Chapter Text
It had been five days since Lisa had been abducted inside her own home. Four days since Albedo tugged Kaeya to the side and shared his hushed concerns about the scorched marks on Lisa’s kitchen tile being a result of Khaenri’ahn sorcery. Three days since, after determining that she could be anywhere in all of Teyvat, they sent word to the Milleleth first in hope for some confidential international support, and then to the Traveler, in hope for a miracle. Two days since Ningguang herself sent a falcon back, with word that they were aware of the mysterious scorched rune and that Captain Beidou was similarly missing. One day since Albedo received word from Forest Watcher Tighnari and they learned that General Mahamatra Cyno was missing as well.
Kaeya was at a loss of what to do. It was a position he was seldom in and he hated it with every fiber of his being.
He rode back into the city with an air of defeat he couldn’t shake. The domain was a bust, as he expected. Sure, the Abyss Order was trying to set up there, but there were no signs that they recently abducted anyone at all, much less Lisa or any other Vision holder.
Considering the scope—because Kaeya didn’t believe in coincidences, not for things like this—he was honestly certain that they weren’t in Mondstadt anymore, which severely limited what they could do. Kaeya rarely felt constrained by the badge of the Knights, as he was well accustomed to bending the boundaries to suit his needs, but in this, he understood why Diluc felt it suffocating. One of their own was abducted, but they could not freely investigate the entire globe.
Sure, one or two of them could take a leave and investigate personally, but there was still so much ground to cover. The best course of action was to continue to use his resources and gather intelligence—but even Kaeya could be impatient. He wouldn’t act on it—not yet—but it grated against him all the same.
With that in mind, Kaeya slipped into Angel’s Share without any fanfare, frankly too tired for it. He was a few minutes late for the arranged meeting with his contact, so he just had to hope that he didn’t get skittish and run off. Though, judging by the way the usual crowd bit their greetings in half, faltering, when they laid eyes on him, perhaps Kaeya himself was the greatest risk at scaring the guy off. He paused for a moment too long halfway along the stairs to school himself.
Fortunately, the scholar was still there. Shaking like a leaf, but still there. Kaeya slid into the seat across from him with as much ease as he could muster.
“A-ah.” The scholar jumped. Kaeya knew that he had been banned from the Akademiya for one reason or another, but it wasn’t as if the Knights of Favonius were affiliated with the matra. “Sir, wh-what do I owe the pleasure?”
The code was given sloppily, but just as well, because clearly, they both wanted this to be over soon. “Now, you don’t owe me anything—unless you mind feeding my curiosity,” Kaeya responded, obedient to the script. At first, at least. “I’m an avid reader, you know.”
“Oh? Um.” He reached for his bag and then stopped. “Isn’t…? I mean, do you have questions, or…?”
“I’ll cut to the chase. Anything you have to share will be appreciated, but I am more interested in the book. I’m a quick study, you know.”
The scholar’s pride started to override his fear. No wonder such a timid man got banned from the Akademiya. (Of course, Kaeya was thorough, so he knew it was because most of his subjects of research were stolen, on top of his penchant for wanting to practice non-standard elemental forms, poisoning a few ley lines in the process.) He balked at Kaeya’s confidence, swinging the pendulum from ‘clearly didn’t want to be seen here’ to being two seconds away from volunteering for more work. Which would be convenient for Kaeya, except he honestly didn’t need him. Just his book.
“It’s a highly sophisticated language,” the scholar argued. “Their alchemic formulas even more so. Assuming you know the principles of elemental conversion and flow dynamics.”
Kaeya really didn’t, but this guy didn’t need to know that. “Oh? Eager to volunteer for active research, I see? I was under the impression you were retired.” Or, rather, on probation. Handing off materials in a different country skirted around that, but if Kaeya was right about his healthy fear of matra, then…
“O-oh, not at all!” he backtracked, predictably so. “I was just concerned whether or not this was the appropriate text for you.”
“Much appreciated.” What a piece of work. “Not to worry, though, I have quite the team at my disposal.” Which was to say Albedo. Reading the language was one thing, but Kaeya only knew the bare minimum about ley line manipulation, which was frustrating in this one context, but not a deal breaker.
