Chapter Text
Lyney scanned the crowds of people milling about in the warm sun. A cool breeze blew gently off the surface of the true sea carrying the scent of brine and the hum of waterfalls. The vision at the small of his back remained a steady warmth, as calm as its master in the face of a picturesque afternoon. His hands ached to flit and fidget, to make cards dance across leather-clad fingers with the dexterity and nimbleness born from years of practice, habit ingrained into the nerves themselves. For now, he contented himself to contain his restlessness within his searching eyes alone.
The clarion call of the seaside on a sunny afternoon had lured many to the pier, as it must have his sister. Every seat on the Aquabus had been taken, which made for a good audience to practice a few old tricks, much to the disapproval of the Melusine guide. The pier itself bustled with life. He wished Freminet had joined, but the crowds would have been overwhelming for the soft-spoken boy most comfortable in the deep silence of deep water. Still, he worried. But, one sibling at a time. The House hardly had a paucity of children to agonize over. The itch to fidget returned at the thought.
His eyes caught on a young child giggling delightedly he was swung between his parents. Groups of sailors wandered around telling tales from their most recent voyages accentuated with animated gestures and barking laughs. Carefully outfitted poodles wandered alongside their equally fashionable owners. With a wink at the young family, a jaunty wave to the crowd of sailors, and a flourished hat tip and half bow to the lords and ladies canine – complete with an arm flourish extended to the heavens, he was a performer after all – Lyney continued his deliberately leisurely stroll around the lower deck of Romaritime Harbor.
Lynette had left early this morning in that quiet way of hers. Surrounded by so many shrinking violets, did he have any choice but to be a rainbow rose? Silence threatened to rise and drown the House at times nearly as much as Fontaine’s waters did. He would let neither overtake them.
He should worry less, he knew. She would be down by the shore as she always was. She would be gazing out at sand dunes that used to be hilltops, as she always was. She would be looking at something you couldn’t see, as she always was. At memories that used to be fond. All swallowed.
And the waters yet rise still.
On days like today with a gentle sun and the tang of the sea in the air and the ever-rumbling crescendo of Fontaine’s waters tumbling into the sea below, it was easy to forget. That fickle thing, prophecy. Whispered about like doom or scoffed at like drivel, depending on who you asked. After all, how could disaster ever come to such a peaceful place? What could disturb such absolute tranquility?
On days like today, it was easy to pretend that the dunes had never been hilltops, that the waters never rose, that the peace of a moment could stretch to the farthest horizons of Teyvat.
On days like today, he wished he could be magic in another way. Not the clever tricks and sleight of hand, or the fire at his fingertips and upon his bow, but the kind of magic that could grab this moment and hold it still, for Lynette, for Freminet, and for all the siblings he had gained since then. For the little boy with his feet dangling high off the ground, safe between his parents with nothing but laughter in his lungs and trust in his heart.
The magic of no more orphans.
And that’s why he was truly here, what his eyes were really tracking. There were rumors. There had been rumors for months, but recently they had grown louder. The rumors of a golden-hued Traveler and his silver-hewn companion. The louder the rumors grew, the more frequently he found himself conjuring excuses to visit like bunnies from his hat. He had not fooled Lynette for a moment. She merely leveled him with a look of supremely unimpressed silent disbelief. Twins were tricky like that. Freminet had regarded him with his own brand of quiet solemnity, as if Lyney were a cat sincerely attempting and sincerely failing to tap dance and Freminet didn’t want to hurt his feelings by laughing. At least Freminet never called him on the flimsiness of his recent excuses. That would have been a devastating blow. The inability to hide what you were really doing from your audience was a great failing for a magician to possess. Still, he preferred Freminet’s version to Lyentte’s. Fewer eyerolls. Significantly fewer eyerolls.
But eye rolls or no, Lynette had come down here unprompted today. There was an unsolicited and unspoken kindness in that the was Lynette to her core. It more than made up for the month of unimpressed looks. It almost made up for her reaction to last week’s all-time-low of an excuse. He shuddered thinking of it.
“Say again?”
“I need to bring something to the guard dog. At the, uh…at the harbor.”
