Chapter Text
Leaving the hustle of busybodies scattered around the roads of Nasha Town, Varka once again finds himself at the bustling Flagship, the place now brimmed full of tipsy merchants looking to relieve a daily worker's stress. Varka himself would love to join them, but he was here today on qualms of meeting up with Nefer once more.
Sitting down at the booth, he took more careful, slow sips of his drink as to not get himself drunk before discussions began. Looking around the place, he felt his drunken, fuzzy memories from him with Flins a few days ago come back to him.
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Varka, already a few drinks deep in the game, drunkenly asked Flins, "hey, are you single?"
Flins simply looked back at him and smiled and oh--it was the most alluring yet dangerous smile he'd ever seen--was he was beautiful.
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He glanced up at the clock near the bar, which read 20:59 PM before the minute and hour hands simultaneously ticked clockwise, the latter perfectly aligned on the 9 symbol on the clock. As if on cue, the door to the Flagship opened with an audible creak and a familiar head of emerald green hair graced his vision.
Nefer spared no glance to her surroundings, heading straight to Varka's table looking strangely pleased.
"Aye, you made it!" Varka greeted, drink still in hand. Nefer dipped her head slightly in response, a small greeting of her own, before sliding into the seat across from him in the booth.
"So," she began, eyes sparkling with a hint of catlike curiosity and knowing, "didn't expect you to schedule another appointment so soon."
He gallantly laughed, agreeing, "me neither, but here we are, eh?"
She let out a sound of agreement before calling one of the odd butler-like robots over and ordering an expensive drink.
As the robot mechanically scurried away, she admitted, "on such short notice, I hadn't acquired all the information on your dragon friend or the abyss quite yet. I have a few leads, if that'll satisfy your hunger."
"No need," Varka answered, shaking his head, "I'd rather get all the information at once, yeah?"
"A wise choice," Nefer concurred, taking the drink that must arrived, "but then what brings you here on a wonderful evening like this? Surely, you'd rather spend your time drinking with your men."
Before Varka could answer, her voice took on a tone of mischief before she asked, "or is it you wish to know more about your lover?"
"HUH!?" Varka half-shouted, attracting the momentary attention of nearby drinkers before they resumed their drunken gossip and Varka collected himself.
There was no way he was thinking about that mysterious fae she mentioned! It's not like he had no idea she was talking about definitely didn't want to know just a little, teensy tiny bit of clarification. Why else would he schedule an appointment? He was definitely, absolutely, most surely not losing sleep over this.
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"Varka, you're too drunk," Flins commented, supporting the drunken knight currently splayed over his shoulder as they walked through the streets of Nasha Town.
Varka turned his head to face the lightkeeper, suddenly aware of their proximity, whining, "gi'mme a kiss."
"You've asked for that since we began the drinking roulette game and I've said no multiple times," Flins deadpanned, making a sharp turn into an alleyway.
"But--!"
Suddenly, Varka felt something briefly press against his lips and with the the lingering scent of wine, but before Flins, could pull away, Varka grabbed his face and kissed back.
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"Oh, sorry," she unapologetically apologized, "I just thought you wanted to know more about what I mentioned last time."
"Well," Varka coughed, "while you're here, I wouldn't mind..."
Nefer gave him a knowing look but, saving his poor ego, didn't press further. She thought for a moment, choosing her words carefully before something clicked in her head and she smirked.
"For starters," she said, "faes can't eat food the way normal humans do, since don't have digestive organs. Thankfully, they can drink, and so oftentimes indulge in drinking wines and such."
Varka furrowed his brow, visibly confused, but Nefer just laughed in response and continued: "normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but for a fae trying to blend in with humans, it would pose a huge issue."
She watched the poor knight struggle and nearly pop a vein out his forehead, briefly feeling bad for his obliviousness.
Sighing in mild disappointment, she questioned, "you really don't know who I'm talking about?"
"No!" Varka complained.
"Wow, you really don't," she teasingly agreed, amazed, "well, do you more the complementary color of yellow?"
Varka opened just mouth to speak, but Nefer quickly answered herself, "of course you don't. Why did I even bother asking?"
"Hey! What does that mean?"
She huffed triumphantly, pointing out, "see, you don't know anything."
"Nefer, if you're gonna make fun of me this whole time, I'd rather go," Varka whined, taking another drink from his glass.
"It's purple."