With that, Kaeya took the text and watched as the scholar scurried off. He flipped through the text, grimacing slightly at its poor condition, but that couldn’t be helped. It was impressive enough that it had been preserved for hundreds of years in some desert library.
Not even Albedo was terribly knowledgeable about the concept of ley-line based teleportation, but it was possible that they could discern at least a vague impression of the destination based on the rune itself, though that required a fundamental knowledge of how it worked. Hopefully this would help. Otherwise they were back to square one, unless one of Kaeya’s contacts saw something new that they hadn’t in the past forty-eight hours or so.
“Surely you have better things to do than just mope here,” came a voice that Kaeya was not mentally prepared to deal with. But, that was just what Kaeya earned by lingering in Angel’s Share without so much as ordering a drink.
“Ah, Master Diluc. Actually yes, I do have better things to do. I hope you don’t mind missing my patronage for tonight,” Kaeya excused, knowing full well that Diluc would be ecstatic at him leaving. Though maybe not without another dig at how useless the Knights were in this case. Which would be…accurate, unfortunately.
Instead, Diluc frowned, putting down his serving tray just to better stare at Kaeya. “You haven’t been getting sleep,” he accused out of nowhere.
It was correct, of course, but absolutely uncalled for.
“I’ve been busy. Doing my job.” Maybe Kaeya’s curt response was also uncalled for, but it was also correct.
Strangely enough, Diluc didn’t respond in kind. Instead, he averted his gaze and glared at the floor for a time, likely biting his tongue with a considerable amount of effort. Then again, for all that Diluc was cold, he wasn’t cruel. Perhaps even he had some compassion in the fact that it was one of Kaeya’s friends—not just a coworker—that vanished so spectacularly. Or maybe it was because Jean was Lisa’s even closer friend, and for all that he hated Kaeya, Diluc could never hate or disrespect Jean.
“I have… done my own investigations,” Diluc said stiffly, angrily aware that Kaeya knew of his midnight gallavants. Kaeya would readily accept his intel, however, even if that solidified Kaeya’s uselessness in his mind. “I’ve come up short as well.”
Oh.
In their mutual failure, Kaeya sighed openly. Without Diluc taking digs at him, there was no need for Kaeya to return the favor, so he closed his eye and allowed himself to pretend that Diluc was just his brother, and not someone who would use his weakness against him. He might regret it later, but truthfully, he was exhausted.
“If you don’t already know, it’s an international incident. I know your contacts are not scarce either, but the perpetrators are a veritable needle in a haystack at the moment,” Kaeya said, willing to share, though he doubted this was anything new to Diluc. He already knew that Vile would have passed on the intel, but truthfully, Kaeya had already found ways to assimilate Diluc’s network into his own, even if it wasn’t in its entirety.
Diluc grunted, which was an affirmation on the ‘already knowing’ thing. What was more surprising was when Diluc continued to be amiable. “If there’s anything you’re keeping an eye out for, I’ll…be sure to pass it along,” he said, nearly choking on the words.
Kaeya blinked, and blinked again. Technically, technically, Diluc’s extra eyes would be a great boon. And technically, Kaeya did know just who he would want a tavern keeper to keep an eye out for. Diluc was one of the few people who would actually know how to spot them… but that was its own terror. Because that could very well be giving Diluc ample reason to act on his justified mistrust.
…but Diluc would know eventually, right? If he was looking into it?
(As the years stretched onwards, Kaeya had less reasons and less motivation to hide.)
So Kaeya placed the book in his satchel, swallowed his pride and his paranoia alike, and accepted the help that he hoped had no strings. “Khaenri’ahns,” he replied, keeping his voice low and ignoring the way Diluc’s eyebrows climbed upward. “There’s a chance it’s just knowledgeable fanatics, or the Abyss’s work, but all signs so far point towards one of the surviving groups of purebloods. The residuals are a perfect match.”
“I see,” was all Diluc said, his surprise clamped down behind a clipped reply.
Diluc didn’t offer anything else, at that moment, so Kaeya left. He needed to get this book to Albedo and make sure he was getting some form of rest, and then he needed to update Jean. With any luck, there’ll be news from either Sumeru or Liyue. Or better yet, Lumine. (She probably knew more about Khaenri’ah then he did at this point. Which… wasn’t a terribly tall order, all things considered. Maybe more than Albedo, which was more impressive.)
