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Chapter Text

QUEST

The Call of the Wind

Travel to the City of Mondstadt

One cloudy morning in the second week of October, Sharzad packed half her belongings (mostly books) into her inventory, left her Akasha on one of the cabinets in her bedroom, and left for Gandharva Ville with her fathers.

Once they arrived, they met up with Cyno, Tighnari, Collei, and Faruzan, who had all managed to assemble to say goodbye to Sharzad despite their busy schedules. A miracle, really, and one that Sharzad didn’t take lightly.

As a group, they walked down the path to the Chasm tunnel, which marked the border between Liyue and Sumeru. Given the perils of aquatic travel at this time of year, Sharzad had decided to take the overland route instead of any other travel method. Thankfully, she’d only have to endure one day of travel with . . . inadequate clothing, as her first overnight stop would be Liyue Harbor. There, she could buy a coat and gloves better suited to the cooler temperatures of northern Liyue and Mondstadt. Snowy weather was coming soon—it was the middle of October, after all, and Snezhnaya wasn’t the only nation that was allowed to get snowfall.

“Keep your sword on you at all times,” Cyno advised her. “The route through the Chasm is dangerous.”

“Too bad it’s the safest of my options,” Sharzad muttered. Earlier, she’d turned on the background music so she would be fully aware of any danger that approached her. “I have a knife on me, too.”

The general nodded. “Good.”

“Perhaps if you stopped procrastinating and took that Ascension Challenge, you might have an extra weapon to use,” Deshret said, crossing his arms.

Sharzad had finally reached Level 25 a few months earlier, and unfortunately, this was when she was barred from progressing further by the System. She needed to clear the Ascension Challenge, which, handily, was available no matter where she was.

Big issue: Sharzad still felt unprepared for the challenge, and so she’d been holding off. A single attempt at farming artefacts at the Spire of Solitary Enlightenment domain had sent her stumbling back out into Avidya Forest with several bleeding and burning wounds. Fighting a group of high-level Eremites was no joke, and even though she knew she should have been at least twice as strong as she was going into it (the recommended level was 59), being overpowered so easily was still a kick in the face.

Glass cannon. She knew the term from literary work, and though it didn’t completely describe her, it was good enough. Her stats sucked, and outside of raw divine power, Sharzad was basically useless if fighting anything above level 40, and anything above level 35 that fought in groups.

That was part of her plan once she got to Mondstadt: explore a ton to get better artefacts from better chests, find a domain and farm for a four or five star set if necessary , and then attempt the Ascension Challenge. Once she would be able to level herself to a higher, well, level, it would be easier to get artefacts that actually benefited her elemental abilities from Sumeru domains.

But at the moment, she had to settle for her old two Adventurer’s pieces, plus the two Berserker pieces she’d managed to get (and roll decently on) from the few higher-level chests she’d been able to find.

“I expect full reports from you,” Faruzan said primly. “Including diagrams of the puzzles you solve. Don’t want to think my lessons were for nothing, do we?”

Sharzad laughed, “I’ll send those along with my letters, don’t worry, Madam Faruzan.”

She planned on writing so many letters she may as well have been bankrupt already from the mailing fees. There were too many people who deserved to know what was going on during her future adventures.

“Be careful about what you encounter,” Tighnari said. “I know you have magic plant-identifying powers now, but there still may be phenomena and creatures the gods in your head haven’t encountered before.”

Sharzad nodded sagely. “Got it. I’ll send you samples, too, if there’s anything interesting.”

“I’ll practise my writing until I can write you my own letters,” Collei exclaimed. “Say hi to Amber for me!”

“Don’t worry, I will.” She turned to look at Cyno. “I’ll also let Lisa know you say hi.”

Cyno gave a single nod in acknowledgement, before Tighnari (in a clearly planned motion) prompted him, Collei, and Faruzan to say their goodbyes so Sharzad could be alone with her fathers. After a moment, they departed.

Sharzad waited for Faruzan’s pale hair to vanish in the trees before turning to her fathers. “Sooo, this is kind of it,” she said. “I’m not entirely sure–oof!”

