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Liyue always appeared to be in a rush. It was as if the city itself couldn’t afford to let it’s people stand idle for even a moment. His visits to the city of commerce were few and far between, that had simply never changed in his many years, but none could fail to recognize the quickness of each and every merchant’s step. Brief glances, hurried apologies as they passed through crowds.
His own goals were usually outside of the city itself. It made visits more like passing through, barely taking a moment for himself before moving to his next target. The Abyss wouldn’t risk trying to establish more of a hold on the city, only wandering on the outskirts. They knew better than to challenge the Adepti or even Morax himself. The Archon’s very presence dissuaded them for now. For better or worse, yet he wasn’t certain how long that may hold.
Dainsleif had been content to keep his path further and further away from the reaches of any false idol, but there was a book that he needed. Mondstadt had an extensive library, but this book could only be found in Liyue. Pieces of history were more quickly preserved in the Geo Archon’s lands. Whether that be through the stone tablets spread throughout the ruins or through his current goal, there was little difference.
He had been picking through the books of a small bookstore when he felt it. The presence of the Abyss, in Liyue. In an instant, the blond tensed up. The book was momentarily forgotten as he moved to peer over the side of the railing. Carefully, to ensure he wouldn’t be seen by whatever it was… That same feeling struck him like lightning, and it was coming from one person. One ginger man, who was walking towards the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. There was a skip to his step almost, all too confident for someone who reeked of the Abyss.
Never one to run from his problems, nor one to be reckless… Dainsleif made his way down the stairs slowly to follow from a distance. He would periodically peek through a window, patiently waiting for whatever this visit was truly about to finish. It seemed to be about lunch, yet they remained in the parlor and did more talking than eating.
Patience was needed, and yet he still couldn’t shake that feeling. The urge to get distance from it, the one he felt every time something from the Abyss crawled near him. It came with an ache that never left him, only grew or shrank in size from time to time. A longing for something he had lost, and would never find again due to the fact that it no longer existed.
He took a breath through his nose, sapphire eyes shutting close for a moment. A breath in and out, a moment without that stench. That was all he needed, a momentary respite. With the closer look the window provided, he knew exactly who this was. Childe, the 11th Fatui Harbinger. Someone not to be trifled with, but now Dainsleif knew exactly why.
No one knew where he got such strength from, his combat prowess unrivaled by most. The Abyss made sense, although he had truly hoped and thought it may just be his drive to serve the Tsaritsa. That certainly had something to do with it, perhaps even more than some may think, but the Abyss was still the Abyss. Nothing good ever came of it.
At the end of the day, his love and need to serve the Tsaritsa was a chain dragging him into the depths. A false idol was never true, not even when you came to love it. It would change nothing even now, knowing that the Harbinger was full of false hope granted by an Archon. That was truly all they ever did for people like him. The path he took was noble in concept, ignorant and annoying as a reality. It disgusted him to see so many fall into a false sense of security simply due to an Archon’s presence. They never truly cared or helped their people.
Archons were cold at their cores, playing by whims and fantasies in the hopes that some day a bard may tell their tale in a kinder light. Bards would then go on to lie about the details to earn their favor this way. False tales of false idols to stir false hope in would-be worshippers.
Providing a cause to serve was something anyone could do, not just the Archons. Usually those backed by humans were more worthy to begin with at the very least. They could be faked like anything else, but there was more genuinity to them for the most part. Humanity was flawed, which made those causes flawed as well. Better than faked perfection. Better than seeking the Abyss for more power to serve an uncaring god of all things.
He was pulled from his own bitterness the moment the Harbinger stepped outside once more, continuing his walk towards the harbor without that former skip to his step. It was interesting, but the look on Zhongli’s face as he watched the other leave told a story of its own.
There had never been a single being who could hide a deceitful ploy from him, not even someone of Zhongli’s stature. The Harbinger was being used, his guilt made that abundantly clear. Interesting all the same, but it wouldn’t become his concern yet. It was likely to never become an issue he himself needed to handle, but the people of Liyue would carry the burden instead. The Fatui aren’t known to take such falsehoods lightly, especially not a Harbinger.
But Dainsleif hadn’t allowed himself to forget about his book. Even with the distraction of unpleasant reminders, there were some missing pieces the Bough Keeper needed. He sighed to himself, weary as ever, and watched the ginger wander off towards the bank before returning to the bookstore. It was only another moment before the book was found and retrieved, handing over the correct amount of currency before needing to make a choice of his own. Tartaglia had been headed to the bank, and he was to head to Mondstadt.
Northland Bank wasn’t far, but he always knew better than to linger. The trip to Mondstadt was shorter than most, but it was a risk to stay. Back and fourth his mind would flit, hating the decision at hand more than most. Sighing once more, the thought lingered just a moment longer before he started off in the direction of the bank as well. The stench was still there, meaning Childe hadn’t left. Fatui business, likely.
Everyone in Liyue was lucky that Lady Ningguang was patient. Mostly, more correctly. they were lucky she didn’t have any right to refuse the Fatui of anything they were currently asking of her. She surely tried her hardest to find something to keep them away, but they were careful to test their boundaries with utmost respect and courtesy. It would bite them later, surely. For now, it was simply something to nip at their heels instead.
Childe was known for his long missions abroad, but the scent of the Abyss was ingrained in him. Like something older, not as fresh at his core yet some lingered on the surface as well. It had become a part of him at a young age. Was it more proof of his dedication, or of his foolishness? It was always both, for as much as the sentiment was worth. The same went for a Harbinger as it would for anyone else walking the streets.
Tartaglia was a simple man, attempting to play knight for the realm he adored with his entire being. The Abyss wasn’t just a source of power to him anymore. He had fallen down the same path as everyone else always did: he became addicted to it. Mixed with the adrenaline of combat, it was no wonder the depths clung to him so.
Humanity struggled in the face of such forces, every soul became warped by it. Dainsleif had become scarred by it, something he would never be able to recover from. Too much had been taken for the addiction to set in, but he did understand that perhaps he clung too much to avenging ghosts that would despise him. They would find his actions self-centered and revolting. None of that stopped him from his path nonetheless.
Upon closer inspection, there was a visual change in the Harbinger. Light wouldn’t reach his eyes, entirely void in watery tones. It was only for a moment that their eyes met, passing by each other. Dainsleif knew that the other’s gaze was more pinned to him than most, merely letting his own gaze drift slightly past him. “Do not let the waves capsize you, Harbinger. The sea salt is blinding, and there is already too much that you cannot see.”
He could sense Tartaglia slowing, turning to look at him as he simply kept moving past him. There was too much to do to worry himself with saving a lost soul from his fate. He wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t budge in his resolve. Much the same as a knight serving the lordship of a city left in the dark. A city forged in night, one served just as proudly.
There was too much of himself in the Harbinger for that conversation to go well. A reckless need to serve that only ever destroyed it all. He would truly be a harbinger, only this would be his own doom he orchestrated. And Dainsleif would have no part in bringing him mercy.