow on his own progress against the Abyss Order and by extension against his own brother which adds a complicated taste to his mouth, but if there is something that describes him is that he doesn't victimize himself as the Abyss Order does nor he allows himself to drown in his own misery. He's one step back now and with something less as a weapon against the Abyss Order, but he will raise again and keep going as he did for the last hundreds of years.

[reginrokkr]

𝐂𝐋𝐈. Coming up next is the last part of the trilogy of posts of Requiem of the Echoing Depths, a very emotional quest in too many levels to describe. To check the previous parts, you can go here: ✦ ✧

✦ After their brief encounters, there is no doubt that Halfdan, within what little self-awareness he must've left (and even with that little Dain would say it's a miracle), recognized Dain and wanted to help with his investigation to have a clearer understanding of what's been boiling down in the Nameless City by showing him a bigger hilichurl campo. However, since yesterday when I paused at this point of the quest it occurred to me that there could be another option —which isn't inconciliable with the former and can coexist with it perfectly fine— and it is the fact that he wanted to seize this opportunity he had of seeing his captain once again after so much time to show him the result of his work.

Thinking about what will come to pass later when Halfdan chastizes himself for failing to follow Dain's words and the latter telling him that he's proud of what he and the other men did, I think it carries another layer of meaning that even if some hilichurls have already passed and Halfdan wanted to honor their death by bringing something to them that is reminiscent of home (a bouquet of Inteyvats), he did everything he could and in seeing this alongside understanding that the Black Serpent Knights were protecting the hilichurls all this time, Dain was prompted to give recognition for his hard work so he could pass away in peace.

✧ ◜Trying to remove it [the curse] by force will achieve nothing but inflict further suffering. So you are clear in your mind. You have to tell yourself: They are no longer human. If you cling to false hope and allow yourself to become too emotionally invested, the only way is down... You will end up just like them, mired in hypocrisy. Save your strength for something worth saving.◞

For some reason, similarly as when he talked about the curse and said that no one understands it like he does, this once again feels like out of experience. Firstly as if he had to convince himself that neither the hilichurls or those who are part of the Abyss Order are no longer humans and that this could be easily a reason to lose sight of what's important, which for one is that the Abyss Order seeks to destroy all the nations under the Seven and the people with it. This alongside another matter I'll touch later is a clear expression of hypocrisy in bringing ruin to other innocent ones like many of Khaenri'ah were. And secondly, about Lumine as the one who went down this path out of her sense of guilt for being unable to do anything when the destruction at the hands of the gods happened (I won't expand more on this as it'll have its moment in Caribert).

Lastly, while his last line may sound harsh and as if implying that for example the hilichurls aren't worth saving, I don't think he says it out of malice. But because 500 years after, they have already established their lives, got used to this new way of living in their own tribes down to choosing how they want to meet their end. It's not that they aren't worth saving as much as choosing for them when most likely they have already chosen. And this can apply to the Black Serpent Knights too, who still choose to protect the hilichurls as is, no matter the form they take— they're still the people they once protected in Khaenri'ah (looking at it in retrospective, it reminds me a bit of Nahida's second story quest and the lack of importance the shape one takes has). This will be touched again a bit later.

✦ One of the things I adore about Dain and that it's seen so rarely is that he doesn't mind following his own path without Aether and that actually, he could do all these things he does on his own. As painful as it might be, because as he states in Shenhe's miscellany, he doesn't relish the solitary life he has and even he knows the heartache of the Adepti which includes the poison of solitude.

✧ [...] ◜The Abyss' actions here directly dishonor he final wishes of Halfdan and my other compatriots. I cannot allow this to proceed.◞

This here is one of the reasons of weight why I always differentiate between the deeds of those who are obsessed (Abyss Order-aligned even before the Cataclysm) and those who highly likely wouldn't want to take part in any of this, before and now. In what concerns this part of the story specifically, and the second reason why the Abyss Order has fallen into hypocrisy is for deciding on other's behalf in a similar fashion as the Heavenly Principles do with everyone that is under them (so far sans the sovereigns, as Neuvi claims that he's unaffected) through the fate system.