In a blur of unexpected motion, Kaveh crushed her in a hug. She was too big to pick up now, but the force of the embrace was still enough to slightly raise her off the ground. It felt like he was trying to memorise every little detail of Sharzad before she vanished from his life forever.

“You’re crushing me, Dad!”

“Can you blame me?”

She chuckled. “Not in the slightest. I’ll try not to get into trouble.”

“Unfortunately for my hair, trouble finds you too easily.” Kaveh stepped back, keeping his hands on Sharzad’s shoulders. “You’d better not make me go grey before I reach thirty.”

“No promises,” she said, smiling mischievously at him. “But I’ll teleport over every once in a while. Once a month, maybe? And I’ll take pictures!”

“Be careful not to come too often,” Alhaitham warned. “Or you’ll spoil him.”

“I’ll bring you rare books.”

Alhaitham’s eyes gleamed. “Perhaps a monthly visit can be arranged after all.”

Kaveh whacked his arm. “Haitham! Don’t tell me you were about to let her go running off without telling us anything?!”

“Those words just came out of your mouth, dearest, not mine.” Alhaitham looked at Sharzad. “Send some letters between visits, at least. I don’t think your father could stand it if the only news he received was through newspapers or international court orders.”

Sharzad bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as Kaveh whacked Alhaitham a second time, much harder than the first time. “Alhaitham Taftazani! Do not give her ideas!”

“I can’t promise I won’t end up in newspapers, Dad,” Sharzad said sheepishly. “But I can promise I’ll send letters.”

Kaveh sighed, putting his hand on his forehead. “Just . . . please make sure we hear about your adventures before they make it to the papers. I don’t care how horrifying it is, I’d rather learn it from you.”

“Deal.”

They stood in silence for a few moments. Sharzad took one, long moment to process that this was it, that she was about to step into the rest of Teyvat for some lovely (and more traumatic) shenanigans. That for the first time in six years, she wasn’t going to see Kaveh and Alhaitham at the end of nearly every day.

Her eyes began to sting with unshed tears. Leaping forward, she embraced both her fathers at once. “I’ll miss you!”

“It seems like it’s far, but we’ll only be a short teleportation away,” Alhaitham told her. “If you need anything–”

“I get it, Papa.” She sniffled. “Jeez, when did you start to offer everyone unconditional help?”

“I never have. I offer you aid because you’re my daughter.” Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him drop a leaf on the ground—two seconds earlier, it had been in her hair. “And because you still can’t cook your way through ghormeh sabzi without burning it.”

Sharzad scoffed immediately. “That’s a bold-faced lie.”

“You sound like your father.” Despite his unimpressed expression, Alhaitham’s tone hinted at pride and affection.

“Hurry up, mortal! We’re losing daylight!”

At the sound of the desert king’s voice, Sharzad sighed. “Deshret’s getting impatient. And he’s right: if I want to make it to Liyue Harbor by nightfall, I should leave now. I’ll try to come back in . . . eh, three weeks or so? A month?”

“Sounds reasonable,” Kaveh said with a nod. “If anything happens before–”

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not that much of a feeble scholar.”

“You only get to say that when you’re as buff as your father.”

Fucking impossible since Alhaitham was quite possibly one of the buffest people in Teyvat and also Sharzad was a foot shorter than him and sixteen.

“Do I get a pass if I start wielding a claymore? Nabu did, back in the day.”

Kaveh kissed the top of her head. “Absolutely not. Now go: Deshret is absolutely right that you’re losing time.”

Sharzad spared a look at Alhaitham, who nodded at her with a small smile on his face. “We’ll see you in a month.”

“Hah. Okay.” She turned to the tunnel leading out of Sumeru. “See you!”

