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Khaenri’ah, The nation that strays from teyvat, and the blind spot of the Gods. It was built solely by humanity, mostly by a unknown blonde that was considered the foundation of the nation, supporting it with a ridiculous amount of knowledge they have.
A lot of the people here are always dreaming of exploring the wide globe, and find the so called “Nature” from other parts of the world, since after all, this part where we live in doesn’t sustain that.
Dark, broody, eerie. That’s what Khaenri’ah is like. However, I am far different from them. I am proud to consider this nation as the pride of us humans, the pride of humanity, for everything here was created without assistance of the Gods, after all, but by the never ending wisdom beings own to sustain artificial life.
As for my case, I despise the Gods. Back when I was young, every kid back then wanted to see Gods. But from the very start, I never liked them. In that age, I didn’t need to have a good reason to hate them, but based on the stories about them, and how they do things that beings like us can do and get overly worshipped for it was ridiculous to me.
However, now I have more reasons to confirm my hatred for such monsters that own the name “God”. They are destroying the nation I adored and consider my pride.
“Priestess, there are more injured here!”
A voice called out, calling out the title I carry, the priestess. Ironic, right? How can a woman who despises the Gods so much, be called a priestess? I refuse to even enlighten my title, for I beg them too many times to call me a healer instead.
“It’s healer.” I said, with a rushed tone as I hurry to the injuries. All of the soldiers were unresponsive, though alive. They were traumatized by the devastating war that everyone knows only having one ending.
Lost. We could never go up against the Gods.
I hated how even I know this fact. It’s impossible for us beings to go up against overpowered and questionably blessed monsters.
However, there was one different from us. The captain of the knights, Dainsleif, an old friend I know. We were good friends before the war, but like any other connections, our relationship was slowly neglected mid-war.
“That look of devastation is humiliating. Change that look in your eye, and fight like the knight you are.” Speak of the devil. The man I had just described, scolds the hopeless knight I was treating, fiercely and coldly.
“Your confidence in being able to protect this half obliterated land is admirable.” I said, while the scolded knight before me remains silent. “If you have came here to my place to scare the patients, kindly leave.” I say, my voice remaining steady, but my feelings seeped out despite all my efforts to sound rather nonchalant. I’m only a living being, after all. Feelings are inevitable.
He opened his mouth slightly, as if about to defend himself, but he decided to halt his words, and looked away. “I apologize for my rudeness.” He muttered out, with a quiet sigh as his fingers reach to massage his temple. He may have not lost the hope we all did, but he was still a human; a human who can feel the slithering despair traveling him.
This was war, after all.
I held his hand gently, and gave him my small, tired, yet, sincere smile. “Calm down. It’ll be over soon.” I say, softly, attempting to comfort the man before me. But, who am I kidding? Dainsleif is a clever man, and I know that. We both know the time this war is concluded, will be our end as well.
He softly smiled at my efforts of comfort. It’s been a while since I saw the corner of his lips turn up, even just slightly. We never had a special relationship, but if being the only one I have any sorts of friendship with is considered special, then he’s vip.
“Y/n. I never ask for much, but don’t die.” He says softly, his hands gently and slowly wrapping around my waist, allowing me to stray from his touch whenever. “Please.” He added, his head now resting on my shoulder. I knew why he was so desperate, I was the only one with him throughout everything in his life, and it’s mutual. If I were to lose him, I’d beg the Gods I wouldn’t dare to bat an eye to, platonically.
“You too.” I said quietly, accepting his hug, but not giving it back. He softly caressed my cheeks, looking into my eyes as if this will be our final look of each other’s eyes. His blue eyes that never sparkled, but always shined was almost conversing with me, and I knew him well enough to hear the voice of his sight.
“Don’t die.”
Were the unsaid words spoken through his gaze. “I got you the remaining Inteyvats. I apologize I only brought two instead of a bouquet of them.” He said, expressing his regrets as if it was his fault for the extinction of them.
Inteyvats, one of the few flowers in Khanri’ah, the flowers we both cherished.
I got the two flowers, and tucked his grown hair behind his ear, applying the flower behind his ear. “If you lose that, I’ll get mad.” I say, jokingly, but I was serious.
I know Dainsleif, he isn’t irresponsible with his possessions. The only way he loses those flowers, is if he loses his life. He understands that. “I oath to never lose these.” He says, doing the same to the flower in my hand, but now on my ear.
“I don’t want to beg you to swear you’ll never lose these, but please put in the effort. That, I’ll beg.” He says, as if I was going to die the following day.
In other words, he was begging me to cherish my life more; to put an effort to take care of myself.
“I’m not careless, don’t worry.” I say gently. This was our first talk since a year of lacked communication. It felt, nice. It was a shame the moment was taken away from me when they called him to come back to the forces, to command the few soldiers left. I gently caress the petals of the flower he places on my ear.