✦ ◜Am I too late...? Must they also be in agony as they meet their end?◞

I can't describe how heartbreaking it must've been to Dain to think that he's late to save his people... again, after being unable to do anything for anyone back when the destruction of Khaenri'ah happened. As for the second line as per in CN (thank you to the lovely @jueying for telling me about this), it has so much strength that he says that they're in agony because he can feel it— in that moment, he was in agony too. As he kept saying one time after another before this scene, cleansing the curse by force would only bring more suffering and this is where the Abyss Order fails x2: not only in deciding for the hilichurls and Black Serpent Knights, but for making them suffer (and who knows if they made plans to stay away from that place so that they wouldn't be affected by this if its influence is only in that area as I think it is, which would make it worse as it would seem like they're using those who are around as experiments to see if later they can use it on themselves or not).

✧ Lastly but not any less important, Halfdan's sacrifice to protect the hilichurls, his other compatriots Black Serpent Knights who he's been working hand in hand to protect them, Dain and his act of kindness to honor their deaths. It's touching to see that Dain's recognition and vocalized pride on him and the rest of the Black Serpent Knights made Halfdan happy, maybe a tad embarrassed too as Dain is still his superior.

And his question, if Khaenri'ah didn't fall since Dain is still there. I think that this has a double interpretation: in a literal sense or a more metaphysical one, alluding that since Dain is still there, the spirit of Khaenri'ah didn't fall into complete oblivion nor fell completely. Personally, I like the thought that Khaenri'ah lives through Dain as Halfdan would imply if this is exactly what he meant, which once again clashes with the Abyss Order's ways even though a significant part of them must be of Khaenri'ah, too. Whatever values Khaenri'ah had that have nothing to do with these obsessions, Irmin and Gold's deeds are carried by Dain.

There is also the notion that Dain lied to him if what Halfdan meant is the former interpretation to make him feel better, which might be questionably less or more noble of him to do and I'm keeping that in mind. However the case, I think that even if Halfdan meant the first interpretation, souls are said to still have sentience even in the "afterlife" as implied in Tsurumi Island. And that they have the capacity to visit people in their dreams. So whatever the interpretation of Halfdan's question may be, one way or another there are chances that he knew what was happening before his sacrifice or after, as it seems that his soul was released from the darkness of his physical body, corroded by the curse and the Abyss separately yet intimately connected with one another.

✦ Bonus: ◜More than one kind of strange power exists here. Souls are no strange sight under such circumstances. Still, if you intend to venture deeper in and continue your investigation, you ought to be careful.◞

Dain, mr. Sir. Just how is your sentience in order to feel the Abyss and the sapphire nail despite how much deeper underground and farther than the Nameless City's location was? And this comes from the perspective that he was never in the Chasm before.

✧ Bonus #2: ◜"Vacation"? Huh, the very notion. This word has no business being in my vocabulary.◞

[danafeelingsick]

ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ 1/2

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

NON-KINK BLOGS AND MINORS DNI

[SPOILERS] Takes place after Chapter II: Act IV of the Archon quest – Requiem of the Echoing Depths, where Dainsleif is found by Aether and Paimon still in the chasm, weakened and injured, and at the verge of collapsing.

ᴀᴏ3

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ coughing, implied fainting, blood, mentions of violence, vomiting, motion sickness, exhaustion, descriptions of wounds, wound cleaning/wound patching, fever

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ 4.1k~

Author's note: i've decided to put these back here, i hope no one minds. now this fic, i wrote it rather quickly, because the whump of that mission was prime material for me. the way he screams, the way he coughs, the way he undermines his pain ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭✧ i couldn't let it pass. but with the requests i have in line, i forgot to post this. so here it is, i really need to use dain more for emeto. nothing like a strong man crushed down.

         Somehow, Dainsleif had heard him. But perhaps it was already too late.

         It could have been the strain on his voice, the shuddering breaths he could barely suppress, or the soft hisses that would leave his mouth as he spoke. But no longer he could hide the struggle it was to stay afoot.

