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Sumeru City is much different at night than it is during the day, Lumine concludes.
It’s quieter for one. There’s much less hustle and bustle and bartering and stealing and whatever else you experience in a large city like Sumeru. The lanterns have come on, like fireflies on a summer night, winking brighter. The amount of people on the streets has thinned out to a meager few and some merchants still open for business. Lumine doesn’t explore at night to shop, nor to sneak about, she does it just because she wants to. Because there’s hardly any people staring at her with questions in their gazes. Because the heat of the day is no longer there, bearing down on her back like a weight, along with the notion that her brother is asleep somewhere, and that Khaenri’ah is destroyed. She tries to not let herself think about that last part often.
It’s not like Mondstadt, with drunkards hanging about and stumbling home. Sumeru has its own folks like that, but the city is just so large, they get lost in the shadows.
Sumeru City feels like a fairy tale to Lumine. She likes Port Ormos, and she likes Ghandarva Ville and Vimara Village. But there’s something about the city, the striking beauty and hidden character that lingers within it. Not to mention the sights and architecture and plants. It’s like something straight out of a light novel. And she wishes, so desperately wishes that she could understand the feeling it gives her when she strolls the streets at night with Dainsleif at her side. She can’t explain it. It’s something otherworldly.
She doesn’t spend much of her time outside though, even at night. Instead, she spends it in the House of Daena.
The House of Daena is open all day, all night, every day of the week. And so she finds herself there often with her stoic travel companion, even though the past few nights Dain has looked more exasperated every time she’s mentioned it. She’s told him many times that he doesn’t have to go with her, that he can get drunk in the Tavern or go to sleep in their shared inn if he so wishes. But he refuses and accompanies her anyway.
She’s not exactly sure why. Perhaps he’s worried she’ll get herself into trouble. That was a valid reason for concern, she tended to do that often.
(She hopes it’s just because he likes to spend time with her. Even though most of that time is spent with her nose buried in some book.)
He hardly ever reads anything. Lumine thought that was strange, he seemed like an intelligent man that would read often. Then she remembers his occupation, or what was his occupation. Captain of the Royal Guard. He didn’t have time to read then, perhaps he still is in that habit of protecting, guarding, and watching, rather than enjoying life. She understands, though. It’s hard to change when you grew up in a single role.
They’re in the House of Daena now, with Lumine, as always, scouring the shelves for something about the Abyss, something about Maranara. Dain, however, stands to the side, swinging his sword about rigidly. The scholars look at him with disdain but he pays them no mind.
“Do you have to do that right now?” She asks absentmindedly, flipping through a book. Witches, hexes, love poems? Weird. She shuts it and puts it back on the shelf, then reads the spines of the books on the shelf below.
“I’m not sure what else I am to do,” he replies with a twist of his sword.
“You could, I don’t know, leave? Go fight something? You don’t have to be here.”
“You say that every time we’re here.”
“And you for some reason choose to stay.”
Dain looks over and up at her, his starry eyes blank, “I’d rather be here.”
Internally, the words hit her like a sack of bricks. He doesn’t understand that such a meager sentence could send her reeling. However, on the outside, Lumine rolls her eyes, “Well alright, but people are looking at us.”
“You are quite distracting, my lady,” he replies, and Lumine stumbles a bit on her ladder, the words catching her off guard. How he manages to short-circuit her brain, she will never understand.
“I was talking about you,” she huffs and drops a book down, hoping it cracks him on the head. He, of course, smoothly catches it.
“Hmm, perhaps they’re just hoping to learn some of my techniques,” he replies. And it’s so monotone, so serious that she almost actually believes him. Perhaps he was serious.
“You are so strange.”
“I know. You tell me often.”
They spend most of the night in the House of Daena. Dainsleif finally halts his sword practice and resolves to sit next to Lumine at one of the tables once she’s found what she’s been looking for, and reads over her shoulder.
“The Aranara?” He says, his voice quiet and rumbling next to her ear. Lumine tries to ignore the warmth radiating from him as he lays an arm behind her chair, leaning in close.
She’s reading a scholarly article she found in the archives about The Withering, a phenomena that has been plaguing Sumeru for quite some time, and might even have expanded elsewhere. That is what she is looking for—the “elsewhere”. Where else has it been? Could it have been what the Khaenri’ahns were fighting against, rather than just the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles?