Regardless, all Kaeya could really do at the moment was hope for a breakthrough.
—o0o—
Nahida had never lost anyone before. Not anyone she had tried to find, at least. Granted, she was in rather new territory, having companions that knew her personally, and not some one-sided affair, but it was disconcerting to have that ripped away.
As soon as the reports of a loud commotion near Cyno’s home had reached the matra, and by extension to her, he had just… vanished. No Cyno and no perpetrators.
Her mental link with the General Mahamatra was just as strong as the one she had with Lumine and Alhaitham. If he was in Sumeru, even out in the desert (to a degree) then Nahida would be able to sense him. Doubly so if they were in the same city. However, just as she had sensed him fall unconscious and she reached out in concern, the connection slipped through her grasp. At first, she feared that something had happened to break it (anything from a severing of her power to death) but the reports of the Corp of Thirty who arrived on scene indicated that there was nobody to be found. As if they had been teleported away. Which, considering the markings left behind, seemed entirely likely.
Ley line powered teleportation was a rare thing, a legend in academia and usually only employed by beings of high elemental energy, who could disperse their form easily enough. Although, there was a notable exception, and that was the one who interfaced with the long forgotten and ignored waypoints of Teyvat.
“It’s not impossible,” Lumine mused. “I’ve crafted my own waypoints before, with alchemy. Maybe the symbol left behind is a form of that.”
Thank goodness she had been able to reach out to the Traveler, at least. Nahida was out of her depth enough as it was… As much as she didn’t want to always ask so much of her, Nahida was relieved to have her. Besides, Cyno was her friend as well, and apparently there was a well known captain in Liyue that Lumine said disappeared similarly.
“I believe it is,” Nahida confirmed. “Unfortunately, the teachings of Khaenri’ah lie outside of Irminsul’s reach…or the knowledge was somehow lost or corrupted in the Cataclysm, so I can’t find the exact meaning. However, the practice has been recorded. It is highly dangerous for humans, though…”
“Wait, are the waypoints dangerous?!” Paimon squealed, shocked by the notion. “We use those all of the time… Unless, is it because Lumine isn’t really human either?”
“I think the waypoints are different. They always feel… stable, like they’re built into the earth,” Lumine explained, or at least tried to.
Nahida nodded. “They are. Whichever god, or group of them, built them long ago did so meticulously. They are connected not just to the ley lines, but to the roots of Irminsul. It would take a lot of disruption to render them unsafe, especially since Lumine’s unique elemental control is so perfectly synced with them. However, to just use the ley lines… Any disorder along the way can upset the link. Not to mention that transit involves converting one’s body to elemental energy… That has its own risks.”
Fortunately, as a holder of a Vision, Cyno shouldn’t have been injured by being moved like that… Not to say that there was anything safe about being abducted.
“Wait—it’s a link. So there has to be a prearranged destination, right?”
“Oh!” Lumine was onto something. One of the reasons ley line travel fell out of practice was its limited range of (safe) destinations. The ley lines of the receiving end would have to be very strong. Like the tree they were on now, although Nahida would know if they were still in Sumeru.
She relayed this to Lumine, and it was fortunate that her moniker of “the Traveler” was well earned, because she could tell that she already had a few ideas in mind.
“I imagine it’ll look similar to the scene of the crime with elemental sight, right?” Lumine guessed. “All blue and shimmery?”
“Most likely, if not more so. Unfortunately, now that it’s been a few days… Depending on the location used, it might have reverted back by now.”
If only Nahida had been able to do more on her own sooner… Or if she had reached out to Lumine and Paimon as soon as the incident happened, perhaps…
“Hey.” Lumine laid a hand on Nahida’s shoulder, and she looked up to see Lumine’s and Paimon’s matching looks of encouragement. “Don’t blame yourself. We’ll get them back, one way or another.”
“Yeah! Lumine is always doing impossible things! And Paimon is the best helper there is!”
“Thanks, you two.” The encouragement helped, although Nahida would only be relieved once this was resolved. “I’ll keep looking through Irminsul. I’m sorry I can’t do more than that…”
“You’re Sumeru’s archon. That’s important too. Don’t worry, Paimon and I will reach out to who we know, too. Anything you can find from Irmunsul will be of great help. Trust me.”
