#and like the innermost drives and features of our very soul

[littlemut]

𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖋 ℑ KILL 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖍𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖘?? 🔨🔨

[genshin-impact-updates]

Developer Insight #4: Character Stories (I) - "Vigilant Yaksha" Xiao (Part I)

Greetings, Travelers!

It's been almost five whole months since Genshin Impact went live, and the time seems to have flown by! We do hope you're all enjoying a smooth journey through Teyvat. Since the game's release, we have received a great deal of feedback and suggestions from Travelers and we've systematically recorded each one for the developers. We deeply appreciate all the time, energy, and passion everyone puts in to these suggestions.

In the midst of this, many of you have expressed an interest in learning more about how some of Genshin Impact's characters are created. As it happens, one character who has received an especially high amount of attention is Xiao, who has now entered the live game with the release of Version 1.3, "All That Glitters." So, for this issue, we've invited colleagues from the Creative Concept & Writing, Concept Art, and Animation departments to explain a bit about the thought process behind everyone's favorite Vigilant Yaksha.

1. The Vigilant Yaksha Is Born: A Character Woven From Cultural Symbolism

Hello everyone, my name is Zhongyuan from the Creative Concept & Writing department of miHoYo.

The first part of the process when designing characters for Genshin Impact is to pin down who the character is at their core. In this step, we need to establish the features that set this character apart from other characters. Besides ensuring that this character will make a strong impression on people, these features are used to evaluate what this character's position in the world of Genshin Impact will be. Characters are not just lumps of rock that we can place anywhere we want in the environment; they are autonomous individuals, each one with a complex set of past, present, and future interactions with the world of Teyvat. Their core features, then, represent their initial points of contact with the world. They are the guiding principles behind all the character's actions and how they live their life.

Xiao was one of the first Liyue characters we came up with. He began with our colleague CiCi's proposal for a young warrior character, which everyone involved in the character evaluation process approved of. The Art team envisaged him as a young man of great beauty, while colleagues in Creative Concept & Writing hoped to position him as a beautiful adeptus. Both sides were on the same page, and thus Xiao became our very first character planned with the identity of "mighty and illuminated adeptus."

Although this is somewhat tangential, I'd like to take a moment here to give a little more detail on the adepti in the Genshin Impact universe, given that so many players have expressed an interest in this topic. The adepti are based on the idea of demigod-like "immortals" (仙人 xianren) in Daoism, and are referred to by the honorific title "sanyan wuxian" (三眼五显), literally "three eyes and five manifestations" (but localized in English as "mighty and illuminated"). The adepti are classed as non-human, based on the notion that "All who have nine orifices can achieve immortality through self-discipline," a line uttered by the "Monkey King" Sun Wukong in the Ming-dynasty novel Journey to the West. This means that animals are also capable of achieving adeptus status. However, humans have a higher purpose than adepti in the world of Teyvat, so for this reason, only those of non-human status can be referred to as "adepti" in Liyue. The "three eyes" part of the adepti's title refers to the "third eye" possessed by those with the ability to manipulate elemental energy, which for humans takes the form of a Vision. For adepti such as Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper, the human understanding is that they must have an "inner eye" that serves the same purpose as a Vision. Xiao, however, typically appears in a human form, so he dutifully wears a Vision to comply with the expected norm.

After the character's fundamentals are established, the next step is to design their Constellation and refine their cultural background.

Outside of Genshin Impact, the term "sanyan wuxian" can be traced back to ancient Chinese texts and also appears in supernatural fiction from the Late Imperial period (c. 1368–1911 CE). In both cases, it typically describes the Daoist deity Huaguang Tianwang (华光天王, "Heavenly King of Radiant Light"), also known as Ma Lingguan (马灵官, "Numinous Official Ma"). Huaguang Tianwang is a well-known guardian deity, who appears in the Ming-dynasty novel Journey to the South, in which he has an altercation with Sun Wukong. Research into folk culture also shows there is precedent to connect deities known as Wuxian (五显, "Five manifestations" or "Five Named Xian") with a group of malevolent deities known as Wutong (五通, "Five Powers" or "Five Named Tong"), which includes the one-legged, people-eating, mountain-dwelling demons known as Shanxiao (山魈, "mountain demon").