The article mentions the Aranara, forest spirits of some kind that only live on in children’s stories, and how they are familiar with the phenomenon. She’s certain she’s heard of them before, somewhere somehow. Perhaps they’d help her with her mission.
“I think we should go look for them,” she says at last.
“You think they’re real?” He asks, genuinely confused.
“Kids may lie often, but those lies are usually built on some kind of truth. Maybe the Aranara aren’t forest spirits, but they exist.”
Dain’s face hardens, “You may be right, but The Withering is not something we can mess around with. We must be diligent about this.”
Lumine turns toward him, “Dain, I’ve mastered 4 of the elements, I think I can handle a bit of ‘Withering’.”
Dain shakes his head, “I believe in your strength, I just ask that we be careful. You should be careful.”
Lumine softens at that. Sometimes Dain could be difficult to travel with. He is stoic, he cracks jokes sometimes, and though it happens rarely and usually only in private, they are funny. However, that hardly matters as his overall gloomy appearance often makes people wary of him. Thankfully, Lumine’s warm and friendly atmosphere makes her more approachable. Though Dain is not the best travel partner when it comes to speaking with others, she still loves traveling with him. He genuinely cares for her and wants her to be safe. He knows how much her brother means to her, and wants to help her carry out her mission of finding him.
“I will be careful Dain, especially with you there fighting alongside me,” she says. Although she is usually very good at making sure she has self-control, sometimes she slips. Her eyes can’t help but drift down to his lips.
No matter how many times she’s told herself that falling in love was absolutely, most certainly not allowed… She can’t help but feel something for Dain. And it is terrible. Truly terrible, because she knows that one day she’ll leave this world and never see him again. But all this time they’ve spent together made her feelings for him unbearable. She can’t help herself.
“Of course,” he breathes and her gaze rises to his own. His eyes watch her curiously, almost expectant. Lumine tries not to read too much into it.
She shoves away her thoughts and drags her eyes back to the pages in front of her.
“Alright, so,” she sucks in a breath, “When should we go?”
Dain leans back in his chair, the wood creaking, “Whenever you wish. But don’t we deserve some time to relax before we go, since we’ve been here so often?”
Lumine stands abruptly, “Aha! So you admit it, you don’t want to be here!”
Dain runs a hand down his face and chuckles, “That’s not what I’m saying.”
Lumine rolls the scroll back up and ties the parchment with a ribbon and smiles to herself, “It’s alright Dain, I get it. You just lack patience. I understand.”
Dain grabs her wrist and pulls her close, and Lumine’s breath catches.
“I have plenty of patience.”
His eyes stare back into hers, blue against amber. Right. The curse.
Lumine’s face flushes in embarrassment and partly shame, and she pulls herself out of his grip. He lets go easily. She clears her throat, “Right. Of course. Maybe just not in reading.” The joke falls flat between them.
She had plenty of patience, too. Her brother was missing after all.
Dain stands and stretches out, the curves of his arms visible without his cape covering them. Lumine’s eyes betray her as she stares at his blackened arm and the blue lines climbing up from his wrist. His curse was getting worse, even though it was a very slow process. She wishes she could help him, save him, destroy the one who did this to him. He grabs the cape from where it hangs over his chair and looks to Lumine, seemingly unbothered. She didn’t understand him. Sometimes she wishes she could climb into his head, witness all that he did, just so she could know what to say and how to say it.
“Well? Where to now?” He asks.
“You’re right about relaxing. Perhaps we should go to that tavern, a drink sounds nice,” she says, still flustered and starts toward the librarian to borrow the scroll.
She doesn’t hear Dainsleif sigh from behind her, nor does she notice him quietly beating himself up for ruining the moment.
He hadn’t meant it that way. He hadn’t meant to make her feel ashamed for anything, especially when it wasn’t her fault. But still, Dain was not an expert with words, especially when it came to Lumine. He was bound to mess things up, it was in his blood.
He hopes that somehow he can make it up to her.
He wishes he had held onto her wrist, had told her he was joking, told her that he liked reading, he just didn’t know how to pick it up again. He wishes he had told her that he cherished every moment they shared, even if they weren’t speaking.
But Dain is a coward, so he follows her silently out of the library and into the night.