#writing.cyno

[favoniuscodex]

MYTHOS : LETHE, PART TWO . [ tartaglia, alhaitham, cyno ]

series : mythos, a mythology au - [ info & series masterlist ] series description : you are fated to save the world by assembling a team of the supposedly dead gods of ancient teyvat to stop the apocalypse. great. sounds easy enough, right? [ previous chapter ] - current: prologue pt. 2 - [ next chapter ] pairings: tartaglia x gn!reader, alhaitham x gn!reader, cyno x gn!reader word count: ~5.1k [ ~1.4k / ~1.9k / ~1.7k ] warnings : dream sequences / surrealism . drowning/thalassophobia . brief instances of claustrophobia . minor violence . mentions of death . author note : it's been a while, hasn't it? please read the first part if you haven't! the three parts within this section are all dream sequences, so they're a bit weird, but don't worry, no real trouble happens. if you need anything else tagged in warnings, please lmk! thanks for reading, this series is my baby <3 parts of the prologue won't make sense but it's intended to be that way because it's dream sequences filled with foreshadowing

SECTION INTRO ::

the transition to life in liyue harbor is one of ease. it seems as though everything is falling into place, slowly but surely. the city is still daunting, yes, but you know that it is yours for the taking. nights are spent alone, scheming on when you'll find your next piece of furniture and eating takeout out of flimsy cartons.

work is secure. stability is not necessarily guaranteed, but you believe your boss is fond of you enough to keep you on payroll for another few months. your boss has been a tough read since your first day, but you've managed not to step on any toes and, despite your increasingly strange sleeping patterns, you have arrived on time each day.

thus, each evening, when your eyes groan with fatigue from the screens you use to occupy your free time, you finally succumb to the inevitable. the thought of sleep is rather daunting, but you aren't quite sure why. the sense of danger is quickly buried by the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, as if your next adventure awaits you once you finally retire from this own world for the evening.

you cannot remember your dreams, but perhaps that's what makes them all the more alluring.

IV. GOD OF THE OCEANS - tartaglia

the crashing roar of an ocean wave serves as your alarm. it startles you into consciousness. with little time to react, your body is submerged in water. you instinctively gasp for air just before going under, but it isn't enough, especially as the vicious currents toss you around and pull you further into the murky depths.

you do not know where the shoreline went. after what feels like eons of tumbling through the water, you are unsure if there was ever earth to stand upon. you hold your breath until your lungs scream for air, but there is water up your nose already and very little reason to believe you could ever reach the surface.

when the currents finally release you, you can see nothing but endless blue. knowing that you will die is not the worst part. it is the knowledge that this is your burden to carry alone, for there are no witnesses to your plight. hysterically, you laugh, watching hopelessly as the bubbles of air escape your lips and float upwards, all while you sink in the opposite direction.

before you can close your eyes and embrace the wretched end that awaits you, you feel a tentacle enclose itself around your waist, and suddenly you're being pulled down, down, down into the depths below. your eyes provide you no understanding of the situation, for the monster holding you is too fast, plunging the two of you into the parts of the ocean where no light can reach.

you will not die alone. you'll die as the last meal of this unknown creature. perhaps it is a kind one, who may offer you a swift and merciless death. what does it matter anyways? you think, unable to find it in yourself to struggle as the creature hoists you towards the bottom of the ocean. i was always going to die.

"giving up already? that's not like you."

you are unsure where the words have come from, words familiarly unfamiliar like a distant childhood melody. you are unsure how you have not run out of air. you are unsure where you are going as you torpedo towards the bottom of the ocean. the only certainty in your mind is that death is no longer an option, but even you are unsure of the origin of such an assumption.

the creature holding you reaches the bottom of the ocean. the ground is not earth; it is glass. you realize this as you are unceremoniously slammed against the barrier between ocean and below, feeling it crack under your impact. despite this, no pain shoots throughout your body. an eerie wave of familiarity washes over you, far more soothing than the wave that swept you out into this sea earlier. now calm, you stop writhing in your captor's grasp as you thump into the glass once again.

this time, it shatters.

you and all of the ocean are sent surging into the void of air below. you fall facing upwards, and in the light that shines up from beneath you, you watch as the water suddenly retreats, leaving you to be the only object falling through the air. you greedily gulp in air despite knowing that you will likely face your demise once you hit the ground.