So, at the most hidden but fundamental level of this character's core, we decided on the name Xiao (魈) and the identity of a guardian-adeptus. The name Xiao is used to hide his past, but also embodies this character at the innermost part of his soul. It is the starting point for all further character development and cultural embellishments.

Another dimension of Xiao's design was that he wields an Anemo Vision and has a fleet-footed and agile combat style that includes the unique ability to propel himself through the air. To stay true to this, we decided to design his Constellation and skills around the idea of the yaksha in Buddhism. This meant we were conflating ideas from different sources; nevertheless, the yaksha had become a well-established figure in Chinese folk legends by at least the end of the Tang dynasty (618–907 CE). The yaksha element ended up being a crucial part of Xiao's design that really helped us flesh him out in terms of his image.

The two archetypal stories of "guardian yaksha" and "numinous official's redemption" both involve a malevolent spirit on a path towards goodness, which was consistent with the general direction of Xiao's character core. Furthermore, his physical agility matched very well with another term for yaksha in Chinese, "Swift and nimble spirit" (捷疾鬼 jieji gui). Through further development of the yaksha concept, we arrived at the decision that the other fundamental aspect of Xiao's identity would be his role as a guardian yaksha in service of a monarch, or in this case, an archon.

One detail is particularly worth mentioning here. There is a well-known group of guardian yakshas in some Buddhist denominations known as the Twelve Heavenly Generals. All but one of them correspond to different animals in the Chinese zodiac, while Mekhila, who would otherwise correspond to the rooster, is instead associated with a bird deity, the golden-winged Garuda, a figure from various Indian religions. The story goes that this golden-winged bird deity was a fearsome predator who ate only evil dragons, until one day the dragon poison he had consumed became too much for him to bear, and he burned to death, leaving only a crystal heart behind. This story seemed to resonate with aspects of Xiao's character. Furthermore, the Chinese name Jinchi Peng Wang Niao (金翅鹏王鸟, "Golden Winged Great Peng") embodies a history of evolution — it represents a convergence between Garuda and the Peng, a Chinese mythological bird, showing that some adaptation occurred in the process of his adoption into Chinese religion. After much consideration, we decided to use the Golden Winged Great Peng as the basis for Xiao's Constellation. In English, Xiao's Constellation has been localized as "Alatus Nemeseos," in reference to the bird deity and Xiao's role as the nemesis of evil.

Finally, we conducted an overall review of Xiao's character profile. During this process, we noticed that Xiao's origins were very complex: Some aspects of his identity were based on folk legends while others drew on religious stories. From mountain demon, to Daoist deity, to guardian yaksha, to mythological bird, this was a uniquely rich character formed from the convergence and refashioning of many ideas in one place. More importantly, all these elements were consistent with each other at the narrative layer, creating a strong and cohesive impression of who this character is and adding clear, nuanced substance to his story. This degree of complexity gave Xiao just the depth and appeal that we were hoping for with this character: we hoped to create something entirely new through the convergence and fusion of various cultural elements, and we hope that the end result, Xiao, possesses the power, aesthetic value, and maturity to become a true cultural icon.

The next step was shaping the character's personality and behavior.

After close consultation with Concept Art colleagues, Creative Concept & Writing further fine-tuned the details of this character's content. To pick one example, we all felt that the distinctive image of a young warrior was an important one that we wanted to keep. This begged the question: if Xiao is a warrior, who or what is he waging war against? We quickly got to thinking about a war between the gods. (See section 2 of this article for how Concept Art developed the mask design based on this idea.) One of the basic rules of the Genshin Impact world is that gods cannot be completely destroyed — even if a god's physical form is destroyed, its will and power live on. The remnants and the wrath of the defeated god will remain in the world, waiting for opportunities to cause chaos. To keep Liyue safe from this threat, somebody has to go and keep them at bay.

