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Tartaglia had never seen so much grey in his life. Why was everything so… dull? He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand.
Black tar bled from her chest — logically, he knew it was supposed to be red but it wasn’t — the sight of it gripped his heart with cold dread instead of his usual warm satisfaction of defeating a worthy opponent.
He is moving before he can think about it — bundling Lumine’s limp body into his arms, ignoring the drip, drip, drip of the black tar, staining everything in it’s wake that disgusting grey and worst of all, taking Lumine’s warmth with it.
Was it always so cold in Liyue? It doesn’t matter, he needs to keep moving — that’s always how he’s lived, never content on staying idle for too long. He takes one step, and another, and another. He needs to go... go where again?
He may not know, but his body seems to.
His body moves without him — as if he had blacked out. He doesn’t know how much time has passed and he sure as hell doesn’t know how he got here, but by the time he’s aware of his surroundings again, he’s on the cold, cold floor, on his knees in front of the Tsaritsa. The Tsaritsa, whose long beautiful white hair should be tinged a beautiful sky blue is tinged grey. He is starting to hate the color grey.
Tartaglia holds his breath as the Tsaritsa presses her lips to Lumine’s forehead, a soft icy blue glow enveloping her body. The wound on her chest closes up and a talisman with a light blue inscription flutters into existence on her forehead.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦
He hates the pity in the Tsaritsa’s eyes as he waits for Lumine to wake up. He hates how disappointed he feels when Lumine’s eyes flutter open — and they’re so dull and grey — Archons, did he hate the color grey. He hates that the colors of the world did not return to him when Lumine awoke. He hates that he would never see her beautiful shades of golds ever again. But above all else, he hated himself. For doing this to her. For doing this to them.
When Lumine wakes up, she has no memory of him. Or anyone else. Or of anything.
A fresh slate.
Was this a curse or a blessing? Tartaglia did not know.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦
Lumine, Hero of Mondstadt. Turned Lumine, the Tsaritsa’s newest weapon of war.
Tartaglia has never had wasted time to regret or doubt so he won’t now. Reviving Lumine as a jiangshi was infinitely better than putting her cold lifeless body into the ground.
But perhaps this was what regret felt like. Reviving Lumine was a double edged sword — it hurt to see her dead, but it also hurt to see her live like this.
He doesn’t know if he’s living a dream or a nightmare. How he’d dream of fighting by Lumine’s side — he wasn’t kidding when he said he’d like to join her in her adventurers — they could conquer Teyvat together. But he didn’t want to fight alongside her like this. Not like this.
Tartaglia hates seeing her graceful movements in black, white, and grey. The shadows are encroaching upon his mind — he’s starting to forget the exact shade of gold of her eyes, the sound of her voice, the tinkle of her laugh, the way her mouth curled into a small smile, the charming way her eyes lit up when she tasted something delicious, the way she said his name —
His world has become devoid of color and life.
So, he dons his mask and throws himself into his Fatui duties, taking on every task, decimating every enemy he encounters on his way. The less time he had to think, the better.
He doesn’t want to think about the fact he cannot face his family like this. He cannot go home and pretend to be ‘Ajax’ for ‘Ajax’ is dead — killed by the Eleventh Harbinger’s own hands.
The day that Tartaglia brought Lumine’s body, so cold and so grey, to the Tsaritsa, is the day ‘Ajax’ dies.
‘Ajax’ dreamed of a happily ever after with his soulmate. Tartaglia knew that when he joined the Fatui, happiness would be hard to find. He thought that he would be fine — he had his two solaces in life: his family and the exhilaration of fighting. That was enough for him.
After all, happily ever after’s didn’t exist for ‘bad guys’ like him.
But bad guys can lie.
So he does.
He lies in his letters home — he writes saying he can’t return a little longer, for his job is keeping him busy — when in reality, he cannot bring himself to go home. He knows if he does, the second his mother lays eyes on him, she’ll see through his smile — that something is wrong, that he could no longer be Ajax. (Ajax was never a good liar after all — Tartaglia wasn’t much better.)
But the truth is — he doesn’t want to see his family tainted in this awful grey — he wants to remember them with color and brightness and warmth for as long as he can.
Colors — he is haunted by the memory of them — dreaming half in color and half in dull, dull grey — he misses Lumine and her beautiful colors.
Lumine, bright Lumine, whose fighting made him buzz with excitement. Lumine, who would scowl at him in suspicion but would occasionally grace him with a genuine smile that would take his breath away. Lumine, whose hair sparkled in the light, looking angelic under the beautiful Liyue skies. Lumine, his soulmate.
