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Her birthday has ended. On a cloudy night that obscured the brilliance of the stars, surrounded by naught but the wailing mountains of Dragonspine, she threw herself across the surface of the pitch-black lake, sheers of illuminating frost following each unbridled stride—the beginnings of a ferocious dance. The figure thrashed in the air, leaping and twisting, crunching into ice that sprayed as she skidded, unconcerned for the all-devouring depths that loomed beneath.
It was aristocratic etiquette to dance on one’s birthday. Long before the practice was smeared black and ill by elitist filth, to dance was to celebrate life; to express one’s joys and sorrows; and to bare one’s soul in a prayer with the world as one’s altar. To dance on the day of one’s birth, especially hand-in-hand with a lover, was to seek the blessing of ancestors (not that the Lawrence clan had any to spare) and share it between themselves; for lovers to become family in all but name.
However, today, Eula danced for no one; desperately for someone; even though her birthday had already ended. What did it mean to dance when the intended recipient was absent?
Eula was like a bride whose marriage ended before it had even begun. She was going to confess her love to Amber. She had rehearsed it over and over to perfection, to ensure that she could grant themselves a lifetime’s worth of her own blessings; but Amber was not here. She was off linking arms with another; making merry; leaving Eula’s vows to hang off the tip of her tongue, her heart open and vulnerable to the biting frost. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt so much she might just ███.
In the darkness, Eula’s soul flickered like a candlelight against the hostile winds—battered and waning.
In the darkness, the faint twinkling caught the eye of Sister Rosaria, who had been out on a midnight prowl where light cared not to shine. Her polearm was carrying the scent of blood, wretched and foul, and she had intended to have the clear mountain waters wash it away, have the lifeless earth bear its grudges. However, it appeared that someone had occupied the lake before she could.
As she approached the lake anyway, Rosaria eventually identified the person in question, based on the show of sparkling ice and sophistication alone. No one else in Mondstadt but Eula Lawrence, the infamous Spindrift Knight, is capable of such a feat—dancing on thin ice even when no one was watching. It was not the first time the sister came across the wayward knight deep within the frosty outback of Mondstadt’s backyard, but never was she aware of her ability to dance, let alone put up such a hair-raising performance.
When Rosaria arrived within earshot of the dancer’s fury, so too did the latter’s outburst come to rest.
“Sister… To whom do I owe this pleasure for our acquaintance tonight?” Eula greeted with all but sincerity as she took no more than seven steps towards the nun. Despite the heat rising from her strained body, her tone remained bitter.
“Sir Knight.” Rosaria did not make any effort to conceal her blood-soaked weapon. “I had merely been spreading the word of our beloved archon, Lord Barsatatoes.” She walked closer to the water’s edge, intending to dip the blade of her polearm into the cleansing cold, locking gazes with the noble knight as she approached. Eventually, it seemed improper to let her weapon bleed into the lake and sully the knight’s ice-dusted heels. “It is rather late and the sisters will worry if I do not return soon, so I was just about to make my way back to Mondstadt.” Rosaria took to smearing the filth onto the snow instead, being watched as she worked languidly.
Once she was sure that the stench of blood would not raise any more alarms than a woman on her period, the sister remarked, “I didn’t think there would be a knight as capable of the arts as you, Sir. Your dance was rather moving.”
Eula quirked a brow, then raised her chin and huffed, declining to comment. She could not find it in her heart today to express herself cordially. Even her usual catchphrase was absent; swallowed for the umpteenth time since yesterday after an unexpected guest arrived in Mondstadt. Or should she say, returned? Either way, it should have been her special day, but she did not get to enjoy it herself.
Rosaria was aware that the knight was somehow displeased, but she had an inkling that it was not due to what she said. She would have been told to leave otherwise. “My apologies, dear knight. It seems that I may have overstepped my boundaries. Don’t mind me, I’ll make myself scarc—”
“Just Eula is fine,” The knight whispered, her voice barely registered when she turned around to return to the middle of the lake, but nothing has ever escaped Rosaria’s sharp hearing. The sister took it as permission to remain if she so wished.