The decision to release Xiao at Lantern Rite was to tie in with the Chinese custom of driving away evil spirits at the new year, since Xiao's role in Liyue is that of a protector in precisely this capacity.

During festivals, people offer up incense and pray to the adepti for their protection.

But they do not pray to Xiao.

For Xiao is no lucky star that promises fame and fortune — he is a demon-hunting yaksha.

After the lantern lights of Liyue have faded, the thankless battle to protect the city goes on unseen. It is an endless battle, and there can be no victor.

The Traveler's first impression of Xiao is most likely to be of a silent and brooding individual, a courageous and competent fighter, and someone who harbors great suffering. This suffering comes from within Xiao himself. One aspect is that the years of intense, never-ending battle against the remnants of defeated gods have led to him resigning himself to the fact that fighting is all he is good at. The other aspect is that the remnants have a negative effect on him, while the constant killing places a karmic burden on him, causing him mental and spiritual anguish.

This inner suffering is present in the design of his skills: when Xiao uses "Bane of All Evil," he dons his mask, which continually enhances his combat abilities but also continually drains his health. This demonstrates the great suffering he must endure as a consequence of using this power.

After the Traveler has spent some time with Xiao, perhaps they can sense that deep down, Xiao has a gentler side. Xiao is by no means a cruel and callous individual, he is simply reticent to show his emotions to others.

Xiao always keeps his distance from the hustle and bustle of human society. This is not because he doesn't care about humanity, but is due to his role as a protector. He must wage war against dark forces out of sight of humans, and endure a suffering that is incomprehensible to them. Despite this, he does not despise humanity. Humans are the foundation of his millennia-old contract with Rex Lapis, and the reason he silently fights to protect every living soul in Liyue.

The player's first offer to Xiao is to go to the Lantern Rite together to experience the atmosphere. Xiao instinctively refuses requests of this nature— not because he dislikes the idea, but out of avoidance. For Xiao, who has lived for millennia, the human world is a brilliant but fleeting flash of light; a wisp of cloud floating by; a firework on the horizon. And as the one tasked with defending this flurry of activity, he is like a caged beast circling the fire of a stove: fearful, but also full of curiosity. Having watched from a distance for so long, he would not know how to join in with the crowd even if he tried.

The lanterns rise up into the night sky, as if to shine along with the stars. Xiao watches this beautiful sight alone from a mountaintop, and just like anyone else, he senses the sentiment behind them, and he understands that the reason people craft these beautiful things is to remember those who fought alongside him in the past. As one who lived through the events of the past and remembers it all, he is, of course, able to appreciate the well-wishes that the lanterns represent. He understands kindness and gratitude, but doesn't know how to interact with ordinary people, nor does he know what his place is among all the excitement and noise. This lonely state of existence is the source of his melancholy. It has caused time to stand still, leading to him still having a very young mentality even to this day.

During the main Liyue questline, Xiao came to the Traveler's rescue in their moment of peril. In Version 1.3 "All That Glitters," we invite Travelers once again to experience a story that provides a glimpse into Xiao's seldom-shown gentle nature, as well as the trust, hidden deep within his heart, that he places in you.

2. A Young Adeptus: Detail-Based Design

Hello everyone, this is D and SS from the Genshin Impact Art team. We worked on the concept art for Xiao.

After the initial brief, we produced a first draft of Xiao's design based on the young warrior concept. As you can see, Xiao's expression in this version is far from the stern one he wears today. He has a gentler temperament and he is smiling. In this sense, he captures a more traditional notion of what a Daoist immortal (or in Genshin Impact terms, an adeptus) might look like. After more discussion with Creative Concept & Writing colleagues and taking more of his back story into account, we decided on the green version.