Nahida eased, ever so slightly. Lumine’s confidence was infectious, and considering her long list of feats, Nahida was inclined to believe in her odds.
“I do.”
—o0o—
Lumine was hardly halfway down the path that led into the heart of Sumeru City when an Eremite mercenary ran up to her, out of breath.
“You’re—” He huffed. “The Traveler, right?”
“She is,” Paimon answered for her, assuming her role as the more talkative of the two. That was fine by Lumine, especially when it came to the general strangers. She could spend more of her energy observing than engaging.
“You have mail,” the mercenary—a delivery man, she now realized—announced, pulling two envelopes from his satchel. “Two of ‘em, to be exact. Both are express.”
Urgent, that translated to. Lumine’s interest peaked considerably. What were the odds this was related? Knowing her track record, it was high. It was already shaping up to be something big when Beidou and Cyno both went missing. She happened to be in Liyue at the time Beidou vanished, pulled into help quickly by Kazuha and the rest of the anxious Crux crew. It was something of a chance that she went to Sumeru soon after, hoping to find answers regarding the clearly Khaenri’ahn runes and magic residuals left behind. Not long after stepping foot on Sumeran soil, Nahida was already tugging at their mental link, in distress herself over Cyno’s ambush and subsequent disappearance.
“Two?” Paimon echoed. “From who?!”
“Dunno. That ain’t my business. I just know one’s from Mondstadt, and the other from Inazuma. Bigshots, I suppose.”
Lumine took the letters, and she knew the delivery man was right. One bore the seal of the Knights of Favonius, and the other… Well, if the ornate seal wasn’t enough to give it away, then the overwhelming electro residuals were: it was directly from Ei.
Something was definitely brewing.
—o0o—
Diluc would be lying if he ever insisted that he had never kept an eye out for other Khaenri’ahns before. After Kaeya admitted his… purpose in Mondstadt (his initial purpose, at least, because while Kaeya was a liar, Diluc couldn’t actually believe he was a traitor, anymore), Diluc had been wary of the imminent invasion.
Yet, none of Diluc’s own observations ever amounted to much. Either it was still in the ‘long game’ phase—evident by Kaeya’s early introduction to Mondstadt—or Kaeya had already dealt with it. Likely when Diluc was off dealing with the Fatui and their accursed influence. Because there was only a single man that could have fit the description that Diluc had ever personally witnessed, and his time keeping a subtle eye on him amounted into seeing Lumine take up conversation with him and then a partnership. Anyone in the Traveler’s circle was not anyone Diluc would spend a large amount of effort in watching, since it was clearly more or less handled. Granted, Lumine did have a habit of befriending anyone, which was a habit Diluc stressed over at times, but she wasn’t a fool either. It could easily be her own way of watching them.
That particular man hadn’t been around lately, however. Neither had anyone else that Diluc would deem suspicious, in that category.
It was rather frustrating, but Diluc didn’t commit to this kind of work because it was easy.
The likelihood that the people who kidnapped Lisa were still in Mondstadt was incredibly low. Neither Charles nor himself noticed a sudden lack of any one presence in the tavern, so it was probably never a frequented location of the perpetrators. Diluc wished he had noticed something out on the streets beforehand, but the truth was, these guys had been good. Nothing had stood out as suspicious. Especially when there had been no indication to look until it had been too late.
The crime scene itself was the only real clue to be had. Diluc had looked some himself, after the Knights came through, but this was one of the rare cases where Diluc didn’t expect to find anything they hadn’t. Slow as they were as an organization, Diluc trusted in Albedo’s ability—being the one personally on the scene—and he had no real delusions that he could outdo the alchemist in matters of forensics…or Khaenri’ahn magic.
Diluc wanted to believe that there was still something missing, but truthfully, it was more likely that the trail was simply cold.
As Diluc contemplated where his efforts were best directed—because simply looking out for people who most likely weren’t even in the country anymore was a waste after this long—he was somewhat dragged back into the same task, albeit from another angle.