Eula stopped short of the lake’s centre, bending over, taking deep breaths to fill her hollowed chest. Her lungs ached from the frigid winds, and her heart from the thorns of jealousy she could hardly withstand. Before her guilty conscience could crush her body, Eula lunged into a running start and leaped effortlessly into the air, where she swirled afloat into the eye of a storm—of her emotions running wild, threatening to hurt herself in her confusion. She landed harshly, one leg in pain bearing all her weight while the other escaped, spraying ice in a crescent around herself. Eula rasped in a moment of weakness, then growled—inflamed by the agony in her limbs, the fire in her blood, and the hatred that threatened to consume the kindness she swore to protect.
Only the bitterness of Dragonspine’s grudges were keeping her sanity in check, limiting how hot-headed she could become, as though a reminder to keep her grievances close to her wounded heart. So that she could exact her vengeances when the time comes and, oh, she definitely has a score to settle with a certain outrider. For all her transgressions, much too many to count…
The world smeared into a blur as tears churned in Eula’s eyes, spilling into beads disguised by the dazzling sprays of frost. Her throat clenched shut and forbade her from crying, even if it meant her heartache could not be carried away by the wind. The Anemo Archon would not have deigned to save her anyway, let alone care about the day of her birth. In fact, it would not be unusual for her only loved one to forget about her birthday as well. The blood of sinners flowed in her veins, after all.
The world cares not for sinners, therefore she must stay strong; she has to.
But she was crumbling; this time, she could not; she could not help but blame Amber for her own suffering.
Even as the ice cracked and shattered from the weight of her guilt, Eula could no longer muster the strength to push herself away from danger. Perhaps it was best if the world devoured her into nothingness just like it had always intended to—her final thought welling up her eyes anew as she fell backwards, en route for the bone-chilling darkness.
“Eula!!” Someone yelled sharply from the fringes of her consciousness, before she felt herself almost impaled by cryo that did not belong to her. It grazed into the side of her waist and struck something, then solidified into a disc around herself. Someone then slammed into the space around her, and held her up. One arm behind her back and another arm carrying her legs with uncompromising strength. Eula could feel warm gasps hitting her face, breathing vitality into her lips and lungs, but she was not ready to accept salvation even if it embraced her with more love than she had ever felt in her life.
"How dare you—!? Let me go, I’m not worthy!" Eula thrashed and thrashed, hitting the nun on the shoulders with clenched fists. Each strike trembled with the frailty she could no longer hide away, and they echoed with her heart's pleas for solace. Nevertheless, she was first taken back to solid ground, where she was then set down carefully.
"You'd think the clergy would be the one to decide that, my gentle knight." Rosaria removed an arm from the legs she carried and held Eula even closer to her chest, where her heart wept for the hero overcome by anguish. She had long lost her ability to cry, but that did not mean she could no longer feel another’s suffering or wish that her solidarity was a salve that could heal all wounds. "You've done no wrong."
"But I've let Amber down! I… I couldn’t e-even…" There were far too many words to spill all at once, each consonant a sharp hiccup that punched Eula right between the lungs. The clawed hand on her back began soothing her along her spine carefully, making sure not to rake into bare skin or hook into her chest garter by accident.
"Hold off that thought for a second and breathe , Eula Lawrence. The Outrider has been worried sick for you. If there was anything you did wrong, she isn’t aware of it," Rosaria murmured softly into Eula’s ear before easing both themselves into a less straining position—as Rosaria shifted to sit with her legs angled forward, she guided Eula to climb onto her lap and lean into a bear hug if she so wished; and she did, curling into the nook of the nun’s neck; and she bawled with all the pain that nearly pushed her beyond the point of no return.