         Aether saw through the stern look behind his masquerade, even as he continued talking, hoping to deter his attention. As soon as that weakened cough left him, there was a mutual understanding of how far he had gone. But Aether didn't dare to say it yet.

         The man turned to leave, to roam once more, and Aether saw his shoulders quiver, his unsteady steps threatening to miss the fragmented terrain. He remarked, once more, about the traveler's lack of a choice, then and there, and hoped he would've made his decision by the next time they met.

         Had he known it would be this soon? Of course not.

         The traveler ventured farther into the chasm, tending to his already long list of commissions, unable to take Dainsleif's strained husky voice out of his mind. He tried to focus on the task, but no sooner than a few hours of exploration later, he found him.

         Or at least, Paimon had found him, pointing out a man clad in black and blue, carrying the night sky on his flowing cape, bracing the cave's wall as his struggling breaths filled the ominous silence.

         “Dain!”, she zoomed towards him, the traveler right behind, his heart heavy trying to slow him down. “Dain, what's wrong? Weren't you going to rest? What are you still doing here?”, she questioned, her voice shrill with desperation.

         Aether couldn't speak, his eyes kept roving over Dainsleif's weakened form, looking for something, anything that screamed for immediate attention, and how to act. Something that justified how someone took as powerful as he had been reduced to a cowering shivering mess.

         A faint smell of acid permeated the air, giving Aether pause as he thought of so many types of poison that could be coursing through his bloodstream.

         He looked at him, at the beads of cold sweat rolling down his forehead, sticking the pale blonde strands of hair to his skin, the smear of off-white foam on his lips, his chest rising and falling with shallow encompassed breaths.

         Then he spotted the thin trickle of pale bile running down the front of his clothes, and the dark red sprouting from his side, almost imperceptible under the dark fabric, even more in the shadowy depths of the chasm.

         “You are hurt”, Aether mumbled, feeling the frigid panic gripping his chest as he kneeled beside him, his hands drifting towards the oozing wound.

         “I was… attacked”, Dainsleif rasped, shifting as he tried to sit upright, wincing when newfound pain coursed through his body, his vision blinking out of existence for a second that lasted for too long. “By an abyss… mage.”

         “Don't move”, Aether practically ordered as he went to steady Dain, holding his shoulders parallel to the cave's wall, there to catch him if he blinked again. “Where is it now?”

         Dainsleif groaned at first, briefly closing his eyes as he motioned towards somewhere behind the two, where a pile of white twigs laid as if marking a grave.

         “I was able to defeat it”, he informed, holding a fist over his mouth as he coughed harshly into it, wincing at the twisting pain shooting through his abdomen. “But it still… managed to wound me.”

         The scowl on his face denounced shame, allowing such a lowly creature to hurt him, to catch him at his weakest. But Aether had nothing but sympathy in his gaze, or perhaps it was just pity. Dainsleif looked away from the traveler's golden eyes, eyeing the floating fairy on his way to gaze at the ground, a small huff leaving his mouth.

         “Be careful in your exploration. There could still be more of them… lurking”, he offered the advice as a send-off, shaking his head as noted the stubbornness of his tone.

         Aether frowned at his words, his eyebrows furrowing as he gazed at the wound, feeling the sickly salty stench of fresh blood stinging his nostrils.

         “Dainsleif, can you walk? Just a few steps?” he questioned, followed by sounds of him rummaging through trinkets and supplies as he sought something. “I can take you somewhere safe.”

         The wounded man merely shrugged, watching as the traveler settled what looked like a ceramic teapot on the ground. This had to be some sort of joke, he thought, feeling his arms slipping under his and swiftly lifting him off the ground.

         Dain let out a shuddering gasp of surprise as Aether hauled his arm over his shoulder, forcing his form into a vertical one and stretching his torso in the process, sending blood leaking out of the laceration on his side. He moaned in pain, unable to contain the sounds within him, and Aether froze under him.