Xiao is an adeptus who protects Liyue, and in the course of his long battle against the remnants of defeated gods all over Liyue, he has become poisoned by their nefarious energy. Based on this background, Xiao's upper body uses white and green, which represent the adepti and correlate to his Anemo Vision. For his lower body, we used darker colors to represent the dark, malevolent power that exists inside him.

Based on these same principles, we gave him dark hair with highlights, and also created some interplay between light and dark in his attack animations. The darkness represents the destructive power of fierce battle, while the fragments and orbs of light that he gives off come from the fact that he is an adeptus.

Xiao may have the appearance of a young man, but his true age is something over two thousand years.

Fortunately, people do not tend to underestimate him on the basis of his appearance — one only needs to spend a short time with Xiao to recognize that he is not someone to be trifled with.

Xiao is a man of few words. He is highly dangerous, and has the most piercing gaze you've ever seen.

Given Xiao's true age and his identity as an adeptus, we decided to give him some jade jewelry to bring a sense of longevity and mystery. Accordingly, his legs, wrists, and shoulders feature decorative jade as well as various other objects bearing simple motifs. Meanwhile, to match his young appearance with striking good looks, we tailored his clothing (especially on the upper body) using a more modern design, displaying his vibrancy and agility.

On the one hand, Xiao is an immortal adeptus, while on the other hand, he is a young warrior. This is a great variance in image, and it posed a significant challenge for us from an art perspective. Traditionally, an immortal is imagined as a scholarly figure dressed in long, flowing robes with wide sleeves, who is fairly reserved in the movements of their hands and feet. But Xiao, as a master of the dance-like art of polearm combat and a fleet-footed yaksha, required clothing that offers both protection and freedom of movement. Furthermore, we also knew that there were strict limits on any flowing parts of his outfit due to the risk of clipping they would create after 3D modeling.

So we made Xiao's garments close-fitting and short-sleeved, put some light gauntlets on his wrists, and added some religious paraphernalia such as a censer and a vajra. Meanwhile, his streamers and the breechcloths around his waist are decorated with a cloud motif to add a sense of antiquity. In this way, we achieved a union between practicality and ethereality.

"Bane of All Evil" — the four words that sum up what Xiao has experienced over the past millennia, according to Liyue's rulers who know the truth about him.

In the design of Xiao's mask, we referenced aspects of the masks traditionally used in exorcism rituals as part of Nuo (傩) folk religion.

The main colors used in these masks are black, blue, and gold, the eyes are bright but not flamboyant, and in general the masks look solemn but also mysterious. The sinister-looking bulging eyes, fangs, and horns instill fear in the viewer. The eye in the center of the forehead represents omniscience and the flame motifs make it all the more imposing, the intent being to cause all onlookers to cower in fear.

Xiao's release coincides with the ancient festival of Lantern Rite. We would like to use this historic occasion as a chance to send our best wishes to everyone — here's to deliverance from the ills that plague the real world as well as those that face us in the world of Teyvat. To fans of Xiao reading this, we hope you feel that learning a little about the design ethos gave you the chance to better understand and connect with this character.

(Continued in Part 2)

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Legolas x elven reader

Requested by @sokkasdarling​ -took me a lil while to think of smth but can i request a legolas fic pls🥺🥺 so maybe reader rly likes him and its super obvious to aragorn but not to leg man and then when he finds out its all soft and stuff🥺🥺🥺🥺 -

I hope you like this and it’s close to what you wanted, it was fun to write ngl, leggy is such an oblivious softie I love.