"hold still."

the voice is clearer once again, no longer warped by the waters above. your vision turns the color of seafoam before two arms catch you, breaking your fall with an inhuman ease. you stare up at your savior with wide eyes and parted lips. you focus on his eyes, which match the endless blue that spoke of death for you just moments ago.

"don't look at me like that, i've told you not to arrive up there, but you do anyways," he gently chides. "do you know who i am, princess?"

the corners of his lips peel back in a sharpened grin. you lift a hand up anyways, unafraid of the knife of his inhuman smile as your palm cups around his cheek. the edges of his teeth soften at your actions, snake-like pupils rounding into the familiar circle shape of humanity.

"you're..." you begin, tearing your eyes from his face to inspect the rest of him. you watch his adam's apple bob as he gulps in anticipation, bated breath held. "you are the creature from ocean. the one that saved me."

at your words, your savior's grin drops, and a nearly inaudible sigh of defeat escaping his lips. his teeth sharpen once more, yet you feel no fear. rather, you worry that he'll bite his tongue when he speaks. surely, such an action would hurt with such piercing teeth.

"that's not quite the answer i was looking for," he says, and uncharacteristically strong indignation rises within you, as if you've had this conversation with him thousands of times before. you let muscle memory take over, controlling your tongue to speak with fierce words.

"oh? would you prefer if i call you ■■■■?" you ask, allowing his name to roll off your tongue. your words are a pebble tossed into a still lake, causing emotions ripple across the face of your savior. his intimidating expression gives way to trepidation, and he looks up at the water barrier above the two of you, as if expecting it to suddenly break and ruin your refuge of air.

"you cannot say such things."

all mirth has left his voice as he speaks lowly. light has left his oceanic eyes, reminding you just how far below the depths you are with this strange man holding your life in his hands.

"you are not supposed to know that," he reprimands you. you cannot remember the name that you called him, no matter how hard you try as his gaze pierces you. "and if you do know it, pretend that you don't. if the heavens hear you say that, they'll undo your existence, and even if i drain the oceans, i will be unable to stop them."

"tartaglia." you say. the barrier above you seems to be approaching, walls closing in on the two of you. it is not the name you said earlier, but it is the only name you can bring forth in your mind. he stares at you, expression unreadable.

"tartaglia, where are we?" panicked, you grasp at the flowing gray fabric of his robes. they look as though they are carefreely floating in water, gently sinking down and down despite the two of you being suspended in air. you have not yet reached the bottom of the other side. its as if the two of you are still in the water above, and yet-

"almost home," he says. the statement would normally bring you comfort, but this time, it only leads to your hands frantically scrabbling around his chest, before you hastily fling your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him.

"i- i can feel them," you begin to babble mindlessly, eyes blown wide as you look up at his expression. tartaglia's face begins to contort, smeared in your vision like watercolor pigments haphazardly tossed in a cup of water. despite it all, you can see the worry in his eyes, no matter how unclear they might be. it is a horrid feeling, knowing that he can see your mind slipping out from underneath you.

"wake up," he says, calmly, but there's a faint waver in his voice. "it's okay to wake up. we can see each other some other time."

"i can't," you sob, voice finally cracking as the ceiling of glass above the two of you begins to split. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have said what i did, i'm sorry."

you feel a hand smooth over your hair, but the soothing attempt proves futile as you feel a drop of water on your forehead.

"it's okay, sweetheart." tartaglia promises, but you can no longer see his lips move. you wonder what expression he wears now.

"everything will be alright," tartaglia has never been one to break a promise, but, for the first time, you doubt the truth of his words. "i promise."

you part your lips to speak, but the glass ceiling above the two of you gives out, thrusting you into darkened waters once more, away from the mysterious savior whose touch felt as familiar as a lover's.