         He was shivering so much it was hurting, his muscles tensing each time a cold breeze seemed to come from under his skin. The sudden motion sprouted uncomfortable dizziness just above his eyes, blurring his vision for a couple of moments, he struggled to make out his feet right under him.

         “Hold on. You too, Paimon”, Aether said, taking one careful step forward, focusing his mind on envisioning stony peaks and dusk skies.

         Dainsleif felt a warm breeze pass by him, but the comfort it brought was fleeting, as the current started swirling in front of him. It felt like he was falling, then he was floating, and then he was back at the ground again, with Aether looming over him, supporting his weight as he went limp.

         Had he fainted? He barely blinked and now, he was on his hands and knees, groaning as dizziness came in numbing waves over his head, piling on until he could barely see what was below him, the heat from his face making his vision wave.

         Paimon's voice was sounding off somewhere, but the meaning of her run-on sentences was lost behind the wall of white noise enveloping his head.

         Mercifully enough, he barely felt it when vomit gushed out of him, splattering onto the grass with a heavy almost sharp sound. He only noticed the added taste, unbearably sour and almost rotten, renewing the previous coat of acid once there.

         He could barely breathe around the heartburn, his mouth hanging open as dense saliva and vomit drizzled out, thoroughly soaking the blades of grass.

         His queasy stomach wobbled inside, sending nausea rippling across his esophagus, and rushing to his head. His brain seemed to be swimming inside, he felt so sick and disoriented it wouldn't command his mouth to close, leaving him pathetically drooling.

         “I've got you”, he heard Aether say just above him, feeling his slender fingers gathering the strands of hair glued to his face by sweat and grime. “Just try to breathe, okay?”

         And he tried, but his efforts were swiftly cut by a larger denser wave of puke adding to the steaming pile between his hands. He felt it lazily slide off his tongue as he gagged, spitting out what felt like a mush laced with wet cotton clogging his throat.

         Dainsleif coughed harshly, trying to clear his throat of the scorching acid, each involuntary motion sprouting pain on his side as if the wound was being pried open and dug into.

         The heavy sense of nausea crept back in the same pace it cleared away, momentarily leaving him panting, aware enough to see the puddle of a pale paste of digested stomach contents in between his hands. Blades of grass cut through the puddle, making him think in detail about porridge and how it tasted.

         He had to suppress another gag.

         “Dain? Can you hear me?” he could, but answering required energy he couldn't spare now, so he hummed. “We should go inside, think you can stand up?”

         Truly, he thought he couldn't, but he still forced himself back on his knees, the traveler lifting him with little effort as he did so. The motion sent his stomach flipping on its side, reminding him of the acute taste of vomit on his mouth, it was impossible to ignore.

         “Oh, what a mess…”, he heard Paimon mumble to herself as she hovered close to them.

         “I didn't mean to…”, Dainsleif tried to justify, the words pouring out of him slurred before he could consider them.

         “It's fine”, the traveler stitched himself in between the two, before any had the chance to protest. “It happens. Hah, for some reason, a lot of people get motion sick coming in and out of the teapot. I think it's something you just get used to.” 

         Teapot? He thought he misheard him, but apparently, they were in some type of inner world inside an artifact. Not exactly something novel for him, given how long he had existed, and how far he had traveled. But now, Dainsleif couldn't trust his senses entirely, so he reserved his critical thinking in exchange for brief astonishment.

         “W-Where…?”, Dain rasped as he took in his surroundings, blinking away the greyish tendrils lingering in the corners of his vision.

         He was standing in the middle of a floating island, with bright green grass under his boots, and stone peaks surrounding them, its roots obscured amidst clouds. Were they even in Teyvat still? There was a large construction a few steps from them, a mixture of architectures combined with surprising harmony.

         “It's a teapot realm, adeptal energy”, the traveler scrambled to explain, he must've noticed the confusion in his tone. “Ah, Tubby can explain it better than me.”

         Dainsleif weakly shook his head, he didn't have it in him to withstand the lecture, he had to muster all of his energy into not falling to his knees right then and there. But he didn't have to endure it for long.