She stared. The urge to pull out his playing card was enormous. It was also, unfortunately, an enormous tell. So, he smiled wider instead and clenched his hands in his lap. The smile was probably bordering on manic. He had performed in front of crowds of hundreds with ease and yet…
“Top priority. House business.”
What the hell was he saying?
Her look, previously as flat as week old Fonta, somehow condensed itself further until it was barely two-dimensional at all.
“The Fatui. Need you to bring. Something. To a dog?”
“Very good my dear Lynette! This is why you make such an excellent assistant!”
Ah, bad idea. That look was now both flat and sharp.
“How kind, Lyney. And what, oh great magician, does the Tsarita’s personal army need you to deliver with such urgency? To a poodle no less?”
Shit. He glanced around the cafe with rapidly increasingly panic. He was supposed to be good under pressure!
“Ah, well it’s a…”
Coffee? No. Scones? No. Maybe a…no.
Lynette folded her arms.
The twitching in his fingers was nearly painful.
No time!
“a.a…baguette!”
Not his best, but confidence was key when it came to a performance. So, he smiled wider. Definitely manic looking now. Possibly passing straight to psychotic.
Lynette just stared. She almost appeared like one of the clockwork mecha when they had run out of Pneuma (or was it Ousia?), completely blank as she shut down and rebooted. And then her head was falling, falling, falling into her hands. She took a deep breath as she massaged her temples.
“So let me understand this correctly. The Fatui, the largest military force in Teyvat, widely feared for their ruthlessness and military prowess, need you to urgently deliver a baguette…to a poodle…named Baguette.”
He opened his mouth but was saved the embarrassment of nothing tumbling out of it but a comically long rope of multi-colored handkerchiefs when Lynette sat back up and waved a hand in front of herself as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Actually, no. Just no.”
Her chair screeched as she stood.
“You’re paying.”
As she walked away, he heard her mutter, “…I just…I can’t do this anymore. I’ll go get him and his fairy friend myself if he doesn’t show up soon.”
So, all in all, it was nice of her to still be supportive. She had even ridden the Aquabus all the way out here, despite it being a less commonly travailed port for visitors from outside of Fontaine. He himself had flitted randomly between the different points of entry until a little over a week ago. After all, the path through Chenyu Vale was by far the most common route into Fontaine. And, according to the intel he had received from the Vanguard’s forces through the Northland Bank’s internal communiques (from an Ekaterina, who seemed put-upon by his inquiry in a way that was very reminiscent of his dear Lynette for some reason), this Traveler was plenty familiar with Liyue already.
So, Chenyu Vale had seemed likely. At least until the giant purple rift in the sky over the desert had abruptly vanished and been replaced by a great glowing green tree. No information had filtered out about what had caused this change or what it might mean yet, but he couldn’t help but think of the enigmatic Traveler. The sudden uptick in spies in and out of the Palais Mermonia and the subsequent absence of Furina from the public eye had only increased his anticipation.
And that same message from Ekaterina had said something else that caught his eye. If she could be believed, the Traveler and the Vanguard were…friendly? What sort of magic must the Traveler have to tame the notoriously battle-hungry Harbinger? They missive said they sparred on occasion, and that the Traveler had even met the Vanguard’s brother.
And that…well, he had a brother too, after all. A few in fact! And a sister! Several even! And he could spar with a flair even a Harbinger would be jealous of. After all, he knew one.
Ekaterina had included a sketch with her dossier. The sketch was cast in quick, precise strokes of ink and depicted a somewhat indistinct profile of a figure radiating strength as they looked over their shoulder at the artist. That sketch had nothing to do with his increasing exuberance at the idea of being among the first to greet the Traveler, no matter what Lynette implied (or outright said). No, it did not matter if he kept the sketch on him. And it wasn’t as if the Eleventh’s sudden (and loud) appearance in Fontaine suddenly made things feel more urgent. It wasn’t a race. And he could simply ask Childe for more information. He hadn’t yet, but he would! He wouldn’t have even needed to ask “Father” for an introduction. Childe had not been subtle in his dogged pursuit of every single Champion Duelist in seemingly the entire nation. It was just that Childe seemed like a lot, and he didn’t particularly want to spar, so it wasn’t an introduction he was in a rush to make. Otherwise, he obviously would.
But still, if Ekaterina was right, then the Traveler could befriend a Fatuus. If Ekaterina was right, he could befriend a Harbinger even…if the Traveler could do that then maybe...
