Chapter Text
Liyue was the beautiful nation of the Geo Archon Rex Lapis. It was traditional in all senses, standing tall and robust with stunning sights from every corner of the nation, and it was the oldest established land in Teyvat.
The ocean by Liyue Harbour was always the most breathtaking shade of blue, with the colourful fish wading through the heavy rocks and lush coral. Fish was a typical food throughout Liyue, and walking through the harbour carried the smell of fresh seafood. You have heard of the famous Wanmin Restaurant, where spices and cultural foods hit the top of the list for any traveller coming to the area.
Throughout Liyue, the water connected every inch of the nation through a series of calm waves and a large, curling river. The river reached Qingce Village, high in the nation, wrapping around the tiny village in a cold, watery embrace. However, the saltwater fish didn't travel as far as the village, so the few fish in the rivers of Qingce were smaller than any other, and seafood was rare.
Mt. Qingce was a towering mountain that watched over Qingce Village like a concerned parent. Ever since you were young, you were told that the mountain protected those nestled inside from any dangers, even though there was an abundance of rumours talking about a threat living underneath the mountain. Croplands ran far in the village, reaching high and low with the colours of the rising sun. The minerals from the river seeped into the soil and fertilised the land, so the grain and crops were of high quality.
Qingce Village hardly brought in money from the village itself but from those that worked in Liyue Harbour or other nations of Teyvat. Most of the people that lived in the village were young children, looked after by their grandparents or their friends' grandparents. Their parents hardly returned unless for holidays, and those that decided to reside in the village were a part of the family.
Children sat with their legs dangling over the ends of the grassy plains, watching the fish flop about in the waters. They weren't as impressive as open sea fish, but they were strangely attractive enough that the kids watched on with eyes wide open. They attempted to grab at the fish with grubby fingers, but the slimy animal dove away from them with a swish of the tail and a splash.
Your world revolved around the little village near the outskirts of Liyue. You moved there when you were young, and after turning nineteen a few months ago, you didn't remember much from that time. The older people of the village told you that your parents were lively, kind people with a knack for adventuring in the areas around them, and no one could keep them in place for long. They were an impressive couple whom many residents had high hopes for.
However, when you were a few years old, your parents decided to explore a land far away in Mondstadt to bring treasures and Mora to Qingce Village, and your parents had never returned from the other nation. That was pretty normal for the rest of the children in Qingce too.
Granny Ruoxin, the proclaimed village chief by the other residents, was quick to take you in and teach you everything you knew.
Your fingers plucked delicately at the strings of your lyre, wary of the beady eyes of Granny Ruoxin. She was a reasonably lax lady with a bold head of grey hair wrapped tightly in a traditional bun. Her clothes were a dark blue, almost grey, that matched the painted scenery on the walls of the community centre. Her features were soft and motherly, even if she did not have any biological kids of her own.
"You play this piece beautifully," she complimented, tracing the rim of her cup of tea. "Many bards down in Liyue harbour give their attempt at this, but I have yet to hear someone play it as well as you do. I can tell you've been practising."
You glowed at the praise.
Giving you a lyre was like giving a cow a gate to ogle at. You'd rather stare at your instrument than play it, no matter how simple it looked. You did enjoy playing the music too, no matter how old the pieces were and how your fingers burned afterwards, but there was something so special about the few decorations on the wood that the designs took you.
However, something interrupted your intense concentration.
There was a blur of pink colour against the striking blues used in the painted scenery walls. It was stagnant and moved every so often with the wind, like some advertisement board you might see down in the nation's central city.
"[Y/n]?" a voice said from the entrance to the community hall.
Your hands plucked at the wrong string, and a terrible note rang through the air. Granny Ruoxin cringed.
You whirled your head toward the pink blur on the blue background. It was Luo—a child of the village. She was shuffling her feet, and her hands were behind her back. An evident expression of nervousness was on her face, and there was a rosy hue to her cheeks.
Luo had short hair styled just below her jaw, with a messy fringe and a pink flower clipped tightly into her hair. She was an adventurous little girl who often left the village to explore the bamboo trees just outside Qingce's borders, although she was strongly asked not to. From a young age, she took a liking to you more than the other residents in the village close to her age.