         The traveler was moving quickly, taking in the direction of the large house, then through the door, and swiftly through the hallways. Dainsleif couldn't even participate in the impromptu tour, the pain was too much for him to register his surroundings, his head felt hollow with a phantom lingering within its walls. He could still taste something foul in his mouth.

         With his help, Dain settled on a soft mattress, feeling it sink under him as it invited his weary centuries-old body for a rest. He took deep careful breaths, trying to ignore the room that seemed to be spinning before his eyes, and that horrible rancid smell clinging to his nostrils.

         “Dain…?” He heard the familiar sounds of Paimon's cape wobbling as she hovered close by, and cracked an eye open to see her face of concern relax if only a little. “Oh, phew, you're awake… Uh, how are you feeling?”

         Truly, Dainsleif didn't have an answer for it. He felt, well… as if he was dying. But that was impossible, and he knew it.

         The burning sensation of that hellish device had all but faded, leaving a ghostly cold hollow feeling in its place. Yet still lingered on the tips of his fingers, weighing on his chest, making him feel as if he had been boiled from the inside and now left to rot.

         And the taste kept coming back to his mouth in waves, washing over his tongue, building up to a pool of dense saliva that he had to swallow whenever he felt it dribble down the side of his lips.

         Dainsleif let out a hum of discussion, letting his head fall to the other side as he hoped this would deter the little one from questioning him further. Yet, she simply watched him, eyes wide with concern while she still awaited an answer.

         “Paimon, can you go pick some fresh mint leaves for us?”, Aether asked calmly, settling a few supplies on the foot of the bed and sitting on a stool by the side of it.

         “Of course. Paimon will be right back!”, she exclaimed, disappearing into thin air and leaving star-shaped particles where her little form used to be.

         Aether let out a small sigh as he found himself alone, Dainsleif shuddering breaths and stifling coughs filling the momentaneous silence. He reached out with a hesitant hand, more like an invite.

         “Will you let me see your wounds?”, he asked, his eyes already glued to it as he saw the thick line of coagulated blood move along with his breathing.

         “As if I have a choice…”, he hummed, humorless, starting to undo the straps holding his cape, letting the shimmering fabric spread across the white sheets. “I can tell you won't let me rest.”

         “I will once I've cleaned and patched that”, Aether responded with a tone of sincerity, turning to his pile of supplies and prepping a cloth along with a small vile of a clean solution, the smell of alcohol gently drifting off it as he popped it open.

         “And the mint leaves? Some home remedy?”, Dainsleif inquired without taking his eyes off the meticulous lines that held his suit together.

         “Oh, that was just in case you wanted mint tea later. It helps a lot with nausea if you can keep it down”, Aether chuckled, sorting out the few of his medical supplies as he waited. 

         Dain hummed in response, carefully removing one sleeve of his suit, yet still holding the other as a way to obscure that side of his torso. He let the torn fabric drape onto the bed, exposing the extent of his wounds.

         Aether couldn't help the soft hiss that left his lips as his eyes landed on the deep gash on the side of his torso. It looked raw like something sharp had rocketed past him, taking a piece with it.

         The blood had already dried around it, forming a nasty layer of caked dust and a sheen of rust over his skin. The surrounding flesh had an unnatural purple and red hue spreading close to the laceration as if it had been frostbitten.

         Aether tried to hide his surprise as he approached the area with a cloth, dabbling more alcohol onto it before he gently pressed it against his skin.

         Dainsleif winced at the cool touch, pain prickling across his skin, but he stayed fairly still, sucking in greedy breaths through his teeth every time it moved.

         “I'm sorry. I know it hurts”, Aether murmured under him, trying to be the most gentle he could as he carefully removed the blood clots.

         “It's… bearable”, Dain responded, clenching his eyes shut as each movement sent a horrifying numbness to his whole body.

         None of the two believed him. Not when Dainsleif seemed to be growing paler by the second, his face drenched in a cold sweat, trailing down his neck and chest. True to his words, he believes the pain would become bearable the more he endured it, but it only added to the growing numbing nausea making his throat feel like it was being squeezed. 