Words of apology gradually trickled from Eula's lips, scattering upon Rosaria's being like snowflakes that fall from the Dragonspine alps—misshapen yet just as genuine. She apologised to Amber, for the jealousy she failed to contain; to the Knights, knowing that they would be disappointed if they found out what happened; to the unwitting guest—Collei—from Sumeru, whom she failed to welcome with open arms; and to the winds, for having to witness her folly.
Eventually, Eula released Rosaria from her needy embrace, a searing heat evident across the former's face. It was shameful that she had to be rescued from her moment of weakness, that anyone had to see her in that state. She should have known better; should have been strong enough not to rely on anyone else. It was like a slap in the face when the reality of the situation sank in. Admittedly, she deserved it, no matter what anybody else might say.
Unwilling to look the nun in the eye, the knight uttered carelessly, “Sister, listen, this is a one-off mista—”
“Eula.” Rosaria caressed one of her tear-stained cheeks, swiping across the streaks that began frosting at the edges. “You’ve had it rough, haven’t you?”
The troubled knight blinked in surprise, then pressed her face where her tears had left their mark. “Mhm.”
The duo shared a moment of silence within the ebb and flow of the mountain winds, before one of them whispered, “I-I… It’s silly of me b-but I was… Jealous. I loved Amber; she has always been by my side, supporting me even when the rest of Mondstadt… Just because of my ancestry. It… It’s actually my birthday today, but a good friend of hers came to visit, and… I can't believe her friend looked at me with nothing but disdain whenever I spoke.”
Eula had to pause—the breaths she took were sharp and stabbing, and they made her gasp each time. “I knew she had many friends, but… I didn’t expect there to be another person in her heart, and it had to be someone that hated me on sight. Someone who could take Amber away from me on… On the day it mattered the most. I-It’s not like my birth was anything worth celebrating but…”
“The Outrider loves you just as much as you love her, Eula.” Rosaria rubbed soothing circles into the small of the despondent woman’s back, below the chest garter. “She doesn’t look at the green girl the same way she does with you.”
“You think so…?” Eula’s worries rumbled in her throat as she twirled a finger into the nun’s hair absentmindedly.
“Around an hour ago, when you weren’t at Angel’s Share, she swore she would flip Dragonspine upside-down if it meant finding you again,” Rosaria hinted as she turned her eyes away from the trees in the distance, “Considering how much of an uproar she raised back then… She might actually come here.”
“W-Wait Amber, now? But…” Eula froze when she figured out how long she had been outside the city walls without a word to anyone. On the brink of a meltdown at the time, she had assumed no one cared where she went, even as night fell across the land. “Archons, I’ve warned her not to come here alone. What was she thinking?”
“About you, Sir Eula.” Rosaria took a deep breath; her mind was filled with a full-bodied scent of the sweet-tempered knight in her arms. “Only you.”
“Me… ” she sighed sorrowfully, “that silly goof, she didn’t have to. She should’ve known I’d be fine no matter where I went. I am a captain . There was no way I could be any less capable than an outrider. I’m not worth her attention, she should have focused on Collei, she has an illn—”
“My knight. " Eula could have sworn Rosaria had purred when she sank her claws into her jaw and angled her face upwards, despite the stern expression on her face. The nun’s rose-tinted eyes were unavoidable no matter where she tried to look. “You almost died . You were suffering just as much as anyone else could have, if not more.”
“I… I doubt Mondstadt would have missed me even if I had lost my life,” Eula muttered in defeat. She no longer had the energy to argue against the nun, but she felt like she had to say it.
“... But I would’ve missed you, Sir Eula,” Rosaria sighed as she released her grip, cradling the baby-blue hair of the woman who chose to hide in her chest. Only the heavens was privy to the expression she made as she confessed wistfully, “I would've missed your companionship at Angel’s Share, even if we’ve only ever shared the same space and nothing more; traces of your existence in the dead of the night when nothing but dread ever seemed to exist in the world; and the positive effect you have on everyone around you, even if you aren’t aware of them yourself… And the Outrider—and those that cherished you—would've been heartbroken were they to find out that you’re forever gone.”