I will definitely cherish this flower, and bring it not to my grave, but to the life after this one. To live with a fragment of our memories in every lifetime I had remaining was the only thing I’m ever begging to the tyrannous Gods.
Numb. Is this a terrifying feeling? I don’t know either. I feel, horrifyingly numb, but also peacefully numb. My vision now slowly blurring, as I see him, Dainsleif, run to me. Forget run, he was sprinting, skipping, tripping, crawling. His eyes completely widened, while I only ever hear muffled screams of my name over and over again as his frame grows big enough for the blur to lessen.
My lower half being obliterated was a terrifying sight, that explains his broken screams. “Y/n, please don’t- no, you shouldn’t.” He begged, as if commanding me. I let out the lightest, and an exhausted chuckle, as he hugged my torso, my head resting on his chest. “The flower, I apologize. It’s ruined now.” I say, quietly and hoarsely, lacking the strength to offer the half burnt flower.
He was cherishing the sound of my voice, aware my last words can be the ones I had just spoken out, or the upcoming ones. “I never had the courage to say it, but please listen to me.” I say, a few words barely muttered out, but he was clever enough to understand, while caressing and cherishing the remaining warmth on my cheeks.
“I always loved you. I always assumed it was all platonic, but look at my pathetic self only ever admitting this as death impatiently awaits me-“ I was cut off, with a kiss. A gentle one. One hand on the pulse on my neck, and one never letting go of my cheek. “Once your pulse silents, I’ll join you. So please don’t be impatient, I’ll never leave you alone.” He says, his voice very gentle, comforting.
I saw a dagger next to him. I hate how I didn’t want him to live on without me. I truly and selfish, I don’t deserve him.
I lost the strength to talk, focusing the rest on my eyes and lungs. To never look away from his gorgeous eyes, the eyes I never wanted to look away from. My breathing slows down as time passes, and I rest my head on his shoulder, as he never lets me go. My torn torso on his lap, as his arms wrap around me, gently caressing my hair with one hand, in fact, he was caressing every part of me, wanting to memorize the warmth and the texture of my skin, while one hand never lets go of my faint pulse.
If these damned gods have it in them to pity me, I’ll throw away every shame I have left to beg them to let me accompany him throughout his journey.
Those were my last thoughts, as my eyelids forced itself shut, making my pulse slowly, yet hastily fade away.
Silence.
So this is what death is like? Numb, silent, yet so peaceful. But, it was weird. My consciousness was still here.
“Dying is a gift far too good for a sinner such as you. You shall suffer the wreath of the angered Gods, and live for eternity as an entity far from a human.”
A voice said, not knowing where it’s from. I no longer had sight, hearing, nor smell; It was like a voice invading my mind, announcing the said news.
“….suffer the wreath of the angered Gods..”
I heard the voice once more, clearer now. It wasn’t from my mind this time, and my vision returned. It seems like someone else is being punished, however, I can’t see my body. Who am I? What am I?
“You shall live for eternity and witness the fall and rebuilt of humanity, as the loop goes on and on.”
The voice announced, though the one to own it still unknown.
“I see.”
Dainsleif’s voice remained quiet, composed, as I see his arms hugging my corpse tighter, not deciding to shed tears. My view was up on his head, I can see his nose, his blonde locks, and his long lashes. If I had the mouth, I would be smiling. I get to see him again. I bend down, now knowing I can bend, to see a dagger deep in his throat, blood seeping out, but the wound heals itself, the blood seeped out being sucked back in.
I tried to get a grasp on what exactly was I before anything else, but my question quickly answered when he got the half burnt flower on my lifeless figure’s ear. Right, why else am I only able to bend and seeing everything at this perspective?
I am the flower I gave him, the flower I commanded him to protect, not like his own life, but as his own life.
I smiled mentally, knowing I’m safe in his arms. And though he may not know it, I really am stuck with him for eternity.
Maybe the Gods are finally worth considering as creatures, no longer as monsters. For they have pitifully granted my long lived wish, it is to forever accompany you for eternity.
After five hundred years, he has yet to recognize me as his flower. What happened five hundred years ago again? I have long forgotten. Simply being with this man, as he always carefully cleans me and cherishes me, as if he knows it really is me, I get to hear the sobs he thought to never showed me, and the words he ought to reach me.
This night, he caressed my petal, with a soft smile, as he muttered words, he figured no one could hear.
“I don’t recall your face anymore, nor do I recall your voice, but our memories remain vivid. Your pulse rate is what I recall, and the feeling of comfort that I never once felt since your last breathe.” He mumbled, starting off with a sorrow tone, as his tone gradually gains slightly more enthusiasm.
“My memories has all but faded completely, but I will always remember how she too cherished these flowers.” He says, quietly, yet lovingly, gently kissing my petals. How I wished I had held him, gently tasting his lips as well, but I am well aware I should be grateful for being able to see his face everyday.
Once this curse is lifted, I oath to you to never leave your heart scarred once more.