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His shiny hair looked like moonlight incarnate, a purplish-blue with ends that seemed to glow under the dim, buzzing street lights; that, contrasted with the blacks and silver detailings on him clothes, made him appear even more ethereal.
Varka vaguely remembered pulling on the long hair, turning what was originally a peck on the lips into a passionate the kiss between the two. He could feel hands gripping at his neck and shoulders as Varka broke out the kiss, biting Flins’s lip before he trailed down Flins’s face before being rudely interrupted by the large piece of fabric walling around Flins’s neck.
“Flins, I can barely kiss you with your huge collar!” Varka whined, pawing at the fabric surrounding the other’s neck.
"You’re so weird," Flins huffed, "why would you kiss someone’s neck?"
“It’s not weird! It’s cute!”
He could’ve sworn he heard a ‘humans are so weird’ from Flins.
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Hiding his blush creeping up, on his cheeks, he asked, "you don't mean..?"
No way that beautiful man was a fae. Faes were like, immortal, right? Is it legal to have an 100+ year age difference if you’re both consenting adults? Varka hoped so.
"Huh? It's not like I can know what you're thinking," Nefer replied, feigning innocence.
In the next instant, the doors of the Flagship slammed open by a random girl, which wouldn't be a problem in itself, but then she started running right towards their booth...?
"Boss Nefer!!" the girl said, huffing and puffing like she ran from Mondstadt to Liyue, "I have--uh--important things! Very important things! To tell and know! Wait no, not know!"
Varka face a pointed look at the new guest to Nefer, the unspoken question of the guest's identity lingering in the air.
"Sorry, Grandmaster," Nefer said, "this is my little secretary of the sorts. It seems I have work to do."
"No problem-o," Varka replied, "I was planning on calling it a night, too."
He waved her off before finishing his drink and walking up to the bar to pay his bill.
Demyan rang him up and casually said, "that'll be 45,000 mora."
"What!?" Varka yelped, the shock sobering him up immediately. Suddenly, he remembered the empty drink glass left in Nefer’s place; the same drink glass which held the most expensive drink in the whole establishment.
“Damn you,” he muttered, forking over the money and dejectedly leaving the Flagship, swindled by the catlike lady once again.
He’d have to wait for updates from her later, but in the meantime, Varka had a lighthouse to visit.
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Jahoda awkwardly tailed behind Nefer as they walked through the streets of Nasha Town back to the Curatorium of Secrets, thinking of a cover story. Ugh, how did she even end up in this situation!? If Boss finds out about Jahoda’s scheming, she’ll be fired—no, Nefer will probably get a hitman on her and kill her! Oh, how disdainful. If she gets caught, she’ll blame it all on Lauma and the weird Ratnik’s fault! Yes, great idea, Jahoda!
“Jahoda, are you listening?” Nefer asked, snapping her assistant out of her thoughts. Oh crap, Nefer had turned her head to look straight at her!
”Oh, yes Boss, very much Boss,” Jahoda retorted a little too fast, slapping her hand over her mouth when she realized. Nefer's snake eyes glazed over Jahoda's body before staring right into Jahoda's soul.
On her face was the most unnerving smile Jahoda had ever seen as Nefer sweetly asked, "you're not hiding anything from me, right?"
Sorry, Lauma and Weirdo! Jahoda valued her life over a promise, and between them and boss, it was obvious who was more threatening!
"Just kidding," Nefer added shortly after, snapping Jahoda out her manic state.
Jahoda let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as Nefer turned back and continued walking.
Moons above, that was far too close for comfort. At least she was off the hook for now. With Nefer preoccupied with walking ahead, Jahoda scrambled to find the small piece of parchment she had written on and hidden in her mini shorts. She squinted, attempting to tad out the words written in a hurried frenzy.
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JAHODA SPY MISSION!!! find any info about the wild hunt and a guy named rerir
- white hair
- black bandages
- weirdo!!!
- red eye and weird chest thing
report back to lauma and maybe weird guy
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Reading it over and over again, she quietly mourned: why did Lauma even want her to gather information? She knew it had some relation with the fae's lantern, but she couldn't find any correlation between the two elements.
Ugh, Lauma and the weird fae owed Jahoda one after this!
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Varka, back in his depressing little room in the Knights of Favonius's building in the outskirts of Nasha Town, found himself poking at papers once again. It was ineffable how much he wished to swing his sword at some good ol' hilichurls or treasure hoarders, but no, the oh-so-great Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius was once again stuck doing monotonous paperwork!