“His name is Dainsleif,” Lumine stated, an underlying strain in her voice revealing her shared portion of exhaustion. “Tall, blond, always wearing all black. Doesn’t like other people, but not aggressive about it. He usually sits in a corner alone. If you see him… Please, let him know that I need to speak with him.”
—o0o—
“I still think it could be a coincidence,” Madam Kujou Sara insisted, her displeasure leaking through her uptight voice—though for once, Heizou was confident in stating that it was not directed at him.
She had walked in on him consulting his map, as she had several times in the past few days, her anxious desire to see this case solved causing her to give into her restless habits. As for Heizou… Well. There was a part of him that was thrilled at the magnitude and cleverness of the incident, as it was a truly challenging mystery, but that wasn’t an assurance when lives were on the line. And when it was becoming increasingly evident that solving the mystery may not solve the case. He may not even solve the mystery, as weeks passed and more and more leads were proving to be dead ends.
Kujou lightly traced one of his “medium-likely” locations in Chinju Forest with her finger, eyeing the lines from the Byakko Plain and the Grand Narakami Shrine leading into it. “Even if Guuji Yae’s and Kuki’s abductions are connected, despite the lack of common ground, it seems extravagant to consider all of these other factors—from other nations, no less. They don’t even match in methods. If we’re bogged down by red herrings, then…”
She clamped down on her pessimistic thought, which was good, because it saved Heizou the trouble.
“One, they are rather similar, in method and scope,” Heizou corrected, honestly grateful for the opportunity to verbalize some of the clues once more. He had begun to get stuck, admittedly, and while Heizou was very capable on his own, that didn’t mean he didn’t benefit from a partner. Sadly, Lumine and Paimon were busy doing more legwork, along with constantly going back and forth between the nations to consolidate the ongoing clues—mostly from an alchemist in Mondstadt, some detective in Liyue, and someone in Sumeru who Heizou was mostly certain was the literal archon.
So, Heizou took advantage of Kujou being the relatively calmer of his frequent visitors, and he ticked off the key notes on his fingers. “A total of five confirmed people disappeared on the same day, staggered apart within a short timeframe. Three of those disappearances confirm the use of some manner of teleportation. All five victims wield electro Visions. Based on the intel shared with me, there seems to be a common thread of non-Vision related magic knowledge as well. Two Spantamaad graduates, our very own Guuji, and another with a background as a shrine maiden. Now, the illustrious Captain Beidou is something of the odd-one out; however, her exploits are vast enough to easily have brushed against the non-standard. These are individuals who possess extraordinary knowledge and disposition, I am sure—enough to make it lucrative enough to spirit them away so spectacularly.”
Kujou curled her fingers into her elbow, dark feathers sprouting just above them. She was still stressed, but more thoughtful now—and that was precisely why Heizou found her to be a decent sounding board.
“You seem certain they are alive,” she stated flatly, smothering the hope and distrust alike. It was a prompt nonetheless, and Heizou accepted it graciously.
“There was too much effort into the disappearing act for it to be a simple murder. The effort is wasted on it. There’s no ransom demands in any of the countries, nor have any bodies been found. They’re useful, for something…” As to what that something was, Heizou would admit he was clueless. Then again, it wasn’t explicitly necessary for him to know the reason, so long as he could find them, even though method and motive were usually largely intertwined. However, for the same reason he suspected there was a connection, Heizou himself was also somewhat precluded from the answer: there was something ancient at play. Some force, and the pursuit of a force, beyond what average mortals had access to, or would even think of. Beyond that, this would likely be unobvious to even the gods, for even the Raiden Shogun seemed to be unable to find them, despite looking. Heizou couldn’t rely on any of his previous knowledge for this: only pure intuition.
“I still think you’re basing too much of this off of events that are not confirmed to be related,” Kujou circled back, sullen. “We should be focusing on searching the sea and islands around Narukami for any signs of the missing persons and the perpetrators, instead of chasing coincidences and meanings.”
Around Narukami… Yes, the island of the crime had been thoroughly searched. There were precious little clues outside of the signs of struggle, however. No vehicles, no burnt sigils on the ground. There was evidence that a rather largely built individual was among the kidnappers, so carrying was on the table, but that was a short term solution. Boats were a likely escape method, and the Tri-Commission has been monitoring all sailing vessels closely for that very reason. Though in that regard, they were most certainly too late.
