Chapter Text
The stars have never ceased to surprise him. Though, in return, he has ceased the stars a surprise.
If this spelled the end of him, he could only say he brought up a good fight. The battles have only given him the thrill to feel alive and it exhilarated him the most.
But not everyone comes out the victor. Losses were inevitable. One will stumble upon twice at one point. This was one, for him, at least.
It was still a victory, to say the least. He wouldn’t dare mind putting his life at play if it meant use. As a weapon of war, he understood this.
Howbeit, battles come to an end. Everything has and the fun will cease after the climax falls to a denouement.
He laid in the grass, motionless. Somehow, the grass in Sumeru felt lusher and way more comfortable in contrast to the cold, white-layered fields of his country. He often thought that if his life would come to an end, he’d lay on the grounds of the goddess he served— home.
Was it because this was the land of Dendro that he felt a sort of ease? Or was it because he was delirious already?
Maybe he was satisfied.
Things came to an end and perhaps this was the end of him.
To the Traveler,
By the orders of the Tsaritsa, he was chosen to seek out one who was thought to have gone rogue. The Balladeer had possession of a certain Gnosis and happened to have lost contact with the Fatui.
It was no coincidence. But if there were, it would be his encounter.
On behalf of the Fatui, I, Andrei, Tartaglia’s secretary, would like to extend thanks for your help with the situation in regard to the Balladeer.
A chance to meet a friend, a chance to meet a blonde beauty, a familiar sight— it was her, the Traveler.
Fate sure had its antics and the stars could be comedic at times.
And the retrieval of an important item.
He groaned in pain. His fellow Harbingers were in line against the Sixth, and she was there out on the battlefield as well.
For that, we have prepared a recompense for you and your associate.
But all he can do is stare at the welkin above.
Blue, bright, clear. It was sunny and even ebullient. He placed all bets that it was a peaceful day for someone as the warm rays of the sun gently bathed their skins.
As per command and wish, I have to write with utmost regret that I have received news about the Master.
Dying couldn’t be that bad. It could be peaceful. He had to admit that even he took lives. This place was already a painted scenery, a picturesque serene landscape. The wind was cool despite the blazing sun.
I have only recently received the news from Sumeru. I am currently away from the Lord for some work.
His lids already felt heavy though he didn’t want to close them yet.
He hadn’t had the chance to tell Anthon of the land of Wisdom yet. He hasn’t shared the pieces unique to different regions with Tonia yet. A new toy for Teucer and a conversation between his elder siblings. He hasn’t talked to his father and mother yet.
And her… He hasn’t seen her yet.
The last time he’d seen her was before he turned his back and away from the Domain in Inazuma.
He hasn’t taken her to the scenery of his homeland, he hasn’t, and everything—
His headache throbbed worse and worse. The blood continued to seep out of deep wounds, staining his grey uniform a bright crimson.
Just everything that was there to be done.
Scaramouche has truly struck him. All curses that he could think of were directed at him. Damn it all.
And then he wondered, did his remaining line of thought even make sense? Was it even coherent?
Did it even matter anymore?
The Eleventh Harbinger…
Was he ready? Was it all absolute if his demise met him now?
Did he want to die?
He coughed up blood to the side with threatening, limited breaths.
…is presumed dead after the devastating battle that you have also fought in.
He swore to the Tsaritsa all his loyalty and that he will die with the honor of a Harbinger.
This was his duty as the Eleventh.
Truly most unfortunate. My sincerest apologies.
And then he stared upon the sky once more with all that was left of him.
Blue, bright, clear.
He wished he stared at the dark and ominous sky instead. A night sky in indigo, speckled with the brightest stars with constellations that connected and fate that intertwined.
If he can’t see her, the stars could’ve been sufficient. More than what he least wished for. But the world was known not to be kind.
So he rested his eyes, ceasing the world into darkness. Death was only but a lullaby to an everlasting slumber.
And days later after the arduous conflict, the Traveler received a letter sealed with the official stamp of the Fatui coming from the Eleventh’s secretary.