And with a last glimpse of her fathers, she began her journey towards Mondstadt.

~~~

The walk through the Chasm was fine, if a little long and full of monsters to narrowly avoid. The route outside of the Chasm was fine, except for a single unavoidable battle with Treasure Hoarders who attempted to rob her and quickly learned to regret it.

Honestly, everything was so fine that she managed to reach Liyue Harbour just as the sun dipped below the horizon. With her ghosts as company and the sound of the Liyue OST filling her surroundings, Sharzad wandered the inner city, admiring how much bigger it was compared to the game version, and how much more lived in it felt.

There were people everywhere here, of all sorts of class from the richest merchants to the beggars at the edge of alleyways (Sharzad gave the latter small pouches of Mora because, seriously, she had way too much and these people actually needed it). Colourful clothing, mostly Liyuan, greeted her eyes in a sea of fabric types and patterns, each so wonderfully different that she stopped to buy herself a nice, thick, fur-lined cloak to go over her shorter, thinner Sumerian attire. The temperature change past the Chasm Mountains meant it was cooler here, and Sharzad had pulled a linen shawl over her mostly bare shoulders to keep her body at a more agreeable temperature.

She found an inn for the night not too far off from the inner city, and holed up in her room to hide herself. This was because she had caught a glimpse of a mask-wearing individual watching the crowd from one of the bridges criss-crossing the streets from above. Right, she’d forgotten about the Fatui . . . existing.

Oops.

Skill Godsense, activated. Divine presence detected.

“Fuck no,” was her immediately response.

A glance out of her window revealed a tall, dark-haired man wearing an elegant suit who looked rather startled by something (her presence, obviously). She ducked away before Zhongli could look in her direction, but given the fact that her mere presence in this city would be drawing him towards her, she had to get out as soon as possible before the inevitable meeting occurred.

So after a short panic attack and a night of restless sleep, she left the inn in a hurry, eating a breakfast of charcoal-baked ajilenakh cakes as she marched right past the Millelith stationed at the city’s entrance and into the wilds of Liyue.

The trip to Wangshu Inn from Liyue Harbor was the opposite of uneventful, really. Despite the clear well-travelled nature of the road towards Mondstadt, or rather because of it, Treasure Hoarders and hilichurls roamed not too far off from the dirt road, the former searching to rob people and the latter . . . well that she didn’t understand.

She had scarcely begun passing through the mountain pass between Liyue Harbor and the rest of the blank portion of her map when several masked individuals burst out from behind the fallen boulders lining the cliffside. The sound of blades being drawn from sheaths and other weapons being pulled out filled the cool morning air as a new soundtrack, that of Liyue’s battles, began to play in Sharzad’s ears.

“Don’t scream, and all will be fine,” one of the people said.

“Treasure Hoarders,” Deshret hissed. “Five of them, two behind you.”

Thank Kusanali Deshret was smart enough to know when being helpful was important.

The text above the Treasure Hoarders read Level 39, the highest they could be at the moment. Sharzad swallowed—this wasn’t going to be fun.

She stared at the badges on their chests, which bore the insignia of a raven. “Oh. Treasure Hoarders.”

“Yes. Give us all your Mora or we will take it by force!” the same person who spoke before—a shorter, dark-haired guy compared to the rest of the Hoarders surrounding him. Sharzad guessed he was the leader, but it was deeply hilarious to see that he wielded small knives compared to the buff, thickset guy next to him who held a shovel.

Sharzad narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re welcome to try, but I think you’ll find I disagree with the idea.” Holding her fingers out, she summoned Light of Foliar Incision, feeling its smooth handle materialise in her hand within seconds. “Are you sure you want to try me?”

Clearly, the answer was yes, because in a single movement, the lead Treasure Hoarder had thrown a knife in her direction. The blade flashed in the early sunlight, and though Sharzad attempted to dodge it, the blade still slashed a hole in her sleeve, scratching her arm in the process.

“Shit.” Sharzad adjusted her grip on her sword, holding her other hand ahead of her in a fighting stance. “Your loss. Reflection of the Scribe.”

A Chisel-Light Mirror sprang into existence just as Sharzad darted towards, not the leader, but the shovel guy next to him. Her blade met the shovel’s wooden shaft with enough force to gouge a large chunk out of the shovel. A large diamond made of Dendro energy burst forth from the impact, sending the Treasure Hoarder reeling.

“ Behind you! ”

Sharzad turned, slashing her blade in a large arc which, thanks to the Chisel-Light Mirror, generated a trail of glowing Dendro energy. She didn’t wait for this Treasure Hoarder—a rather buff guy armed with nothing but his fists—to react to her movement, snapping her fingers at the ground to summon a large rosebush directly beneath the guy’s feet. Its thorns clearly drew blood, as Sharzad watched the guy’s health drop a full third from the combined efforts of her sword and of the plant.

“Duck!”

An arrow whizzed past her head, and a quick look up showed that one of the Treasure Hoarders was standing on top of one of the fallen boulders, shooting at her with a crossbow.

“Deal with that later,” she mumbled, narrowly avoiding a punch from the second technically-unarmed Treasure Hoarder and taking the opportunity to slice a long gash into the guy’s exposed bicep. Blood spurted from the wound almost immediately, accompanied by a final slash of green energy before her Chisel-Light Mirror vanished.

The shovel guy she’d knocked down clearly thought this would be the perfect opportunity to shower her in dirt and blind her, as he advanced, now with a large shovelful of dirt comically held in front of him.

Sharzad snorted a laugh. “Oh my archons, that’s so stupid.”

A wave of a hand and some concentrated thoughts sent a whole tree exploding from the dirt, roots quickly growing downwards and anchoring itself and the shovel into the ground. The Treasure Hoarder dropped to the ground from the sudden weight, a loud crack and a scream of pain echoing through the air as he fell. Oh. She’d broken the poor guy’s arms with a tree.

“Oops.”

That was definitely not the right reaction to have at the moment, but it somehow did the trick in terms of intimidating the rest of the Treasure Hoarders, who all sprinted down the mountain pass and disappeared as quickly as they arrived, two of them supporting the shovel guy so he could escape with them.

“Good riddance.” Deshret sniffed disdainfully. “Uncivilised brigands!”

“Hah, yeah.” Sharzad lifted her cloak to inspect the slash in her sleeve. It was bleeding enough that she had to be concerned about it, so she quickly withdrew a pita pocket from her inventory and took a bite (charcoal-baked ajilenakh cakes were not recovery dishes so they wouldn’t work). Thanks to the System, this was enough for her wound to knit itself back together, leaving only her cut sleeve and the blood staining the loose pink fabric as a sign that there had been a wound at all. “Here’s hoping we don’t run into them again until lunch.”