On top of that, he had so many questions for Flins, but once again, he was trapped. After his short departure from his duties days ago, the other knights took it upon themselves to lock the door and move Blythe to another station (who was innocent!) to prevent him from leaving.
Then, he remembered there could be windows in the room, so he looked around for an embarrassingly long amount of time before realizing there was literally a window behind his desk setup.
He huffed, getting up from the creaky wooden chair he was sitting on and grabbed his sword, previously idly leaning against a dusty shelf. Then, he opened the window, coughing as the dust entered his nostrils, and threw his sword out the window before he shimmied his body through the opening.
Escape success!
Waltzing through the mildly familiar streets of Nasha Town, Varka noticed how strangely empty it seemed, albeit he wasn't at the center. Still, the silence was eerily foreboding, but Varka's many questions were soon answered by the approaching sounds of someone crying out for help.
The approaching person, dressed in clothes reminiscent of Fontaine, dashed by Varka before pausing and backpedaling.
"What are you doing!?" the man skittishly asked, "the Wild Hunt is here!"
Varka put his hand on the man's shoulder, feeling the shaking body beneath his palm, before reassuring, "don't worry, I'm the Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius. I got this!"
"The what?" Varka's jaw nearly dropped. How does someone not know what the Knights of Favonius is!? Especially the grandmaster!
"Nevermind!" Varka said, effectively shutting the man up as he swung just comically large greatsword, "point where the monsters are, and I'll clear 'em all out!"
The man still felt unsure but nevertheless pointed Varka to the direction he just came from (which, in hindsight, was obvious…) Varka turned to thank the man but he had already taken off once again, as swift as Varka’s finest horses from Mondstadt. Too bad he wasn’t a horse.
After, Varka began walking in the direction when he stopped around the border of Nasha Town felt malicious energy in the air, chills suddenly wracking throughout his body. He felt the air go still and weigh heavy on his body, the only thing stopping him from turning around and running being his pure willpower. Then, he saw it: a huge rift in space, monsters pouring out from a gash in the space and time of Teyvat as he knew. Locking eyes with the abyssal creatures, he lifted his claymore, ready to swing.
At first, cutting through the monsters was like butter, and coordinating his attacks with the power of anemo (thank Barbatos for his vision!) made the creatures of the Wild Hunt drop like flies. Just when he thought he was done, though, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a monster getting back up. It was quite hard to see with the
”I’m sure I sliced its head off,” he grumbled to himself in disbelief, watching more and more of the monsters he had previously defeated reassemble themselves (that’s bullshit!) and look good as new.
The worst part wasn’t even here yet, because even more monsters were coming! The portal to archons-know-where opened back up, spitting out even more grotesque creatures, and it wasn’t long before these creatures started overpowering Varka. He had switched from hyperoffensive tactics to staying in the defense, the overpowering numbers against him quickly showing their impact on the tides of the battle. He had no choice but to block with his weapon, but blocking an attack from a creature with his large claymore left his back wide open, and it was only a matter of time before another undead creature would sneak up on him and strike.
Unfortunately, that time was right now, as Varka felt a sharp pain in his back consisting of three claw marks slashed on his back. He fell to one knee, vision going blurry as the creatures of the Wild Hunt surrounded him. If he died right here and now, he could confidently say he had many, many regrets accumulated throughout his life, but before he could start listing them off, he was saved.
”Beware creatures of the night,” a soft, familiar voice sounded like a beacon in the fog. As the monsters collapsed and the fog dissipated around Varka, he found himself watching Flins, holding an oddly long spear in his hand, barehandedly purify the abyssal rift before turning to face his companion.
Varka didn’t know if he was imagining things, but Flins seemed more… tired.
“Good seeing you alive,” Flins calmly said, spinning his long polearm as it vanished into light particles, “Grandmaster Varka.”
“You too, Flins,” Varka greeted, wiping blood of his split lip. Then, his recently acquired memories graced his mind once again, pictures of the two kissing assaulting his vision as he turned pink. Flins then offered his hand to Varka, in which the other gratefully accepted, and pulled him up from the ground.
“We should talk,” Flins suddenly said, surprising Varka. He thought he’d be the one intiating this, but thank the archons he spared himself the possible embarassment.
Many words were regrettably left unsaid, but both were sure of what the other wanted to say.
“Yeah, we should.”