V. GOD OF KNOWLEDGE - alhaitham

you tumble through water until you are washed ashore, tired body sliding gently onto warm white sands. sand grains refuse to cling to your body, even as you push yourself upright and look around. there's a fading sense of loss in your heart, as if you were torn apart from someone you love dearly, but you can't remember their face or their name. perhaps none of it was true and the only truth is found in the overwhelming sense of fear that still clutches at your heart.

perhaps the only truth is this empty beach you now sit on. the land of dreams that you are stuck in fails to generate any seashells or other signs of life. there's an expanse of green that begins where the sands end, but even it lacks detail, as if purposefully designed for you to remain uninterested in it. rather, the waters that you were once so fearful of allure you, since you know there will be no crabs within it to pinch at your toes, and no floating seaweed to imitate a fish slithering by. perhaps it would appear once you thought of it, and the sea creatures are now greedily pinching their claws at the thought of being able to pull you into the depths once more.

the thought of such creatures sends you stumbling away from the tide, feet struggling to navigate the overly soft sands. when you finally reach the grass, you no longer feel tired, and when you turn around, the beach is gone, replaced by a sprawling expanse of even more grass. but this new area is different from the dull one you currently stand in. perhaps, if your eyes do not deceive you, there is a building of glass that is visible only if you squint, prismatic rainbows faintly shimmering while promising a palace of erudition to those who know enough to pass its entrance exam of invisibility.

to others, the entrance may prove to be a difficult find, but you simply know. its a phenomenon you would not be able to explain if prompted, but you know the way to enter the invisible residence. it beckons you as you walk towards it. the overwhelming dread is not enough to hold you back as your hand wraps around the crystalline door handle, a vast pillar of nothingness, and you tug.

the door opens with a heavy groan, as if unused in millennia, and you hurry in. the door slams closed behind you, sealing shut and preventing your unauthorized departure. now inside the invisible structure, you can see the ornate halls that sprawl out endlessly in front of you in woodsy tones. faint accents of green adorn tan, beige, and wooden structures, while wooden flooring is gently coated with the finest of rugs.

instinctively, you take off your shoes. you'd feel awful if you tracked sand into such a beautiful residence. at least your clothes are no longer wet. the crystalline blue outside has long since left your mind, thus leaving your clothes as well. your socked feet pad against the luxurious floors. despite the intricately carved nature of the building you stand in, there is little physical decoration outside of the base appearance of the walls, floors, and windows, but it takes your breath away nonetheless. you know each and every brick and every stone pillar within the vicinity was crafted by hand, even if the hands that created the domain are ones that only reside in your own mind.

you turn to the left. it is where the scent of incense is strongest, and you follow it down the hall, twisting and turning until you reach a set of doors once more. unlike before, however, these doors are wholly visible, crafted of darkened karmaphala wood, with gilded handles that extend the entire length of the door. your hand reaches out to push open the doors, but they begin to open before your hand can make contact with the door.

"this is not a library, so be sure to put everything back exactly where you found it," a voice commands as you enter. you are unsure where it came from, but you care little for finding it as your breath is taken away by the room in front of you.

shaped like a sphere, the room of knowledge before you has bookshelves that cascade up the walls, defying gravity as they curve up and over, still able to hold their books securely despite facing the ground above. golden light filters in through arched windows, impossibly glowing throughout the entire circumference of the room. you wonder if this room has been miraculously thrust into the heavens, but such a thought only reminds you of words you should not have spoken and the dread returns once more.

"you look nervous," the voice asks from just over your shoulder and you jump in place. "normally i don't concern myself with such things, but it is not often that you visit."

your lips part instinctively to apologize, but all words die on your lips as you turn to look at the god beside you. multicolor irises stare at you, piercing right through you as if he can read your thoughts and panic rises within you. his eyes are all-seeing, all-knowing, but his brow furrows in confusion at your shellshocked expression.