~~~

She did, in fact, run into more Treasure Hoarders before lunch. But, thankfully, the Tree Strategy™ worked wonders on any of the Hoarders that had shovels, and everyone else was deterred if she hit them hard enough with a Chisel-Light Mirror.

“Dishonourable cowards!” Nabu Malikata spat as yet another group ran off. “Morax would be disappointed to see his people so shamefully robbing travellers and merchants!”

“Well, Morax isn’t here,” Sharzad mumbled. “He’s in Liyue Harbor.”

“You should have gone to say hi. I recall him being particularly friendly with Amun.”

“ We sparred on occasion, Nabu. I would hardly call that friendly. ”

Sharzad turned her head to stare at the desert’s king. “You fought Morax?”

“On occasion,” Deshret repeated. “During and before the Archon War period, as Akademiya scholars call it now.”

This was the first time Deshret had spoken about his role in the Celestia-driven conflict. Usually, his comments boiled down to stupid conflict, stupid war, chaos reigned and knowledge was tragically lost. “Didn’t you fight in the Archon War?”

“Since I rejected the position of Sumeru’s Archon–”

Flowers burst out of the soil around Sharzad’s feet. “You what?!” Maybe she was just woozy and exhausted from summoning several full-grown trees, but this was information that she hadn’t encountered before. She forced the energy away from herself, restoring her voice to its normal tone. “You’re telling me you had enough power to be offered the position of archon?! And you said no?!”

“I had no need for Apep’s authority, especially since she was still alive unlike many of the other Sovereigns. We even agreed on certain matters concerning the Heavenly Principles.” Deshret sighed. “It’s a shame that the contract we signed about our eventual deaths resulted in her contamination by Forbidden Knowledge. Neither of us planned for that.”

“Should I have gone and visited her?” Sharzad wrung her hands together.

“Yes. But you rarely ventured to the desert these past few years. I found it unwise to force you to travel to Apep’s lair. Especially if a battle awaited you there: it’s likely she believes I deliberately poisoned her with Forbidden Knowledge.”