Heizou stared into the heart of Narukami island. At Mt. Yugou. That was the problem, wasn’t it? No signs of teleporting, no easy ways to transport an unconscious person without getting caught, especially on shrine territory… Except for the hazardous foot of the mountain, but there was no outlet there.
Unless.
Five figures of note, all taken in sequence. Lisa Minci, Mahamatra Cyno, Captain Beidou, Kuki Shinobu, and finally, Guuji Yae. Mt. Yugou was the final destination, and that was by design.
He pinned a colored tack to the bottom of the mountain, where the newly drained lake exposed the roots of the great tree.
“I don’t believe in coincidences.”
—o0o—
In Yelan’s professional opinion, it was far easier to find people who did not want to be found rather than people who had gone missing. In fact, Yelan was usually the one making people disappear. This usually wasn’t an issue. Yelan wasn’t a detective for a reason; her expertise was in different areas and this was of no bother to her or her employers.
Regrettably, this put her at a disadvantage when Captain Beidou disappeared off the face of the harbor. She wished she could make Ningguang’s wishes come true and snap her favorite chess partner back into existence, really, but Yelan was not in the business of granting miracles. Not like that. (Which was a shame, because Beidou was good company, and Yelan didn’t want to think too hard about her being one of the people who died too soon, to uncontrollable causes.)
The mystic and ancient mysteries starting to surround the case were also outside of Yelan’s purview, though it did make her pay more attention. Liyue as a whole would be affected by bozos who could manipulate ley lines in new and exciting ways. That piqued her interest for a whole slew of reasons. It gave Yelan ample reason to be involved with the case, if only passively. Though in the month and some change since this incident took place, there unfortunately wasn’t much to be done—until Lumine gave her a lead, that was.
In the end, Yelan’s role amounted to being no different than what she normally did: finding someone who didn’t want to be found. Not that he did a particularly good job at lying low, if that was his goal, but he certainly didn’t make himself to be sociable.
If Yelan was on this case on her own, she might be more interested in figuring out what tall-dark-and-brooding even was, being as she found records of his existence upwards to three hundred years ago, and clearly he wasn’t an adeptus, and there were aspects of his ability that reminded her too much of her time in the Abyss. However, that was rather insignificant in present circumstances, and her intuition didn’t label him a threat. She would pass him along to Lumine and be done with it.
“Dainsleif, right?” she said in lieu of any paltry greeting as she slid into the seat in front of him, in the back corner of a small town teahouse on the southern coast of Liyue. People came here when they were in the business of walking, not sailing; based on her intel, he had probably walked from Sumeru, but took the scenic way to avoid the Chasm. (And major roads where patrols were posted, whether it be the Milleleth or the Forest Rangers.)
Perfect for openly mysterious swordsmen who wore all black and never smiled.
To his credit, he did not startle, though he did level a cautious glare in her direction. How edgy.
“That is me,” he said simply and coolly, just a few degrees away from being cold. It was a smart response, really, giving away nothing she didn’t know, and revealing no cause for suspicion either. Being something inhuman, traveling Teyvat among the human societies, he must have some practice.
Oh, she wished she could pick him apart more, but sadly he was a flight risk she had no business detaining. Not to mention that, according to her last check in, Lumine was very interested in his help, so much so that she was willing to spread the word about it, despite the action clearly making her uncomfortable.
So she would stick to playing messenger, for now.
“Your traveler friend is looking for you,” Yelan started, looking for recognition in her vague opening. Naturally, it was still muted suspicion. “Lumine asked that you meet her near Guili Plains, should I run into you.”
Like magic, his expression shifted at the mention of her name, and he visibly calmed a bit more. So they were comrades. How quaint.
“Is that all?” he asked.
“Pretty much—aside from it being somewhat urgent, I have gathered.” Then again, any missing friends was an urgent matter to the benevolent traveler; she was a good person, in that regard. Not that Yelan wasn’t also invested in this case, or concerned about this being an omen of a true crisis down the line.
He hummed thoughtfully before taking one last sip of his tea and then gathering himself up to leave.
“I imagine it would be.”
