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Ajax was 14 when he was taken under the Tsaritsa’s wings. He was bloodied and beaten when the Tsaritsa first found him, no one was sure whether the blood on his face was his own or the unnamed men’s scattered by his feet, gashes on their faces making them unrecognizable. Though the other agents behind her looked scared and appalled at the scene, Tsaritsa only smiled in response.
“Would you like to burn the old world for me?”
“Yes.”
That was the day Ajax died and Tartaglia was born. Tartaglia, the Tsaritsa’s youngest Harbinger, the Tsaritsa’s vanguard, the Tsaritsa’s cold-blooded killer, the Tsaritsa’s loyal watchdog.
-
To say Tartaglia is favored by the Tsaritsa was an understatement because she absolutely adored him. She appointed him the Harbinger title at his 2nd year of joining the syndicate, a title for the strongest, most powerful, and highest-ranking members of the syndicate, the top echelons, and Tsaritsa’s most powerful lieutenants who have been given absolute authority.
And in return, Tartaglia swore his utmost loyalty to the Tsaritsa and Snezhnaya. His vow was proven true as he spent the next few years carrying out Tsaritsa’s wishes, assassinating political figures who threatened the syndicate, annihilating rebellion villagers, and anyone or anything who stands in the way of the syndicate, not caring whether they’re men, women, or children.
All in all, he was the perfect weapon, a killing machine, all for the Tsaritsa to use and exploit.
-
Tsaritsa was seated on a bench in her indoor garden with Tartaglia behind her, a diamond-studded collar innocently sit around his neck with the syndicate’s insignia hanging on the D-ring on the center of the collar, and a leash with its end loosely held in Tsaritsa’s delicate hand. A collar, given to him by Tsaritsa as a gift after she caught him sneaking out one night. To the naked eye, it was a sign of possession. That he is hers . And that much is true, but to Tartaglia, it was an act of punishment.
“Tartaglia, you know what we do to traitors, don’t you?”
To others, it was an innocent question. But to Tartaglia, he knew there was something more to it. And as he felt the leash lightly tugged, he nearly stumbled in his position but at the end held ground and managed a quick nod as he dipped his head down in a bow towards the Tsaritsa, “Yes, I do.”
“Then I hope you will stop sneaking out at night.”
Now, Tartaglia fears no men or women. He was the Tsaritsa’s weapon, a cold-blooded killer who didn’t flinch when he decapitated a mother in front of her child. But at this moment, the side glance Tsaritsa gave him, the way her icy blue eyes pierced his own, Tartaglia felt the hairs on his neck stand and he could only nod stiffly.
-
The fall of Snezhnaya’s biggest crime syndicate, the Fatui, is one for the history books.
“Tsaritsa it’s been a while,” a deep voice rumbled, in the supposedly empty throne room as a male with bright amber eyes and golden tipped brown hair sat atop Tsaritsa’s throne, “Your throne room is rather comfortable, you wouldn’t mind if I take it from you, right?”
“Morax,” Tsaritsa calmly smiled, keeping still as her agents crowd around her with their guns out, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Morax grinned toothily, watching in amusement as the Tsaritsa’s men appeared in record time, guns up and stances ready to fire at command. His attention, however, was entirely on the redhead behind Tsaritsa. With a snap of his fingers, two figures appeared from the back of the throne, a short male with green streaks in his otherwise pitch-black hair and a female with blue hair, their guns out.
“You broke your contract. We had a deal, Tsar. I let you run Snezhnaya as you see fit and cover your tracks when I can from Celestia, and in return, you keep your spies away from Liyue.”
The serene smile on Tsaritsa's face was immediately gone as she processed Morax’ words. How could he have known that? There was only one person who she ordered to stay in Liyue. No one else knew that she had sent eyes out for a lookout. But during the time she tried to wrap her head around what happened, she felt something splatter against her face, followed by the sounds of bodies falling around her and the cold muzzle of a gun behind her head.
“Tartaglia, after all that I have done for you?”
“Pray tell, Tsar, just what have you done for him?” Morax answered instead, tilting his head in feign question before stood up and walked towards Tsaritsa. As he calmly made his way towards her, his eyes never left Tartaglia’s face and he couldn’t help the soft smile that momentarily took over his features which took Tsaritsa by surprise, she didn’t think that Morax, head of the Liyuen syndicate was even capable of smiling.
Reaching behind Tsaritsa, Morax gently grasped Tartaglia’s arm as he moved the male to stand in front of his leader with the gun’s muzzle on the woman’s forehead, “I can see why you favored him. You always do have an interesting eye to beauty,” Morax murmured, wrapping an arm around Tartaglia’s waist from behind before his hand travelled up the man’s torso and to his neck, fingers toying with the insignia dangling on the D-ring, “The Queen’s Watchdog, huh? Did you know this one has a sharp tongue? He bites, too.”
Tsaritsa could only watch in silence as her eyes dart to every corner of the room, her hands balled into fists as she could hear the echoing gunshots throughout the hallways of her palace, “I’m surprised you’ve never muzzled him,” Morax muses, yanking the insignia off the D-ring as he let it drop to ground with a clang, “He won’t be needing that anymore,” at that, Morax’s hand digs into his pockets and pull out his syndicate’s insignia, a diamond-shaped cor lapis with the form of a dragon engraved on the ore which is encased in an octagonal border with diamond arrows accented corners, and carefully attaches it to the D-ring before in his hand, holds another thing. A muzzle.
“Tell me, would you let me put this on you? Will you swear your loyalty to me?”
Tartaglia spared Morax and the muzzle a side glance before his sharp blue eyes focused on Tsaritsa’s once again, the same pair of eyes he once swore loyalty to all those years ago, “Yes,” he answers, aiming his gun down and shot his former boss’s leg, a manic grin taking over his features once again as his fingers twitched at the adrenaline coursing through him.
Morax pressed a quick kiss on Tartaglia’s jaw as he looked down at Tsaritsa, and if looks could kill, the Tsaritsa would be dead on the floor with a single gunshot wound to her leg as she kneeled in her own pool of blood. I’ve won , he mouthed as he carefully secured the muzzle over Tartaglia’s mouth and fastens the strap behind his head.
“Finish her, Ajax.”
-
During the next annual meeting with all the syndicate heads of Teyvat present, no one dared question the absence of Tsaritsa, nor did anyone there question why a familiar red-head with bright blue eyes is now seated comfortably on Morax’s lap, the muzzle still secured over his mouth as the new insignia that hangs from his collar shines brightly under the lights.