"What's wrong with you, Luo?" Granny Ruoxin asked, her tone disapproving. She sipped her tea with a bitter look in her eyes.
Little Lou glanced around, awkwardly playing with her fingers. She looked a little out of place.
Granny Ruoxin sighed impatiently. "Say something, Luo."
"I lost my doll in Wuwang Village," she exclaimed.
Granny Ruoxin pursed her lips.
"We told you to stay in Qingce Village when you played, Luo," she scolded. "You interrupted [Y/n]'s lyre lessons."
Lou puffed out her cheeks, looking strangely like a bunny. "I'm sorry, granny, it's just the doll I lost was the one my dad gave me."
The harsh lines of Granny Ruoxin's eyes softened.
She had a soft spot for the children of the village. Since you were older, just teetering at the end of your teenage years, she spoke more firmly with her tone and expected you to be a more senior sibling figure to those younger than you. But as you were also relatively younger than her, you were given the job of running after the children. And you accepted it, as everyone in the village was one big family.
She motioned for you to rise, delicately grabbing the lyre between your fingertips.
"You're very smart [Y/n]," she complimented—she wanted something from you. There was a warning behind her words, a reminder that you were going to agree with whatever she was going to say. "They'll help you find your doll, Little Luo, so don't worry. You'll get your doll back."
She ignored your groan of distaste.
Little Luo's eyes watered. "Thank you, granny, [Y/n]."
So Granny Ruoxin kicked you out of the community hall, Little Luo's hand held tightly in your own. Your fingers ached from your plucking of the lyre, and Luo held your hand delicately as if she understood. Her cheeks were brushed pink from her tears.
Being a small village in the mountains, the croplands surrounding the homes, the mill, and the community house were generally filled with different types of slimes. They were small and unharmful things that kept to their business if you kept to yours. However, they made it exceedingly hard to farm, and it took hours longer than needed just because of it. Luo once told you about her plan of world domination with the help of the slimes, but she was over that stage in her life, as she mentioned a couple of years back. Typically, most five-year-olds want to explore the world and play with toys, not rule the entire world.
However, Luo was an enigma of a child, even if she didn't understand the severity of most of what she was talking about.
Now, she was adamant about finding a boyfriend, which was hard as she refused to even look at boys her age as they disgusted her.
It was a struggle to travel from Qingce Village to Wuwang Hill. You had to avoid the aggressive hilichurls that rested beside the path and the less-than-friendly Fatui that pestered you if you wandered too close to their camps. Sometimes you had to explain to them you were a simple resident of Qingce Village and weren't an adventurer planning to loot them. Some of them only allowed you to pass with a glance at Luo because they had the decency not to attack a child.
Wuwang Hill was an abandoned village a few minutes walk away from Qingce. When you were Luo's age, you had gone there with other kids, thinking the one-sided hide-and-seek you played with hilichurls was the most entertaining thing in your otherwise dull and repetitive life. It was dangerous, but you were stupid when you were younger.
You were still stupid.
The air was thick and dark, although the morning sun had since risen high in the sky. Tall trees reach high, with a dense canopy of leaves. The sunlight glittered through, but the fog danced overhead and blocked it from reaching you.
There were whispers of ghosts and evil spirits that lived in what remained of Wuwang Village, but only the superstitious believed those rumours. Recently, horror walks or events to test your bravery were held in the area, and the abandoned village was slowly opening up to the public. However, the hilichurls that roamed the area were a huge problem for those who wanted to host those events because many willing customers also didn't want to risk getting attacked.
"I was here," Luo mumbled, stretching her arms and standing stiffly in the middle of the dirt path, "when I noticed I didn't have my doll anymore. I don't know where it could've gone."
Silence filled the misty greenery.
From what you remembered of Luo's doll, it was the ugliest mixture of pinks and blondes you had ever seen, so it would sit brightly against the dull of the woods. Your eyes drifted to the glow of nature. A crystalfly wiggled its radiant legs, fluttering around like a beautiful wisp. It landed on a tree trunk and presented the beauty of its dazzling wings to you.
Luo was on her hands and knees, patting the ground around her, hoping for a feel of her beloved doll. You crouched down beside her and decided to help, although reluctant.