—o0o—
Dainsleif would rather not be in Inazuma. It was enclosed, heavily enforced by Archon rule, and far too close to ancient powers—some of the same that led to Khaenri’ah’s downfall in the first place.
The latter reason was, unfortunately, why he was currently in Inazuma.
“Thank you again for coming,” Lumine said as they walked closer to the mountain. With every step, the air grew thicker with electro energy, almost unbearably so, and Dainsleif was left to wonder if that was a natural occurrence in this area or a product of the environment being tampered with. It was hard to tell, because Inazuma had always been overly ripe with elemental energy for as long as he could remember. In the land of eternity, even the fleeting lightning lingered.
He suppressed a sigh, wanting nothing more than to not be here, but allowing that it was inevitable. Dainsleif was not irresponsible, after all. “Of course,” he allowed, because really, his involvement was inevitable from the moment Lumine reached out to him with the news that there was a sealed Khaenri’ahn portal on top of an Archon’s place of power. There was much that Dainsleif would not involve himself with, but averting another scourge called down from the heavens was high on that list. Dainsleif was no prince and no leader, but in the lack of those positions, he would ensure that his people do not commit the sin of provocation under any means necessary.
She scrutinized him for a moment while Paimon fidgeted. When Lumine looked back to the path in front of her with a shrug, Paimon took it as license to talk. The fact that the talkative fairy waited at all bemused him in a way he was wary of.
“Whoever made the magic circle kidnapped some of our friends,” Paimon informed him in a small voice, and now Dainsleif was aware of why Lumine was so fiercely determined, even coldly so. To them, it wasn’t a matter of global peace, but rather, a personal quest. Dainsleif could not fault them for that. After all, it was a merit to have people one wished to protect in the first place.
“We tried all sorts of things to open the portal and find out where it goes, but nothing is working! It even hurts most people just to be around—not even Itto could withstand it for long, and he’s crazy stubborn,” Paimon rambled on as they walked. “And… Ei couldn’t open it either. She thinks she might be able to remove it, but then we would never find out where it goes, and we wouldn’t get our friends back.”
So, even the Archon herself had failed… Or, rather, even a god was compassionate enough to the cause. It wasn’t something Dainsleif would have expected of the unflinching Electro Archon, but then again, the Traveler had a way of bending hearts. He had indeed heard of her exploits in ending the Vision Hunt Decree, and since war no longer raged, it was sensible to believe she did it more or less peacefully. More, perhaps, for Paimon (and by extension, Lumine) to be on a name-basis with a god.
As long as he himself didn’t have to interact with her, then Dainsleif would not bother too much with the details. He wanted to focus on the task at hand and be done with it. “You said that nobody could go near the site. Am I to understand that you two are unaffected?” he asked, wanting to confirm his suspicions about the exact nature of this magic.
Khaenri’ahn mages were—in their height of power—naturally prideful. From Gold, who angered the heavens with her hubris, to the average scholar who presumed that their intellect could not be understood, it was especially common for any practitioner of the elements to hoard their knowledge from the overworld, precluding them just as they precluded those who lived without gods. Since the basis of their magic, their pseudo-element harvested from the space between and below the ones favored by the gods, was already misaligned with so much the overworld was built on, a negative force to a positive one, it was a common practice to allow their powers to repel their counterpart with full prejudice. With some finer points of magic that Dain never understood, even more conditions could be laid out or altered. It was a practical way to safeguard their secrets.
However, Lumine was not from this world, and neither did Paimon seem to be overly connected to the commonalities of Teyvat. If they weren’t affected, but everyone else was, then it became more likely that this plot was the work of cursed Khaenri’ahns who had yet to succumb to the Abyss… an increasingly rare occurrence, in this present age. It peaked Dainsleif’s interest and dread alike.
Paimon nodded. “Yeah, we don’t really feel much. It doesn’t affect anyone from Khaenri’ah either. Otherwise, it seems to hurt those who have Visions the most…”
Exactly as he surmised, then. “I see. In that case, I likely can be of service.”
It took Dainsleif a touch too long to gather the greatly implied addition that Paimon knew resolutely that Khaenri’ahns were unaffected because there were other Khaenri’ahns present to test this theory. It wasn’t until they descended to the roots of the Sakura tree to find two more companions of Lumine’s in the midst of investigating the seal for it to sink in.