You had been traveling along with the Fellowship since your departure from Rivendell not even four weeks ago. But even so, time had not seemed so very long for you anyways. This whole adventure began when Gandalf sent word to your kingdom calling for your aid in an important mission of sorts, as per usual the old wizard was very vague in his brief explanations. But you’ve known him for such a long time that whenever he needs you, it’s usually very important. So you traveled many days to Rivendell where you met up with your other longtime friend Aragorn who has been traveling in the wilds since you last saw him, now looking incredibly less dirty if you may add.

It was a curious thing when you were gathered into a secret meeting where low and behold sat the one ring of all objects to grace your very eyes. Your inquisitive gaze scanned the open room as Lord Elrond spoke of the ring and who would be the one to help destroy it. You sat idly by the young hobbit Frodo, who Gandalf explained was the carrier of the one ring from all the way into the Shire to where he sits now. What a brave little fellow you thought. Directly in front of you from across the room sat Aragorn who was looking at the ring with a troublesome gaze upon his worried features.

 It was not until Boromir spoke did you realize the Prince of the Woodland Realm was among you. You didn’t exactly take the time to look at everyone sitting around the half circle when you got here, but your face softened the moment they locked eyes onto the attractive elven prince. You’d never met Legolas before, but you’ve heard about him through Aragorn and Elrond when he decided to vent about the dealings with Legolas’ kingdom. From that very moment you became immensely intrigued and drawn to the silver haired prince. Though your heart did leap when yourself and all of the Fellowship began the long journey to Mordor, you felt relieved and excited to be spending such a long time with Legolas. But as the weeks grew on, your feelings only grew stronger, and one night while on watch with Aragron, as the two of you sat away from the rest of your sleeping companions did you finally break your silence. 

“I must confess something to you or I fear it will eventually drive me mad. It concerns the likes of the only other elf among us, which I assume you’ve already guessed.” You begin with a sigh as you glance over to Aragorn for a moment, his eyes soften at this news that has been swirling within your mind for many days.

“What troubles you my friend?”

“My heart grows for the prince in a way that I did not expect. I enjoy his presence, the way he speaks, how he carries himself, his smile...and for that I cannot help it when I keep close to him while we travel.”

“I have noticed your longing eyes upon him, it is sweet.”

“In all my five-thousand years in this land, not once have I ever felt this way towards anyone. I cannot explain it Aragorn, it feels so strange...this feeling for him. So very strange.” Your brow furrows as you look off into the valley, Aragorn lends you a small smile though you don’t see it.

“My dear Y/N, I believe what you are experiencing is called love, well at least in human terms for that matter. I am happy for you, truly.” You turn your uneasy gaze to Aragorn, surprised to find him sharing a small smile with you. You turn your head towards the stars, closing your eyes as you feel a comforting breeze blow through your half braided hair. 

“Your words are kind indeed, but I cannot tell if he feels the same in anyway.....that is what scares me.”

“Let him know of your admiration in subtle ways, he should figure it out eventually. I know Legolas, Y/N, he is smart and sharp as the edge of a dagger.”

For the next week you thought hard about your conversation with Aragorn that night, so as the days rolled past and the nights came and went, you stayed at a healthy closeness to the prince and seeked his company in quiet moments when the Fellowship was at rest. To your great astonishment, Legolas deemed you quit comforting and unexpectedly full of good humor as well as kind-hearted and protective over the hobbits. You had more then once caught him staring at you when he thought you weren't looking, it always brought a warm smile to your face. But nothing more was said or done and your painfully obvious attraction towards Legolas was becoming increasingly more entertaining for Aragorn, within the daily trials of continuous walking and watching out for the hobbits and evil creatures alike. He truly felt for you and your internal frustration with these newly intense feelings for someone that you had never felt before. He understood that as an elf, when they fall in love, they fall with all of their heart and soul for whoever graces their path. 