The knight gulped weakly—Eula drank the fiery warmth that trickled down her throat, not knowing they were the tears she shed after hearing what Rosaria had to say. Her eyes remained open, staring at the wine-coloured veil that stood out against the nun’s pale neck, wondering why the edges were blurring and smearing. Above all else, her body—her ears, her skull, her eyes, her cheeks, her hands, the skin tightly embraced in fabric and leather—suddenly broke out into a searing heat. Her mind was giddy and her thoughts were spinning, but Eula gulped it all up, and it was all making her heart pound like crazy.
"Why are you being so nice to me, Sister? I… I’ve never even caught your name…" the knight eventually choked, burying her face further away from view. She could feel her tears tracing hotly down her cheeks yet again.
“‘Rosaria’.”
“What?”
“My name. Now you’ve caught it.” A ghost of a wry smile played on Rosaria's lips. It may have been possible that she had never existed in Eula’s world till today. Despite the ache in the cavity of her chest, the nun believed that it was alright. She had always kept to herself in the shadows, after all. No one should have paid her any heed at all. That was how things should be, and should continue to be. Yet the thorns of her own lies stung deeply.
Rosaria inhaled the winds that carried Dragonspine’s resentments—the bitter cold helped calm her down.
“Rosaria…” The nun could hear her name being played on the tip of Eula’s tongue. “Rosaria.”
“I’m right here, my gentle knight.” She was able to pull off a more genuine smile this time, with a rosy tint that bloomed in the apples of her cheeks. “You called?”
“... Thank you…” The way Eula mumbled so shyly into her chest was the most demure Rosaria could have ever imagined the knight to act. It actually made her thorn-bound heart skip a beat. Yes, it did hurt a little more than normal.
“... It’s merely my obligation to guide a lost lamb in need, Sir,” Rosaria uttered out of the blue, then cleared her throat in a manner that was slightly too careless; that would have drawn attention; and it did. Coming from the nun, the noise was so odd that Eula had to look up, equal parts concerned and curious, but the holy woman was not prepared to be perceived. She was still blushing, still smiling, her gaze whispering a million words about the love she had for the woman in her arms—all the things she could not possibly retract at such a short notice.
Rosaria snapped her face away at breakneck speed, but she knew it was too late. The knight had seen her face; she had to know she was lying.
“... Ros—”
“—la!!!!!” A familiar shout, full of desperation, could be heard from a distance.
It was followed by a quick shove to Eula’s shoulders, before the nun swiftly dislodged her from between her thighs. It was all too sudden; the flurry of motions left her empty and longing, grasping at air. By the time Eula understood what was going on, the strong emotions she caught a glimpse of from Rosaria had long been wiped away and replaced with a facade of languid calm, albeit accompanied by an uncharacteristic case of nervous foot tapping. The knight could not help but stare at her, the look in her eyes confused and needy, until the nun reached her hand out to her. “... Here, get up. It’s the Outrider.”
“Rosaria…—” Eula began pushing herself up by her knee.
“Wait, over there… Eula?! EULA!!!” And before she could get up fully, a brilliantly fiery girl glomped her into the ground. Her arms barely managed to catch her temple from slamming into ice-hardened soil. “I’ve been worried sick! Why did you come here all alone when you’re the one constantly telling me not to come here by myself!”
“Amber! I…” Eula wished to explain, but she knew neither where to begin nor what to say. The troubles of the heart lent only to the chaos in her mind. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… Sorry…” Eula apologised over and over, meaninglessly. There were too many transgressions she could not muster the courage to bring to light. Not only because of the burning shame that was now better contained in the cavity of her chest, nor the fear of disappointment from the girl who had always stood up for her, but also because something had changed , and she was not entirely sure what it was.
From the ground, Eula peeked from the corner of her eye for the woman that gave her strength, but she could no longer spot the rose-coloured nun. Not even the vile stench of iron remained.
“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me all about it now if it makes you uncomfortable! I’m just so glad you’re safe, Eula…”
“Happy belated birthday… My sweet knight.”