         He kept swallowing repeatedly, his adam's apple overtaxed with so many travels. He pressed his lips and clenched his teeth, trying to fight the urge to curl over himself. He felt sick to his stomach.

         Aether kept a close eye on him, unsure if he would have to leap to catch him any time soon. He retrieved the cloth as he finished the cleanup, seeing the dark smudges and red stains lining the once white fabric, and he folded it, storing it away. It would do, for now, he noted, seeing that the laceration wasn't as deep as he thought, and it had stopped bleeding on its own.

         “I'm sorry… I've dealt with pain better in the past”, Dainsleif remarked as embarrassment ate at his face, something he thought he couldn't feel anymore after half a millennia. He didn't dare to look Aether in the eyes.

         “It's okay. You know you don't have to be strong all the time”, Aether said sincerely, a small sympathetic smile forming on his lips. “There are no enemies here, no abyss order. It's just a place to gather friends and enjoy some peace and quiet. It feels like it's not even part of Teyvat sometimes.”

         Dainsleif could see what he meant, but he certainly couldn't feel it. The very reason he was sitting there, enjoying said peace and quiet were because he had let himself relax, let his guard down in such a dangerous place, in the core of the dirt infested with terrors.

         And that was why that accursed cryo mage had ambushed him, and why he had been a second too slow as to let that icicle perforate him. That was why that abyssal creature had managed to rip a piece of his torso off.

         Aether took a roll of gauze and secured it around Dain's waist, excusing himself as he laced an arm around him and passed the fabric. His hand fell from the coat, letting it drape from his shoulder as Aether fit his inside, completing a turn and tightening it slightly. To hold it in place, he put a few pieces of tape at the end. 

         “There, all done. You should still see a doctor, though. This might take a bit to fully heal”, he told.

         Dain hadn't said a word in so long, Aether was starting to think he had fallen asleep while seated. He came to notice the muscles of his neck were tense and apparent under his pale skin, and he was shivering still, a slight blush to his forehead and cheeks.

         Aether took the medical kit and went to store it away, never taking his eyes off the man clinging to the edge of the bed. He watched as he shifted slightly, his eyes fluttering open, one hand hovering weakly close to his neck.

         “T-Traveler…”, he rasped, swallowing what sounded far denser than just saliva. Aether stopped in his tracks as he heard his voice bordering on a whimper, heavy with nausea. “I don't feel… well.”

         Aether rushed to his side only to find out his warning had come in several moments too late.

         Dainsleif jolted forward with a weak retch that sent pale vomit cascading out of his mouth, landing on the carpeted floor with an almost soft sound. If he hadn't spoken, Aether wouldn't have noticed given how muffled the sound was.

         The man hurriedly tried to placate the stream with his hand, but all it did was coat it in a sickening off-colored slurry, leaving it dripping on his pants. He panted, wide-eyed staring at the mess he couldn't contain, then at the traveler who looked just as shocked.

         “Oh, no…”, Aether mumbled, taken aback by the suddenness of the situation. He would be impressed if he wasn't stunned, the sheer quantity of vomit Dain had produced in the space of an hour was starting to worry him.

         He looked around, searching for any container he could grab, spotting a trash can in the corner of the room, he made a beeline for it.

         Dainsleif had already leaned forward, barely able to turn his head from his lap before more vomit rushed out of him, landing between his legs with a disgusting now heavy splatter. He gripped the edge of the bed so tightly his knuckles were white, harsh coughs rattling his pale frame as he struggled through the spell.

         The soiled hand kept drifting towards the wound on his side, hovering over it but afraid to touch it, his fingers arching into claws. With each contraction of his body, as his stomach squeezed itself empty, the pain would sprout from the laceration, sending a numbing shiver that spread across his torso in surging waves, like electricity coursing under his skin.

He let out sharp coughs that rattled his lungs. It stung as if shards of glass were being driven into his innards, perforating his chest every time it expanded.

         As soon as he caught a small break he sucked in greedy gasps, hissing in between his teeth as it felt like a pike had been shoved through his side.