The Fellowship had stopped for a small break after a long and tiresome hike up a large rocky hill for the past two hours, you practically had to carry Pippin up the last fifteen minutes of rough trailing just to make sure everyone was together at the top. Not even five peaceful minutes of rest could you have before Merry and Pippin were already forcing you into a game of who can throw a rock the farthest over the cliff. Not one to ever decline such an appealing invitation, you oblige and walk over to the cliff edge while the rest of the Fellowship watches in amusement. You chuck a fist sized rock into oblivion, unbeknownst to you from a spot higher up on the rocky edge, Aragorn has walked over to Legolas, deciding to figure out his elven friends innermost feelings.

“Y/N is a fascinating being isn’t she, I’ve never seen someone so willing to join in on the games of hobbits, her heart is kind, she’s good company.” Starts Aragorn as Legolas shifts his eyes from him and back to you again, the ghost of a smile forming onto his lips.

“I’m actually quite fond of her presence...it has surprised me.”

“Oh?” Wonders Aragorn with a knowing look that’s lost to Legolas as his attention is fixated on you and the two hobbits. 

“Yes. I did not expect to enjoy her company so much. Not ever have I met someone so unawares to how truly divine and clever they are...or beautiful.” Explains Legolas as he whispers the last part, its so quite that Aragorn almost misses it but he does not and a small laugh escapes him. Legolas abruptly turns to his friend, his expression a mix of embarrassment and slight dejection. 

“I do not laugh at your tellings my friend, if only Y/N new. She would be very pleased to hear this I’m certain.” Replies Aragorn with a nod, Legolas’ brow furrows in deep thought.

“What do you mean?” He questions, confused as to what Aragorn is implying.

“Have you not noticed? She feels much for you in these past weeks of our journey. Y/N has given you a place in her heart, do you understand my meaning now?” 

Legolas’ face changes to a new realization as he slowly turns his head to a smiling Aragorn, “Y/N loves me? I thought it was only I who felt that way, how could I have missed it?” He says astonished as his face breaks out into a beaming grin. “She loves me. Y/N loves me. This day has been weary and long, but my heart leaps with this news. I will tell her tonight when we rest for the day, I only hope that she will be just as joyous, even with my lack of a gift.”

“I don’t believe she’ll mind. Just knowing you feel the same should suffice.” Adds Aragorn with a friendly pat to Legolas’ shoulder, he flashes him a quick smile before staring at you adoringly once again. 

[onwesterlywinds]

The Body Fragile Yields

Part of my Godhands series, set roughly in the year 1544 of the Sixth Astral Era - thirty-three years before Hydaelyn’s present-day, and thirteen years before Ala Mhigo’s fall.

Content warning for sexual assault and body horror.

GODHANDS IS NOW ON AO3! If you like it, send over some kudos!

Once, in the early days of her service to the crown and only some few moons after her father's death, Sigrid had been sent out to attend to Theodoric and Hrodric on a stroll through Queen Edila's gardens. Theodoric came across a dead marmot and at once took a stick to it. He poked it over and over again until its half-scavenged, half-decayed innards collapsed into themselves and spilled out over the earth. That single act of violence loosed a stench so foul that Hrodric went running; even Sigrid had to cover her face and recoil from it. That memory was one of the very few of her own that would overcome her once the vera root took hold, though it came more as a dream than a recollection: it seized her whether or not she wished it to, usually whenever Blackram seized her in kind.

***

"It's alright," Blackram whispered, again and again, as his blackened hand moved across her skin, as his body moved over top of her body. He could not reach her when she was like this, not truly, but her distress was an agony for how deeply it had taken root in him. If he could not soothe her, he would soothe himself, and he would speak to her as he did not ever need to when they were truly one.

Each time the primal's influence waned, they spent at least a week abed while they shook off the mantle of divinity and regained some semblance of their selves. It was a harrowing process made somewhat less so by the warmth of Sigrid's body lying next to his, and the persistence of their bond, and the knowledge that their suffering would soon be at an end.