Sharzad blinked. “That’s . . . surprisingly nice of you.”

“I can acknowledge that your humanity has its limits. Though you have not strayed close to them yet, it is still clear that your ordeal in my pyramid still affects you greatly.” The king smiled wryly. “I was not going to let my only potential heir die because of unpreparedness. When you do die, I expect it to be glorious.”

“. . . thanks.”

Nabu Malikata beamed at them both. “You’re making progress! I’m so proud of you!”

Sharzad considered saying something negative but decided against it, as they still had at least an hour of walking to go, and she intended on stopping for lunch soon.

Eventually, they made it to Wangshu Inn, which, much like the rest of Teyvat’s locations, was bigger than the game made it look. You know, with actual rooms for customers built into the tree trunk and the main house at the top of the tree. Sharzad’s room was inside the trunk, with a small glass window allowing her to see the world outside.

Exhausted after her restless night and the constant fighting of Treasure Hoarders, Sharzad settled in for a nice afternoon nap. Nabu Malikata gently roused her around four with a reminder that sleeping any later would further disrupt her sleep schedule. So Sharzad spent the next three hours reading a book.

When the hunger gnawing at her belly became too strong, she left for the inn’s restaurant, where she ordered matsusake meat rolls and almond tofu after careful consideration of the available options. She took both with her, finding after quick investigation that the highest balcony of the inn was accessible and currently empty. A perfect place to see the Liyue scenery from afar.

Sitting on the wooden floor, she ate her meal, watching the brighter stars twinkle their way through the light cloud cover. Combined with the mist rolling it, the clouds managed to obscure much of the landscape in front of her. It was a shame—she’d really wanted to see Liyue from a similar vantage point to the gardens atop the Divine Tree. Too bad.

Once she finished eating, Sharzad stood, stretching her limbs towards the tree branches above her. The blue-tiled roof caught her eye, especially with how low it was. She could easily climb up and perhaps even get a better viewpoint of the whole area.

So, being the person she was, Sharzad hid her plates in her inventory and then immediately attempted to climb the tiled roof. Well, attempted wasn’t the right word, since, much like many other things, physics didn’t apply to climbing things in Teyvat, and so Sharzad easily managed to climb the roof until she could balance precariously on top of it.

From above the golden leaves of the tree, she was handed a gorgeous view of the mountain peaks that eliminated everything else around her, like she stood on an island in a sea of clouds. The earth was long gone here, replaced with the mountain peaks in the far distance. Sharzad momentarily allowed herself to close her eyes, to listen to the wind, to feel like she had no responsibilities to this world, no ghosts tied to her soul, no future battles looming dangerously ahead.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The raspy, distinctly male voice broke her meditative silence. Without opening her eyes, Sharzad sighed. “Can the scolding wait until after I enjoy the feeling of being unbothered?”

“You are . . . dangerously close to the edge of the roof.”

“I know what I’m doing.” Sharzad opened her eyes carefully, realising immediately that, yes, she was rather close to the edge.

Taking two steps back, she found herself tripping into the very solid form of the person currently sharing the rooftop. With a yelp, she plunged to the side, sending her hands out to catch herself with a hammock of vines. Instead of landing in the vines, she found herself pulled back up by a strong, gloved hand. Scars extended up the arm, partly concealed by a teal tattoo.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she snapped at the individual, raising her head to look at them for the first time.

Oh, shit, it’s him.

If the dark, teal-accented hair wasn’t enough of a sign, the yellow, bird-like gaze was enough to tell her who it was. Xiao looked distinctly unimpressed with her. “You were going to fall.”

“I would have broken my fall, in case you didn’t notice . ” Sharzad gestured at the hammock of vines helpfully lying a metre away from her. “And I wouldn’t have even fallen if you didn’t follow me up here!”

The flaps of pink and purple fabric tied to his belt rustled slightly as he stepped back. “I was concerned. No one usually comes here.”

No one? Her power flared outward, sending flowers of all colours blooming across the rooftop. “Hate to break it to you, emo boy, but I’m not no one. ”

Xiao watched the flowers bloom with furrowed brows. He stood there in silence for a few long moments, before returning his gaze to Sharzad. “I was unaware you possessed divine power.”

