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In Fontaine’s rugged, unforgiving depths, there is no beauty to be seen by the sane traveler, unless one finds themselves with a curious fascination for filth. The ambience was dark and dreary, with only the most rusted of browns and aged of grays visible to the naked eye. Disgusting, it was, compared to the well-developed aquatic and surface regions of Fontaine and even the rest of Teyvat.
As a warden of Fontaine’s unforgiving dungeons, Wriothesley had no reason to see any sort of beauty in his surroundings. It mattered not if the convict was dressed in the finest reds or the most lowly of rags; if he caught them acting out of line or they somehow managed to slip under the noses of the wardens, he would not hesitate to hunt down the prisoners and bare his fangs. Little bark, all bite, he was known for.
On the rare chances that he did have an opportunity to rise to the surface, his poor eyesight did become somewhat of a hinderance. Under the cover of darkness, everything was in at least twenty different shades of gray. The real world as he knew it was merely blue, golden, and gray.
Through his eyes, the world was merely comprised of shades of those three colors. The rainbow of corals filling the sea and the colorful fish swimming alongside aquatic travelers were sights that Wriothesley was cursed to never behold himself. He had grown used to it, walking along the dungeons and all, but a deep part of him yearned to see the world in its full vibrance.
As you looked down from the water’s edge and found yourself engrossed in the diversity of Fontaine’s nature, Wriothesley would not share that same enthusiasm as you did. Perhaps it was due to his lack of occupancies outside of wrangling prisoners that he found no value in frivolous nature watching. You had faith, however, that if he could actually see what you were experiencing for himself, then he too, would be engrossed by the beauty of Fontaine’s upper-class regions.
He stood by a post out of habit, scanning the area around him while trying to keep his focus on your whereabouts. It was a warden’s habit to remain wary, as it was something that cannot be helped. He wasn’t too eager to hit every sightseeing location in the vicinity, but the fresh air at the very least would do his health some good. Wriothesley rarely had a chance for personal recreation, but when given the chance, he did not hesitate to accompany you on the surface for the time that he was allotted.
Raising an eyebrow, Wriothesley asked you, “What could you possibly find so intriguing about Fontaine’s waters?”
“You just need to take a moment to have a close look for yourself. From floor to surface, its bursting with colorful life,” you said.
Wriothesley shook his head, disinterested in your frivolous observations. The world above Fontaine’s dungeons was just as dull and colorless as the one below him, and so he showed minimal interest in observing the varieties of gold and gray, something he was far too used to seeing in the underground. Silently, he rejected your invitation to observe the waters, and continued resting his body by the post where his gaze remained sharp.
How do you get someone who cannot see the full rainbow to experience life’s vividness through your eyes? Red was but a concept to him, as he was even blind to the intimidating aura of his maroon clothing. Luscious flora was not an attention grabber, with nature’s blessing of the color green being nothing more than a shade of gold to Wriothesley’s wolf-like eyes. The violet corals accenting the forests of pink and orange…to him, they all felt merely the same.
If the physical appearance of color mattered not, then you would have to resort to other methods of conveying the beauty of the world that you saw. You grabbed his arm and tugged him away from the post, dragging him to overlook the waters below. A tall, dancing bush of seagrass waved happily in the gentle current, which you had pointed out to Wriothesley.
“Look at that. What color do you see that as, exactly?”
“…Golden, diluted by a crisp ocean blue. Why do you ask?”
You shook your head, though you knew that he was answering with complete honesty and precisely what he saw from his view.
“Feels like it blends in with the rest of the world, if I’m not mistaken?” you asked.
Wriothesley nodded his head.
“Now…define it not as the golden brown you perceive it as, but more of like…as if the seagrass was brimming with the energy of mother nature herself. It radiates serenity…tranquility…an ornament to emphasize the liveliness that is Fontaine’s ecosystem. This seagrass is but a small example of what the force of life in Teyvat’s has to offer…what we are blessed to call ‘being alive.’ Serenity…peace…the sea itself, all hidden beneath the human nature of envy and illness that is part of this inevitable cycle.
He tilted his head curiously.
“Through my eyes, I simply see it as the color green. To you, however, it exists not as a sight to behold, but as a concept with meaning that the average eye could simply not do justice with sight alone.
You pointed to a batch of branching corals not too far from the seagrass that you had observed.
“These corals,” you said. “how do they appear to you?”
“Darker than the seagrass, though still a shade golden yellow,” he stated.
“Hmmm…these corals are, in fact, quite energetic compared to their seagrass companions. They are bursting with vibrance, capturing your attention and filling you with joy as you gaze upon their tree-like structure. It’s a sense of happiness that cannot be put into words, yet it brightens you day like a warm sun during early autumn…”
Wriothesley focused on these corals as you explained how they felt, though he could feel his attention drifting from the meaning of the words to the mere sound of your voice.
“That is what I call orange. To you, it is the idea of happiness, bustling with joy and energy. Take pride in being able to embrace its luxury, for we do not appreciate its brightness until it has departed our lives.
Wriothesley seemed more attentive than before, as perhaps you had opened his eyes to the feeling of color, rather than thinking of it as something to merely see. He was scanning the water itself, both surface and floor, attempting to visualize the shades of gold that he sees as the feelings that you had described. After a few moments of observation, he pointed to a rounded coral, distinct from the branches you have described prior.
“Those?” you asked.
He nodded gently. “The rounded, lighter blue ones amongst the branched varieties…”
“The rounded corals serve as a metaphor for our imaginations. Their curious existence invokes a sense of mystery and discovery in the ones who have the honor of spotting these rarities. Nobles of both past and present would adorn themselves with these gems, limited only by their imagination; something that the lower class may not have the honor of witnessing in their lifetime. The diamonds in the rough you see here, are what I know as the color purple.”
Wriothesley had become so invested in your beautiful words, that he had lost his concentration on the truly vibrant world that his eyes were blind to. He looked down at himself, perhaps out of shame for his self-perceived dullness, then gazed out at the sea full of energetic corals and peaceful seagrass that stretched as far as the waters would allow. Nothing more than shades of gray and burnt yellow, he was doomed to see himself as.
But Wriothesley was far from what he viewed himself as. His own unique vibrance told a story in itself. It told how he had experienced years of bloodshed from such a rough occupation, how he showed passion to what was important to him, and how he had the strength to carry on despite the injuries that threatened to take his life on numerous occasions.
The dark red suit told a story in its own. Wriothesley was a tough man, but he was also full of care and compassion. By showing no mercy to those who broke the nation’s laws, he assured that the citizens of Fontaine could roam the streets freely and safely.
Wriothesley’s suit was the color of the feelings that you two had for each other.
Not to mention, the color of his face when you explained the meaning behind the red he was adorned with.