All of a sudden, an exotic song burst through the quiet. The voice was deep and guttural, discernible and—oh, you realised, it's a samachurl. It waddled down the path, a large decorated club thrown comfortably over its shoulder. Luo shot up from the ground, retreating swiftly to your side.
You weren't scared of samachurls. In fact, you found them quite cute when they weren't following their more dangerous friends around. It stumbled about, and you felt sorry that it had chosen such a large staff to waddle around with, and then it started to do some intricate dance in place. You were enjoying the show.
Suddenly, the samachurl stopped. You and Luo shared a look.
The samachurl stared at you and Luo curiously with beady, menacing eyes. It released a warning gruntle from deep in its throat and swung its staff forward with surprising precision, pushing you and Luo back down the path to avoid getting hit.
"Can we beat up a samachurl?" Luo asked, sweat beading on her forehead. The samachurl was roughly half her size, but the club was dangerously massive with a thick blunt end.
You shrugged. "If we kick it, maybe?"
Both of you inched backwards, and Little Luo grabbed your hand warily. You could feel the clamminess of her palm.
Then, the ground shook beneath your feet. Multiple crystalflies took to the high canopies of the trees, and the bright tendrils of blue light from the glimmer of their wings were the only thing left until that dispersed too—another shake. You whipped your head around. The trees whistled dangerously, and Luo's grip on your hand tightened roughly. Quietly, the samachurl tilted its head, observing you. It slung its club around.
Something emerged from the trees.
Your world shuddered, and your heart stopped in your chest.
Before you, with a hot, fiery axe placed heavily on its shoulder and a mask tight on its face, stood the biggest mitachurl you had ever seen. Granted, you had never seen one in person before. Two of its large curling horns protruded from his head, which ended in a sharp, vicious point, and one of its muscular arms was the size of Luo herself. The mitachurl squared its shoulders and exhaled a hot, smelly breath.
Between the mitachurls big meaty fingers was Little Luo's doll. The blonde tufts of curled hair were matted and torn from the rough handling the mitachurl had given it with a simple hold in its hand, and the pure pink was dirty with sludge and mud.
Behind the mitachurl was a small party of hilichurls, all holding their own choice of weapons. You were going to die, you realised.
The mitachurl glared down at you.
"Ah, we're screwed," you said.
Luo looked at you with absolute terror in her eyes. "Why would you say that?"
Swiftly, it raised his other hand to grab the handle of his axe, sending the doll flying from its grasp, and it landed with a thud in the dirt. It hurled the axe from its shoulder and held the grip tight in front of him with trained fingers.
At that moment, the winds turned harsh. The samachurl huffed, twirling its staff.
A man emerged from the air, his posture strong and his hands clutched around a large weapon that shone in the glow of the spirits. His footsteps were soft—silent, like tiptoes through snow.
The man boasted black hair with an undertone of teal, clipped short at the back but with two long locks that tickled his chin at the front. A mask attached to his hip caught your attention the most, and it resembled a lynx or a large cat, with demonic-like features and two large canines curled slightly to the sides to ward off evil spirits and attract the good.
Your eyes widened. An adeptus, you realised, a Yaksha.
His weapon was a polearm, the most beautiful you had ever seen. Along the shaft, a twisting pattern curled in intense colour around and around and around. Green, symmetrical blade-like jades hovered around the spearhead, with gold bases that held them comfortably in their position.
As you were growing up in Qingce, you watched with the village's children as the blacksmith, Hanfeng, built weapons from the materials of the mountains. He only came back from Liyue Harbour when the holidays came around, and he brought with him souvenirs of old and new. There was history in everything he chose, although most only cared for the chance to brag that they had an item from the harbour itself. He was always a sort of wiry man of little muscle, but he did his job well and brought much Mora into the village.
He still spoke of his old job with passion in his eyes, like he yearned to go back to the harbour, but his son was the new owner of the blacksmiths, and if asked, he would say his biggest concern would be finding him a satisfactory partner.
Hanfeng could attempt to make a polearm that looked similar to the adeptus', but you were positive that he would fail. The polearm looked too well made to be crafted by a mortal, like it held some divine power or had been created delicately by the Geo Archon themselves.