“Unaware? She reeks of it!” Deshret grumbled.

Too quickly to be a mistake, Xiao’s head turned towards Deshret’s exact position. “Hmm.”

“Ah, you can see him,” Sharzad commented.

“It’s . . . hard to miss the ember of a god.”

Deshret imperiously inspected Xiao’s clothing. “Adeptus. I have not seen one of your kind in millennia.”

Sharzad made a show of staring at Deshret. “Do you know him?”

Xiao answered for Deshret. “I have rarely travelled out of Liyue, and I have never met a god that looks like this one. I would recognize his aura if I had.” He narrowed his eyes at Sharzad. “I would recognize the intricacies of your aura if I had.”

Deeply offended by the fact that he was basically psychoanalysing her, Sharzad crossed her arms. “Can I get your name before you analyse everything about my aura?”

He waited for a long, long moment before taking a breath. “Xiao,” he said. “My name is Xiao.”

“I’m Sharzad.” Gesturing sideways, she added, “This is Deshret–” the king in question clearly his throat, making her roll her eyes. “–King Deshret of a hundred different titles I couldn’t care less about. And Nabu Malikata is . . . not here right now.”

Xiao brought a hand to his chin. “You have . . . two gods tied to your soul?”

“Yes.” Sharzad made her tone as final as she could. As much as she knew Xiao the character, she most certainly did not know Xiao the person, and she didn’t trust him right now. Certainly not enough to spill her entire backstory like she had with Collei almost a year before. And since her Godsense wasn’t going off, she figured that she wasn’t able to make a deal with him, so she didn’t have that as an excuse to share her story.

Besides, Xiao reported to Zhongli, and if she misspoke, Zhongli might figure out that Sharzad was the presence he sensed the day before. Or, alternatively, he could very well decide she was too dangerous to be left alive and then attempt to kill her. ‘Attempt’ being the important word because Sharzad would definitely fight back, but she was pretty confident she wouldn’t survive the whole I will have order meteorite business, not without solid practice and maybe an extra god or two’s power.

But one day, she would have to confront Zhongli, because divine elemental power was one surefire way of breezing through the challenges ahead, and Sharzad wanted to make sure she survived to see the end of the game’s plot, whatever it took.

Chapter Text

QUEST

The Call of the Wind

Travel to the City of Mondstadt

Her arrival in Mondstadt was marked by absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. It was ridiculously easy to enter the City of Freedom, although finding herself a room in an inn was made considerably more difficult because the Goth Grand Hotel was currently taken over by Fatui.

Fuck the Fatui.

In search of a place to stay, she set off for the inner city, finding herself immediately overwhelmed by strange sights, smells, and sounds. The buildings here were similar to the in-game Mondstadt, but spread out in a way that was less familiar, like the city itself had been extended to the front, while the back of it was the exact representation of the in-game city. Since it was built on that large central island, much of the city was on a slope upwards, and the way the buildings on Main Street were laid out gave her a perfect view of the city’s most famous landmark—the massive statue of Venti— ahem , Barbatos, with the gothic spires of the cathedral extending into the sky behind it.

Sharzad decided to avoid this entirely, instead advancing into the city until she arrived at the plaza of what was apparently the ‘Market District.’ The more familiar area was preceded by shops Sharzad recognized from the game, like Good Hunter and the Cat’s Tail, and its central area included the wishing fountain, and, slightly further ahead, the Teleport Waypoint she had been looking for.

Grinning, she climbed to the waypoint and activated it, before returning to the plaza for a quick bite to eat at Good Hunter. Sara, the owner, was friendly and open despite Sharzad’s outlander status, and she helpfully pointed her to a nearby inn that actually had room for her, because according to Sara, “Those damned Fatui have been buying out the entire Goth Grand Hotel for months now. You’re better off renting a room at some other inn or an apartment than bothering with Goth’s place.”

Thanks to the information, Sharzad went to a nearby inn called the Falcon’s Nest, whose owner gladly gave her access to a larger room in the attic once she indicated that she’d be staying for a while and that she had the Mora to pay for it.