"you do not remember me." his words are matter-of-fact. you know that the man before you only ever speaks the truth, but he is wrong. you remember him. you remember him as a puppet of the heavens, as a stone carving of that with which is burdened with divine knowledge. you remember him dying as his mind fractured in two, for even the inorganic cannot comprehend that which was not meant to be witnessed. you remember him as a king driven to madness, whose kingdom and rule have been forgotten by generations. you remember him as...

"alhaitham. scribe of the heavens," he greets you. "you know enough to find my residence, but not enough to acknowledge my place in your memories. how intriguing. perhaps there are things that i have yet to fully understand, but the likely answer for such a phenomenon could simply just be the natural decay of the human lifeform."

you stare at him, blinking once, then twice. your lips part before closing once more, and the scribe looks rather dismayed by your actions. you aren't sure why he almost seems to have anticipated your arrival. it causes dread to rise within you. forbidden words rest within your mouth, turning your tongue into heavy lead, and you find yourself unable to form the words of which you desire. any interest alhaitham might have had in you dies in the presence of your silence as he only sighs.

"all knowledge that humanity could dream of is found on these shelves, so please hesitate before looking for me if you need help. i can assure you that finding the answer yourself is much more rewarding."

there's a dryness to his words that makes you doubt what he's saying, as if he is moments away from a checkmate despite you never having agreed to this game of chess.

"you know what i know," you say, despite the way your mind screams at you to stop speaking.

"i know all that you have said and all that you will say," the god confirms. "i know you like the back of my hand. at this point, it is all simple calculations to know which words will and won't fall from your lips."

"so you know what i should not know," you say slowly. "are you here to reprimand me for it? is that why you summoned me here?"

you memorize the faint sliver of a knowing smirk that appears on his face as he turns away from you.

"i do not enjoy the presence of others. i typically prefer the company of a book. that should be a great enough indicator that i was not the one who summoned you here."

perplexation surges up within you. perhaps at one point you would have understood his words, but in the muddled fogginess of your dreams, you lack the full context to understand what he truly means with his words. your scholarly nature is failing you. this is an exam that you were never told you had to study for, but you manage to muster a haphazard conclusion anyways.

"you're saying i brought myself here?"

"each time you come here, you forget the time we have spent together. you forget your pursuit of understanding why you show up here, but you seek out the answer to your forgotten questions nonetheless," alhaitham says. he walks over to the infinite bookshelves and plucks a book unceremoniously off the shelf. it is purple, with blinding golden binding and trim. the decals on the cover shift in front of you, cycling through a series of glyphs and letters of languages you have never before witnessed.

"you seek your answers in these books that i have written," alhaitham says, and there is a fond wistfulness in his voice, faint enough that you wonder if you imagined it. "but the answer will always be found within yourself."

you open the book, embracing the smell of aged paper that wafts out as it faintly crackles from the slight bend of its spine. the pages are illegible, but as your fingers trace the text, you understand them anyways.

"you finding the answer is inevitable," alhaitham says. a grandfather clock chimes in the center of the room four times as alhaitham pauses, as if expecting its interruption. "the only question is when."

you stare at him in bafflement, confusion warping your expression briefly, before you return to the pages in front of you. they tell a story of a person whom you do not know, but they feel familiar nonetheless.

"knowledge means nothing if there is no action to follow it," alhaitham says. "but by all means, continue fruitlessly seeking your answers."

"you're not going to help?" you ask. "you taunt me with your words, yet you do not extend any form of guidance?"

"i am the god of knowledge, but i never once claimed to be the god of shared knowledge."

the book in your hand weighs heavy as indignation takes over you. the idiot before you wants action? he wants to speak in mocking, faux platitudes as he weaves riddles around you in unclear words? doesn't he prefer to keep to himself? shouldn't he know to keep to himself?

uncharacteristic anger boils within you, rising up your throat as you snap the book close. the god turns to look at you once more, thoroughly unimpressed with your existence.