The adeptus jumped into action. His form was perfect, and you couldn't even compare his mastery of using his weapon with the adventurers or mercenaries you had seen over the years. His polearm danced between his fingers skilfully—powerfully—and you were enraptured. His movements were graceful, and you thought that, with such beauty and mastery at fighting, he should have become a dancer instead.
The hilichurls screeched loudly, baring their weapons messily before gradually getting knocked down in a pattern of one-two-three, one-two-twirl the weapon. A hilichurls mask cracked. A hilichurl collapsed into a heap on the ground. Repeat.
Quickly, the mitachurl reared its blazing axe behind its back and plunged it forward with all of the power of the winds. It flared, burning the life out of the air, sweat rushing down your forehead and breathing tight.
A mere second later, the adeptus had traversed the rocks with one hand on his polearm. He shot through the air like a comet, a streaky brush of green energy across the dark gloom of the forest. His face was stony, calm, indifferent. He landed on the opposite rock. The mitachurl collapsed to the floor, and the ground trembled.
A shaky breath fell from the adeptus' lips, and the chaos stopped.
Silence consumed the three of you.
You felt like you were a side character in an adventure book, standing near an adepti. He looked like nothing in the world could bother him, as he was the one that ruled the world himself. You wanted to know what it was like to rule over anything and everything, even though all you truly owned was your house and lyre. That was the price of being near an adeptus: greed and yearning. That was why so many faked being them for the feeling of power at their fingertips and the promise of undying support.
But when you saw his steady breathing, the furrow of his brows, and the faint flush to his cheeks, you realised that he wasn't as unaffected by the fight as you thought he was. He twirled the polearm in his hand in a beautiful show of talent before it disappeared into thin air. He turned swiftly around to face you.
The man moved like the world was spinning too slowly for him, and he didn't want to slow down for it: he was an adepti, after all, a being close to the power of an Archon! He didn't have to slow down for anyone or anything if life went his way. You, being a simple mortal, had to run to catch up. You were struggling, just like everyone else, as you had not been chosen for a Vision or born as an Archon or an adepti.
With steady fingers, he grabbed the doll near the tip of his shoe by one of its tight curls. He stared at it for a second or two, like it was holding the secrets of the universe inside its tiny, plastic body, and its painted face knew the answers to the most profound questions. Slight confusion curled the corner of his mouth downwards.
"Here," he mumbled, holding the doll like it burned into his skin at the touch. His voice was tired and soft, deep in the back of his throat. He enunciated his words firmly, and there was a strange grumbling to a few like he hadn't spoken to a person in a long, long time, and he preferred it to be like that.
As he shuffled closer, you noticed a thick colour painted the corners of his amber eyes a brazen orange in a prominent flick. A green tattoo crawled up his arm, resembling a scaled beast drawn on his skin. The tattoo matched the two spikes that rested on his opposite, clothed shoulder. He didn't wear clothes that conformed to Liyue's style, but you assumed he didn't care about what he looked like anyway.
He continued to look at the two of you as if he had never seen a human before. He held it out to Luo with a stony expression on his face. The doll was bright and puffy in contrast to his cool and sleek body. Luo grabbed the doll cautiously, a blaring flush to her cheeks. His brow furrowed.
Her gaze lingered on the adeptus for a moment too long. You blinked, bewildered at the usually loudmouthed girl. The two of them had started a silent staring contest that you weren't a part of, and you shuffled your feet awkwardly.
A hot, burning crimson flushed Luo's cheeks, and a cloud of sweat adorned her brow. You suspected that she had already started to develop a crush on the cold Yaksha; you could tell by how she looked at him.
You nudged her, breaking eye contact. She glared at you. "Say thank you, Luo."
Suddenly, the man's powerful glare landed on you. He had a resting bitch face that seared into your skin, and you couldn't help but nervously smile at the situation in which Luo's disobedience ended you up. The air turned even tighter than before.
For a few daunting seconds, he just stared and stared and stared. You wondered if he had ever seen a human before. His lips seemed set in a permanently firm line of dissatisfaction or even boredom. The adeptus looked like he wanted to say something. His mouth opened slightly, but he stopped himself in his tracks. He decided that the words weren't important and turned away to look at the doll in Luo's hand instead.
He nodded firmly at her when he caught her glance and disregarded her words of gratitude.
Luo smiled shakily at the adeptus, but he didn't smile back.