Her room was surprisingly big for an inn room, likely comparable to her old bedroom in Sumeru City. A bed covered in yellow blankets was tucked against the wall near the window, while a small wooden wardrobe took up most of the space on the opposing wall, near the door. A desk and chair, both reasonable accommodations though they looked less comfortable than Sharzad was used to, took up the rest of the space next to the bed, and on the opposing wall, a small shelf perfect for storing things took up the space not taken up by the door to the modest bathroom.

Thoroughly satisfied with her accommodations for the foreseeable future (though Deshret disagreed as he always did), Sharzad went to bed.

She woke up groggy the next morning, with the sense that she’d dreamed of something but not the memories of what it was. The Akasha’s hold on her had clearly loosened quite a bit with the distance from Sumeru, a fact that Sharzad would have welcomed had she not been struck by the fact that her fathers were so far away.

I miss them.

To distract herself, she decided to visit the city a little, reasoning that it would be a good distraction and that she should at least get to see Mondstadt before she risked her life in her first domain.

Wandering the city took her towards its version of Katherine, who assigned her commissions the moment Sharzad presented her Adventurer’s Handbook as proof of her membership in the guild. Sharzad found these ridiculously easy compared to Sumeru’s, especially considering how one of them literally entailed giving a guy called Guy a fragmented hilichurl mask.

After doing a short commission at the Church of Favonius (one of the nuns uselessly attempted to get her to come to a service the next week), Sharzad found herself wandering the plaza in front of the cathedral. The songs of three or four bards standing in various parts of the plaza were matched only by the conversations and prayers of the Mondstatians who came to the Anemo Archon’s statue to seek the blessings of Barbatos.

“ Barbatos, ” Nabu Malikata said as she gazed at the statue. “ I believe we only met once or twice. He ascended at the tail end of the Archon War, and both of us died soon after it ended. ”

Deshret scoffed. “ If the images in Sharzad’s head are to be believed, that little godling is a useless drunk these days. Pah! No wonder his nation is overrun with hilichurls! ”

Sharzad rolled her eyes with a sigh. For a moment, she entertained the idea of climbing the statue to sit in its cupped hands (she would probably get an achievement from doing so), but decided against it because it was probably blasphemy, and she was already being blasphemous to the Mondstadtians by not going to the service the coming weekend.

Leaving the plaza, she headed for the streets below, where she soon discovered a shop selling equipment she hadn’t yet considered acquiring: wind gliders, a technology not available in Sumeru for a variety of reasons.

Entranced by the colourful fabrics, Sharzad entered the store, marvelling at the various shape, colour, and motif options one could get for a wind glider.

“ Someone’s behind you, ” Nabu Malikata warned her as she perused the shelves.

“What do they look like?” she muttered, concealing the sound of her voice with the rustling of wind gliders.

“ It’s a man with blue hair. He’s wearing an eye patch, and the eye I can see is distinctly Khaenri’ahn. ”

It was a familiar description, at least. Sharzad didn’t need a long time to figure out who it was. Kaeya. Wonderful. She decided to pretend she didn’t know he was there, curious to see whether he’d approach her or not.

He did, in fact, approach her. “Shopping for your first wind glider?”

Sharzad nodded absent-mindedly, running her fingers over a particularly pretty orange one. While it wasn’t her colour, she could still appreciate the beauty of its colouring, of its shape, of the little design quirks that made this particular wind glider unique.

“You know, most people in Mondstadt have steered clear of the wind gliders ever since Stormterror began attacking the regions outside the city.”

This was the first she’d heard of Dvalin’s attacks, a surprise given the fact that he supposedly regularly attacked Mondstadt by the time the Traveler showed up. Eh, maybe the locals just didn’t want to scare off a potential customer given the kind of . . . vague emptiness of the city these days.

Sharzad hummed. “Then use the wind gliders where he isn’t . It’s not that hard.”

“How bold of you to venture into the wilds alone, outlander.”

His half-joking tone sent Sharzad’s power flaring outwards, but with a breath, she calmed it before she did anything she regretted. Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at Kaeya, doing her best to look unimpressed. This was made considerably easier by how he looked like he was trying too hard to look cool, dark blue hair glossy from whatever products he used, eyebrows and facial hair manicured to some semblance of perfection, smile so fake and practised but in a way that not everyone would know it unless they knew to look for it.