This, Dainsleif decided, was worse than being in Inazuma on top of a god’s sacred structure.
Kaeya Alberich, the pureblooded Khaeri’ahn who was born after the curse, in a bloodline he had not known the true history of, and an eerily humanoid homunculus made by Gold were both present, watching him with varying expressions of interest and caution. Lumine had likely shared her plans of involving him, because neither were surprised. Just wary. For good reason, too; Dainsleif knew of both of them, but tolerated their presence in this world on the virtue that no catastrophe had happened in their wake and that they were not in Dainsleif’s immediate vicinity. The latter point was now untrue.
The homunculus, especially, made Dainsleif wary. While he seemed stable enough as an alchemist in Mondstadt, the truth was, every one of Gold’s creations corrupted spectacularly, one way or another. The gods never took kindly to life made without their permission. Worst yet, he practiced the same alchemy Gold did, with the ability to create life himself, just as he was created. It was a power wielded with great consequence.
“Dainsleif, right?” the Alberich child began, remembering him from that one encounter they had in Sumeru, however brief. It was rather unfortunate, but Kaeya did not seem to know enough to be a real threat in the ways Dainsleif had once feared. “Lumine had hoped you would help. You have our thanks.”
“Think nothing of it,” he replied, trying to prioritize. His misgivings about the Mondstadt dwellers aside, Dainsleif could admit that the issue at hand was larger, especially now that he was facing it. It was sophisticated work, far beyond Dainleif’s own capabilities. A royal mage, perhaps, if one still existed. It was a transport circle, etched on the ground and connected directly to the roots, utilizing a great deal of its power. Safeguards and barriers were etched into the magic, keeping out any followers, but it was too grand a display for it to go away or deactivate once used. A two-way portal, necessary for a return trip. And to leave it in such a place… How utterly brazen.
“There is a specific energy signature it is keyed to respond to,” the homunculus informed him, free with his information despite the wariness he still held. He didn’t fear Kaeya Alberich in the same way, clearly, but not only was Dainsleif the stranger here, he was also the one who remembered the carnage that had been enabled—in part, at least—by his creator.
“I have not been able to mimic it, or create it myself. However… as a practitioner of Khemia, I am too attuned to the ley lines in order to wield the nth element. I suspect that is precisely what is required to activate the array.”
He did not need the reminder.
“Dainsleif…”
Lumine spoke once more, pulling the attention to herself. He had a feeling a request was coming, and from her, it was bound to be perilous. She was like her brother, in that way… Though still with a pure heart.
“If you open it, I’m going in. I’m going to find the people who went missing. Or at least… the ones responsible for it. However, it’s hard to say what will lie on the other side, or what will be required to come back. Will you come with us?”
The last thing Dainsleif wanted was to work in a party, much less one involving Alberich and Gold’s creation. Lumine and Paimon… he had come to accept. He did recognize the need to not just handle the array, but rather, stop the people responsible. This predisposition, as well as the contagious courage granted by the fierceness of Lumine’s golden eyes, was enough to make Dainsleif make questionable decisions regarding his own sanity.
“I will.”
“Good.” She nodded, almost shaky. “Thank you. Now… can you activate it?”
Dainsleif approached the array, feeling how it tugged at his heels. Yes, it was a brazen display indeed, arrogant in its design and mocking in its presence. The mage behind was confident that none would follow, calling the whole of Inazuma—the whole of the overworld, even—fools who could not achieve this pinnacle of humanity. It was a bloodied knife marked with initials, left at the scene of a crime, while the murderer was safely hidden away, believing themself untrackable.
However, this mage did not consider that the humans of Teyvat, too, possessed unquenchable determination. Neither did they consider that they were not the only ones who knew of these lost arts. Thus did the cocky stone become sand.
Dainsleif preferred martial arts, but once the nth element was etched into him, wielding it was second nature. It wasn’t always necessary, nor did he fully understand it, but it came to him nonetheless, a reminder that he did not belong to the world just as this element did not belong among its brethren—a shadow of the ley lines, always present but never incorporated. He held his palm over the center of the array, and he tugged it open, as if he were welcomed all along.
Thus did this mage themself become the fool.
“Of course I can.”