But this Lumine wasn’t his Lumine — this Lumine was a mere fragment of who she used to be, now reduced to a doll that only follows orders and fights without a care to her own self. She doesn’t care for dressing her wounds, or changing out of dirty, ragged clothes — Tartaglia has to care for her — she was his responsibility now after all.
He dedicates himself to her, dressing Lumine for long days at work and dressing her for bed at night. He works efficiently and smoothly, hands not lingering more than he has to. But if his heart twinges every time he catches a glimpse of the bright scar on her chest, no one has to know but him.
There’s nothing romantic about them sleeping together, just Tartaglia tucking himself into her, his head on her chest. He listens for a heartbeat that isn’t there — the silence keeps him awake, thoughts heavy with what could’ve been.
(Would he have ever realized they were soulmates if she was still alive? Wasn’t he a terrible soulmate, undeserving of her, as he hasn’t shed a single tear since her death? He, who ended his own soulmate’s life?)
The darkness of the night brings time to think, things he doesn’t want to think about. How the thrill of fighting and getting stronger doesn’t get him fired up, how assignments are tedious, how lonely he feels without seeing his family for weeks — no months now —
The Abyss couldn’t break him, but this? He feels like he’s slowly losing himself.
He would sooner rather face the Abyss again than live like this.
A soft hand brushes his head, fingers threading through his hair. Lumine doesn’t understand, but she does it anyway — her cold, cold, grey fingers stroke his hair gently, lulling him into a deep restless sleep.
He knows he doesn’t deserve this soft comfort, but he hopes he dreams of her smile tonight.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦
They’re camping out on their travels in Liyue, when one of his Fatui agents comes running frantically. As if he were being chased.
“Master Tartaglia! It’s an emergency —”
It’s all he gets out before he is cut down.
A figure appears in front of him. A young boy with long braided hair.
He flicks Fatui blood off his blade, his lip curling in distaste. He makes quite a sight covered in Fatui blood.
He looks up and looks at him — no, through him.
The boy has no eyes for him, he stares at something behind him.
“…Lumine…?” the boy breathes out.
A quick glimpse of fury is all Tartaglia gets before he’s slammed into the ground, hand at his throat.
“Fatui.” he snarls “What. Did. You. Do?!”
Hydro blades form in his hands, forcing the boy to jump back. But the boy is agile and soon enough, their blades clash furiously.
Tartaglia wonders if he should recognize this boy.
(He feels like he should.)
The boy proves to be a strong opponent despite his small stature. Soon enough, his blade is pressed against Tartaglia’s neck. There is no tremor in his hand, no blood would be drawn unless he willed it. This isn’t the first time he’s killed.
The blade presses into his skin, drawing blood. “Before I kill you — tell me. Did you kill my little sister?”
Tartaglia blinks. Ahhh… He could see their resemblance now, their fiery eyes, and he tries to imagine her gold on him…
He could only be one person.
“Aether.”
The boy startles — as if he hasn’t been called by that name in a long time — centuries perhaps? Tartaglia takes that split second to escape from death’s door.
“Slippery, slimy Fatui scum!” Aether spits out a curse, lunging again into battle.
Tartaglia sends a flurry of hydro blades at Aether, hoping to gain a little more distance between the two of them.
But in the end, everything was futile.
Aether catches a hydro blade in mid air, gives it a twirl, and sends it hurtling back at him with incredible force.
Tartaglia already knows he won’t be able to dodge it. So instead, he watches.
His own hydro blade splits air, whistling as it moves towards him. It’s mesmerizing how beautifully it slides in the air.
A body blocks his vision and then — he is drowning.
Was this world so cruel to have him watch her die twice?
Tartaglia shakily reaches out for Lumine, but is pushed back by something. He faintly registers pain in his chest. He looks down. Oh.
This time, this time at least, they would go together.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦
When the Fatui Harbringer breathed his last breath, the hydro blades disintegrate with the wind along with Lumine’s talisman.
Aether gently repositions Lumine’s body on the ground, brushing her eyelids close. Like this, it was as if she was only sleeping.
“Lumine...” he calls out softly. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead. “Farewell dear sister. Do not fear, for I will avenge you.”
He watches as her body bursts into soft lights — like fireflies floating away, winking into nothingness.
With a soft sigh, he gets up, letting the cold fury bloom in his chest.
“You will not be lonely in the afterworld for soon, Teyvat will fall.”
A world that killed Lumine, his best friend, his other half, his only living family member didn’t deserve to exist.
He would let the Abyss swallow Teyvat whole.