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Dainsleif was a hindrance to the highest degree. He was the man she loved and the man who would stand in her way simply to oppose her.
So, for once, she did as her teacher had taught her. In the blood-soaked field where they had met, now a makeshift graveyard for those who had not turned to ashes, she had cut away all the strings, save one, that had bound her to him.
The lone Inteyvat flower that grew where he would rest for all of eternity would wither with the passage of time.
The lone Inteyvat flower that she had weaved into her hair would serve as a reminder of all she stood for her.
From now on, she had but one purpose to fulfill.
“Goodbye, Dainsleif,” she said, her voice devoid of any warmth she had provided him in the past. “May we never meet again.”
Stepping into Abyss, she did not look back.
A series of loosely-related, non-chronological snippets featuring Dainsleif and Lumine, through their time in Khaenri'ah and Teyvat--both before and after the fall of the kingdom they both loved. For Dainslumi Week