Lyney shook his head. The important thing was that the Traveler could help.
And if he returned to the sketch from time to time, it was only so he knew what to look for when scanning the crowds. The sketch wasn’t even complete. The lines had clearly been penned only roughly although with great skill. It was a side profile, done at a distance, but the expression was solemn and the stance was powerful. The sword held lightly in The Traveler’s hand almost seemed to glint from the page. The artist had written an inscription in three lines of careful script across the bottom right of the page. They read:
the Honorary Knight, atop Dragonspine, evening
thought this might provide some inspiration for your writer’s block
Calx
Whoever Calx was, they knew their craft. Ekaterina implied that it had been found among some mail pilfered from the Feiyun Commerce Guild and was the only image they had available. She had also written, “Don’t bother asking why the Lord Harbinger doesn’t just make himself useful and bring a Kamera with him to his next spar. It would be easier to get the Tsaritsa to develop a passion for the light novels from Yae Publishing House than to get that idiot boy to pay attention to anything when there’s a good fight to be had.”
And that…that did concern him. The Traveler was known to be a fierce warrior, renowned for battling dragons and gods, and had regular spars with Childe no less. In the sketch, he wore a somber look on his face and held his sword comfortably. He had clearly used it. It all spoke to a martial prowess that Lyney likely needed, but he hoped the Traveler wasn’t…violent. Something in him chilled at the idea that he might be, because…there were kinder rumors too. Rumors that he was searching for someone. A sister. To go so far for one’s sibling…Lyney could understand that, respect that, maybe even admire that.
Violent or not, they didn’t have much choice. No one else had saved four nations from the brink of disaster. With disaster on the horizon for a fifth, where better to turn?
Those disasters were cause by people like us, an ugly voice reminded him, he may not want to help.
But this one is not. He helped them. And he will help us. He must.
If he could keep him out of Furina’s schemes, that is. What to do, what to do.
While he mused, his feet carried him down a familiar path towards the water’s edge. The crowds thinned out this close to the shoreline, and he allowed his posture to drop from the well-practiced intentional relaxation he wore on stage to a more natural ease. The smell of salt and the sound of the waterfalls grew stronger with each step. Lynette would be a bit further along the coast at the very edge of the sea with waves lapping at her feet. He understood what drew her here. He could practically hear the memories himself.
A small hand dramatically brandishes a gleaming seashell.
“And the hero’s vision sparks to life and electro shot out and KA-BOOM…take that sea monsters! Ha ha!”
“Can a vision really defeat a sea monster?”
“Of course it can, my dear sister. People with visions can conjure fire and shoot ice out of their hands and make huuuuuuge rocks and even fly!”
“I’d like to fly.”
“You would?”
“Yeah. It seems peaceful.”
“You wouldn’t fly too far, right?”
“I’d come back.”
“Swear?”
“Lyney…”
“Please?”
“Fine. This I promise by the Seven, else be I barred from the vault of heaven.”
“Well…that’s alright then.”
“What would you want?”
“For what?”
“A vision.”
“Anemo would be cool. We could fly together then.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“I’m not sure freedom is really what you’re looking for.”
“Awgh! My sister is so wise! A great scholar! Perhaps Dendro suits you better.”
“Now I really hope it’s Anemo.”
“Why?”
“So I can take you flying with me... and drop you.”
“Lynette!”
Voices broke him from the memory. Multiple voices. Was Lynette not alone?
He slowed and listened. Lynette’s steady cadence was there, although he was too far away to make out what she was saying. And there was definitely a second voice, a high-pitched and energetic rambling, like a mouse that’d eaten a sugar cube.
Lynette didn’t sound distressed, so he didn’t pick up his pace, but he did keep listening. Even so, it wasn’t until he rounded the corner that he heard the third voice – a soft tenor with an equally soft chuckle. The chuckle came from behind an amused smile that was little more than a tilt of the mouth. The stranger shook his head and bit his lip. In the sunlight, bright gold eyes shone, and a long golden braid gleamed. Lyney’s feet had stopped moving. At some point, his entire body had stopped moving. He’s almost certain the breeze and the people and the waterfalls themselves had stopped moving.
Ah that’s why they call him golden.