***

His given name, she divined from their pervasive mental thread, was Grimms. It was not that he disliked the name for any reason; he simply doubted whether or not he was worthy of claiming it. Every woman and man who had spoken his name aloud had met a brutal end, and rarely ever by his own hand, as if the Undercity itself could expunge any trace of it on a whim. As such, he preferred Blackram, the title of his own making, at least until he could pass it on to a deserving heir.

***

Ashley. Their heir could only be Ashley, and yet this conviction invariably brought them pain twinned with pride. Sigrid would weep from it, no matter how much vera tonic she'd imbibed, and the prospect of Brynhilde's son as her son - their son - brought forth in him her visceral grief and guilt, as debilitating as their shared sickness. Of all he had done to secure the Undercity, to remake it on Sigrid's behalf, he could not yet fathom what it would mean to bring Ashley into their fold: in fulfilling his own destiny, in treating with the power of the gods, would he condemn his only scion to this same hell?

Only the Ascian would know.

***

Some days, when he needed solitude but ached for her closeness, Blackram would carry her on his arm to a spot deeper still than the catacombs: a placid saline lake where snowflies gathered to flit above the surface if the air was warm. While there, he would release her for some few moments to tend to his own musings, and she would run her toes along the smoothed rocks that comprised the banks until her last dregs of energy were spent and her legs would heed her no more.

It was akin to how the Saltery had found Blackram's mother so long ago, floating face-up and stone-cold in the shallows of Loch Seld. In life, the lot of them had called her a banshee - one of the beings that haunted the valleys with their wailing lamentations since long before the flood - and even as they hauled her corpse from the water, her hair and lips and lashes crusted with salt, they handled her with far more caution than reverence.

***

The Undercity was deep in the throes of winter, and only the salt of the lake kept it from freezing over so far beneath the earth; the snowflies were well into hibernation for the year and would not return for another few moons at best. The cold settled itself upon every ilm of stone like a fine shroud, brutal to bear without the warmth of their bed, and the bite in his boots intensified as Sigrid stretched out her own feet into the frigid, numbing depths.

Through it all, his dead hand ached worse than ever.

"You're late," drawled the red-masked figure.

***

No matter how deeply the vera root infringed upon her consciousness, no matter how low she had sunk into vague scenes from her memories or Blackram's, that voice had a way of cutting through the debility, the cold, the fear. Half the time it did not sound like Common, let alone any other language she had ever heard, and yet she understood it better than she understood her innermost thoughts.

She would have to simply lose herself, as she had learned to do while chained to the catacomb walls at this voice's behest, while lying futilely on her back, while Blackram whispered over and over that it was alright. She threw her head back to the cavern ceiling and a moan escaped her lips - the first sound she made in longer than she could remember.

***

He had grown used to the Ascian's dramatic entrances. Whoever they were and whatever their origin, they defied every law the Undercity imposed upon its denizens. The passage before him, now only a vague memory of Skalla, was the sort of place no living soul could traverse without leaving some trace of themselves - and yet there his benefactor stood, surveying the clawed tips of their gloves as dark currents from the void swirled around them.

"We've done it," Blackram declared. He was breathing heavily, as though he had run a malm while wracked with fever, all from the strain of having carried Sigrid to her point of rest in the pool. "We've summoned Zalera of our own flesh and survived."

The Ascian gave him an evident once-over from behind their blood-red mask and scoffed. "Albeit the worse for wear."

Blackram gritted his teeth but offered no retort. He would endure the weakness, endure the chills, endure his own dead hand until the primal was to be brought forth again. The only other choice was for him to lie down and die - and if he were to perish with so much left undone, then so too would Sigrid.

"We have fulfilled our end of our bargain, done as you instructed. But I would ask something different of you in exchange."

The Ascian's smile widened, ever the more unsettling for the fact that it was their only visible feature. "Oh?"

"I set my previous terms before Sigrid and I were joined - and now, there is much more at stake than the specifics of my past. I would inquire instead of the future."