         A container came sliding onto his lap, and he clung to it for dear life, promptly purging his stomach contents over the crumpled papers within.

         It felt like he wouldn't be able to stop now that it started all over again, feeling that repulsive now off-yellow mush pouring out of his mouth, making his mouth taste utterly revolting. His stomach seemed to be squeezing itself harder now, tapping at the bright stomach acid mixed with the food he had eaten before.

         When was the last time he ate? And what was it? He could barely remember, as the mushy texture and the faint smell of fermentation got washed over by the sour stench of fresh stomach acid. The attempts to call back any taste except rotten bile only resulted in making him gag, burying his head further into the bin as more puke splashed inside.

         He couldn't look at the traveler. His face burned with shame and fever, coated in a sheen of cold sweat and a mixture of sickness and saliva hanging off his nostrils in dense ropes. But he knew he was there, keeping the bin firm in his lap as his hand rubbed timid circles on his bare skin, heat rolling off him.

         The spells grew thin and more sparse, resulting in only a few trickles of bile dribbling off his tongue as nausea started to die down. His stomach throbbed under his skin like a sore wound, quivering inside each time he breathed. He could only pant as the expel sapped his remaining energy.

         “Dain?”, the traveler called, again and again, one hand going to cup his cheek, drifting towards his neck then leaping to his forehead. A soft hiss left his mouth as the heat prickled his palm. “Goodness… you're burning up.”

         “...guh, ughh”, he responded by gagging weakly, unable to come up with anything as his belly lay empty and achy. “I apologize… for the mess. I couldn't… gh–”, he groaned pitifully, his throat raw bringing the faint taste of salt to his tongue.

         “Hey, shush… it's okay. You don't need to apologize. You've been through a lot today”, Aether hurried to comfort him, feeling his heart sink when he heard the strain on his voice. “Did any of it get on you? Do you need to change?”

         Dainsleif just shook his head, slightly unsure of how to respond to it, he could still feel the slimy coat of cold vomit on his hand, some spurts of it drying in his pants, staining his shoes.

         “I don't… think so”, he rasped, extending the soiled hand for Aether to envelop in a clean cloth.

         Carefully, he picked up the now-offending bin and put it by the side of the bed, trying to ignore how much heavier it was now, the vomit sloshing inside, the rustling of wet papers, and the strong stench of sickness permeating the room.

         “Listen… I'll have to call someone to take a look at you. Are you okay with that?”, he asked as he sat back down, helping him put on his torn suit once again, leaving it unbuttoned.

         “There's no need… It'll heal in no time”, Dainsleif protested as Aether ran the clean side of cloth under his nose and mouth, thoroughly cleaning the smears of vomit on his face.

         “I'm not talking about that cut anymore. Well, that too, but I mean the fever, nausea… in the best-case scenario, you caught an infection from it. Worst, well…”, he frowned. “Their plan worked.”

         Dainsleif felt his stomach cower, closing his eyes again and shaking his head. “It's impossible”, he stated firmly.

         “I know, but still. We should be sure”, Aether insisted. “I could call someone from Mondstadt. You've been there, they know– I mean, they've seen you.”

         “Traveler, I'd rather”, Dain started, but cut himself off, taking a deep breath instead. “Could you at least wait… for me to rest first? If the fever doesn't wear off...”

         “Oh, alright”, he begrudgingly accepted, at least slightly relieved that he finally had decided to hear him. “But if you get any hotter, I'll call them immediately.”

         “Do what you want”, Dain huffed, coming off harsher than he anticipated, but he was already sliding himself under the covers, muffling his worries under soft blankets.

         “Would you… like me to stay?”, he asked, almost in a whisper.

         The traveler wasn't showing any signs of leaving in the first place, denying him a rest free from his watchful eyes, but maybe that was what Dainsleif needed now. Someone to watch over him. “I don't mind.”

         Aether let out a small chuckle as he scooted his stool a little closer, crossing his legs as he prepared for the long stay, conjuring one of the many books he received as a gift during his travels.

         “Get better soon, Dain.”