"you... you..." you sputter, and the god of knowledge looks at you unimpressed.

"irrational as always," he says. "letting a feeble scholar like me twist your mind into anger because you are unable to reach a conclusion on your ow-"

the scribe's words fall silent as you rear your arm back, hurling the book in your hand as hard as you can at him. but, just as the corner of the spine makes impact with his cheek, the dream shatters, and with it, all of your knowledge does as well, sending you spiraling into nothingness.

VI. GOD OF JUDGEMENT - cyno

"stand up. anger does not suit you," a voice above you says as you blearily open your eyes. confusion washes over you as you find yourself not in your room, but instead on desert sands, baking slowly to a crisp in the harsh sunlight. you squint as you look up, putting a hand over your eyes to filter out the light. carefully, the man standing over you adjusts his position so that his shadow casts itself over your eyes.

"oh gods," you groan at the sight of another godly figure. "not another."

despite your wretched complaint, the god's intimidating features soften as an amused chuckle escapes his lips.

"i think i know exactly who you were with before me," he extends a hand towards you, helping you up as the other adjusts his hat. "but shed your contempt for the gods, at least for this moment. it weighs down your soul."

as you stand up, you finally meet the god's rubied eyes, which threaten to disappear from view as desert winds ruffle his white hair. his features are sharp, as if perfectly crafted to be ever watchful. there is something threatening about his appearance, but you find comfort in his inherent vigilance. despite the polearm that is sheathed against his back, the god before you does not strike fear into your heart.

"interesting," the god notes. "normally, i have to crack a few jokes before you are this at ease. has my appearance gone soft?"

"perhaps my heart has just gone light," you say. "i am certain the scales of judgement will tip in my favor."

a dry laugh escapes the mahamatra's lips. "it is not yet time for your judgement."

"ah?" you say, tongue far lighter than it should be in the presence of the god who strikes fear into the hearts of those who stand before him. "slacking on your duties to be here in this moment, then?"

"judgement is not something that can be rushed, and one who dedicates themselves solely to their duties will lose sight of proper judgement where it matters most. rather, i-"

"take it easy, cyno," you say softly. "i was just joking."

the god of judgement's gaze widens as you speak his name, and a gentle smile splits across his fierce features. you've never met the man before this moment, but you know him far too well, enough to spout off what his favorite jokes are and exactly when he'll make them.

"you remember my name," cyno whispers, and the bated breath of anticipation that escapes his lungs twists your heart into fluttering somersaults. "maybe this is my dream after all."

you feel your cheeks warm at his words, and you are thankful for the way the summer sun hides your flustered state under the guise of sweat. nervously, you glance away. you do not know this man, but your soul does, and it does not remember him being so forward with his words.

"i must apologize," you say, earlier conversations with the other, less agreeable gods forgotten in the presence of the man who will one day decide your heavenly fate. "that is all i can say i remember."

your gaze shifts from his as you look downwards, but cyno pays your dismay no mind as he shrugs his shoulders.

"you remember me well enough to place us both within the desert. you've never been fond of the heat, but you know i am," the god says, seriousness lacing his words. "perhaps we can go somewhere more agreeable for the both of us."

"would you not like to stay in the desert?" you ask. "the sun is uncomfortable, but it is not scorching."

a rumble in the distance interrupts the both of you, and you turn to look at the sound. a wry smile crosses cyno's expression at the sight of the sandstorm in the distance. within the cloud of sand that quickly approaches, lightning races between individual grains of sand, promising danger. as you watch, enchanted by the dangerous sight, cyno's hand wraps itself around your wrist. the soft scrape of the edge of his gloves draws your attention back to him, but the mirth stored within his expression has long since left.

"close your eyes," cyno gently orders and you oblige. "concentrate on somewhere else. anywhere you want, otherwise the dream will shatter."

you heed his words as a gust of wind breezes past the two of you, ruffling the fabric of your clothes. but, the wind fades as quickly as it came, and you open your eyes to a familiar sight. you have never been here before, at least not in your current sense. it does not exist in the waking world, but a sense of deja vu washes over you. you've been here before, but you also haven't.