"Hmph." They shrugged, rolling out their shoulders. "This could be your only chance for answers - to know of yourself, where you came from, how you came to be. You would deny yourself this knowledge forever?"

If this was a trial, a test of wills, he would overcome it. For Sigrid's sake. "I would."

"Suit yourself - though I must warn you that foresight is not a gift I possess. Nevertheless, I would not have your deeds be met with a reward you deem unfitting. Ask whatever you wish, and if it is within my knowing, I will grant you your answer."

For the briefest of moments, a glimmer of Skallan tilework, as blue as a clear morning, captivated his attention from somewhere off in the darkness. "If our heir should take up the mantle of Zalera in our stead," he began, and found that his question evaded him until only a fatalistic certainty remained. "...He will suffer as we have."

His benefactor did not move. They gave no sign that they were even breathing, let alone listening; when they spoke again, it was in a voice far softer, far more deadly, than any they had used before.

"That is something no one can say. What you have achieved thus far - the binding of two souls in service of a primal - is without precedent for your kind. Whether this mantle can be passed down to another will depend entirely on this boy, and perhaps on what he can learn from you."

And for the first time in longer than Blackram could remember, his gut clenched with stirrings of hope.

"Now, then. If that's all, you'd best return to your lady love. There's no telling what she could get up to unattended, even in her state."

Sigrid would be missing him; she was alone and cold and so distant in body and mind. But he was halfway to the primal's haunt, and he could use the last of his strength to make that journey alone, to gather what he needed with her none the wiser.

"Oh, and Blackram?"

The Ascian was at his flank in an instant, tucked into his blind spot faster than he could blink. He raised his arm to fend off an attack, only for the Ascian to whisper in his ear.

"Your success has also earned you this..."

They did not speak the next words aloud. His father's name fell into his thoughts as though it had been there all along.

***

The knife brought her back to herself. Her hand slipped to the stones at the pool's edge and touched its hilt, and she knew it at once as a gift from Rhalgr or Byregot or Brynhilde. Its blade was rusted along its edge but plenty sharp at the tip, sharp enough to pierce skin, perhaps rupture vital organs. For the first time in moons, she was reminded of her father - not a specific moment in which to lose herself, but the sound of him at work in their home's basement forge, then the smell of his sweat when he'd emerge at the end of the day. The memories stung her all the more for their vagueness, for the reprieve they could not grant her.

And she was alone. Blackram had yet to return for her, though she could sense some decisive purpose driving him deeper into the cavern, much deeper than his talk with the Ascian had required. The vera root was wearing off and her pulse was quickening, and the salt on her tongue tasted of Brynhilde.

She tucked the knife into the band that tied back her hair, though her arms ached to stretch them so, and she prayed the glint or press of it would not alert Blackram when he came to pick her up once more. When at last he reappeared, he lifted her across his unblemished left arm, steady against his shoulder. He whispered words she could not make out, adjusted her headband to cover her eyes, and the knife did not fall. She endured the familiar, troubled movements of his body as he walked them back up to their chambers in the catacombs, where a new horror beckoned.

A swath of red lay across the bedsheets, so violent in its scattering that she retched. She could smell the rot of flesh from him and from everywhere, as overpowering as ever. She backed away from the bed even as Blackram reached for her, shaking her head and trembling all over.

Get away from me. The words would not leave her, no matter how she screamed.

"Sigrid," he whispered. He held more of it in his blackened hand, its perfume overpowering; a bloom of-

Red lilies.

He reached for her but the knife was already in her hand. He reached for her and she stabbed outward until the lilies fell to the stone at their feet. He reached for her until he drew back with a hiss of pain, a shuddering gasp, a gush of blood flowing freely from his side.

He reached for her and held her fast about the waist, stanched his wound with her skin, pressed his dead hand to the base of her spine and bared his soul to hers.

Blackram, bastard son of Titus yae Galvus, summoned Zalera from their agony once more.