"puspa cafe," cyno murmurs. "quite fascinating that you choose to revisit this time and world of all places."

"is there something wrong with it?" you ask, suddenly worried about how he may judge you for such a choice. "i... don't recognize it. i do, but i don't."

"when you pick places like this," cyno says. "it means our time is limited together. it must nearly be sunrise for you."

confusion coats your mind like a sticky syrup. sunrise? end of your time together? what does he mean? your awareness of your situation muddles even further as the two of you sit down at one of the cafe tables. this is how it's always been for the two of you. this is puspa cafe, in the middle of sumeru city. cyno has just returned from one of his missions as the general mahamatra, just after being reinstated, and you invited him to meet you here.

typically, there are others that show up with the two of you, but you can't remember their faces. instead, your mind fixates on cyno. it is as if your mind is occupied by other things, only able to consciously focus on one person at a time. this is how it's always been. what is he talking about?

"sunrise?" you ask. "but, look out the window, it's daytime, cyno. we agreed to meet here yesterday. don't tell me you're bailing now."

the corners of cyno's lips twitch. "of course not. what did we agree to speak of here, again?"

you look up at him, baffled by his sudden lack of memory. his piercing gaze flits over your face, as if grappling to understand the situation. it fills you with an odd sense of sadness. has the time away from sumeru city really scattered his thoughts this badly?

"you wanted to show me your new tcg deck. you picked up some new cards in mondstadt, right?" you ask and cyno nods slowly, as if finally catching up to speed.

"mondstadt. i see."

"yeah?" you ask, smiling wide at him. your ignorance has consumed you, now blissfully unaware of the past moments in your dream with him. moments of lucidity are all too rare for you, and cyno knows this well. one day, your paths will cross outside of the limitations of your dreams, but for now, cyno must abide by their rules, no matter how much he wishes to follow his own code of internal judgement and belief.

not wanting you to awake by insisting on your awareness of the dream, cyno pulls out his familiar deck of cards, with several new and shiny cards. each character card has a warped face, as you cannot remember this moment you once lived. but cyno remembers it precisely, despite not yet having achieved godliness. he feels utterly human, but even so, you are still out of reach.

"you don't just see, cyno," you say, a mischevious giggle escaping your lips. "you t-see-g. get it? tcg?"

the pun is almost as bad as the jokes he makes, and cyno groans at your joke. carefully, you take some of his newest tcg cards in your hand, gently inspecting the intricate art on each card.

"um, i know you just got back to sumeru and all that," you say, unable to make eye contact with him as you look at the drawing of blonde hair of the acting grand master of mondstadt before you. "but would you want to meet up again tomorrow? i can shift some stuff around and make it work, but if you want to see your other friends first, that's ok! i can wait."

cyno remembers this conversation. he remembers how he brushed you off at first, unaware of the dividing fates that would consume the both of you whole the next day. cyno would fall victim to the mausoleum of king deshret, in which he was sent there on a rushed expedition by the akademiya grand sages, and you would fall victim to the greed of misguided eremites. he remembers the human bitterness of regret, something he hasn't felt in a long time.

so, he indulges your dreams and you feel your heart flutter as he does so.

"bring your deck and we can play a tcg matchup," cyno says. "you always were my best rival."

the smile that spreads across your face is more radiant than the desert sun, and the edges of your vision wobble as you look at cyno. a faint blush rises to his cheeks, and just as you notice his slightly flustered state, your dream melts into the sand.

your eyes flutter open. the dull gray ceiling of your apartment is a stark contrast to the bright colors of what you were dreaming of. the air still smells of freshly roasted coffee, but as you try to pinpoint why the aroma is so familiar, it fades. instead, you smell the familiar scent of your bedroom's air freshener as you attempt to hold onto the fleeting scenes of your dream, only to watch as the memories of what never was slip through your fingers like sand.