Sharzad had experience dealing with fake people before and after gaining her power. She knew what excess preparation looked like.

“What do you want? Last I checked, you have to actually meet someone before interrogating them at random.” She huffed. “Unless you’re some sort of police officer, in which case you’d still have to know who I am.”

“And who exactly are you, miss?” Kaeya leaned back, posture relaxed the entire time. “Are you bringing a new storm to Mondstadt?”

With a light scoff, Sharzad crossed her arms. “I’m Sharzad, a researcher from Sumeru.”

Kaeya tilted his head slightly , like he was trying to inspect her differently. “A scholar? I must admit, you look rather young to be–”

Sharzad cut across him, doing her best to remain calm despite the urge to blast him backwards into a wall and drown him in sand (which she hadn’t ever manipulated without Deshret possessing her, so she doubted she could manage that particular feat at the moment). “I have published two theses as well as several papers on the extensive history of Sumeru’s desert, and have several notable discoveries to my name.” Smiling politely, she added, “Could I perhaps have your name, sir? Or will I have to resort to calling you ‘Eyepatch’ until we run into someone you know.”

The knight’s grin looked much more genuine this time. Kaeya bowed slightly, making a fist over his heart like the other Knights of Favonius did when they greeted people. “Kaeya, Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius.”

“Do you have a surname, Sir Kaeya?” Sharzad asked, knowing full well what it was (she just wanted to fuck with him). “It is my understanding that native Mondstadtians, like Fontainians and Inazumans, place emphasis on their history and their surnames. We do not in Sumeru, although I could always introduce myself by my full name, if the occasion calls for such formalities.”

There was the tiniest flash of something like interest and fear in Kaeya’s eye, notable by the slight widening of it. “Perhaps the Akademiya is wrong, then.”

“Oh, I didn’t learn that in the Akademiya. My grandmother moved to Fontaine, you see, and it was quite the culture shock to see everyone introduce themselves with their surnames, until my aunt explained it to me. Not to mention I’m friends with an Inazuman and she explained the same principle.” Sharzad shrugged. “Given Mondstadt’s own past and present relations with aristocracy and wealthy merchant families, I thought it only logical for there to be a similar emphasis on familial ties.” Holding out her hand, she took a breath. “If my assumption was wrong, I am sorry.”

Kaeya looked rather taken aback that she apologised in the first place, something that sent a flash of satisfaction through Sharzad. She’d surprised him. That was good.

After a moment’s silence, Sharzad turned back to the wind gliders. “Is there anything else you need from me, Kaeya?”

“Hmm. Perhaps not, but perhaps yes.”

Sharzad huffed, taking a glider off the rack and inspecting its pattern of geometric shapes on a light background before putting it back. “If you’re just going to tail me, just say you are.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

“How about you tell me who exactly wants to know who I am and what I’m doing here?” Exasperated, she finally selected a basic dark grey glider from the starter rack and brought it to the counter. “This is all.”

The shopkeeper looked past her shoulder, no doubt at Kaeya. After a moment she nodded slowly and asked Sharzad for the Mora she owed.

Easy enough. Sharzad tucked the glider in her bag and left the shop without looking at Kaeya.

He kept pace with her, anyway.

Sharzad rolled her eyes. “I guess you’ll be tailing me for the rest of the day, Kaeya? Got nothing better to do?”

“Hmm, at least this is more interesting than the usual Favonius stuff.”

“What? No use for the cavalry?”

Kaeya began throwing a piece of Mora in the air and catching it. Little flashes of reflected sunlight caught Sharzad’s eye every time the coin spun in the air. “Most of the horses are gone on an expedition.”

“They didn’t take you with them? Shame.” Running her fingers over the railway of a staircase, Sharzad channelled a fraction of her power into creating a garland of flowers and vines to decorate it. “Hmm, much nicer.”

They continued walking, Sharzad slightly ahead so Kaeya could follow her wherever she went. She turned back towards the upper city, where she knew the Knights of Favonius headquarters were.

“Trying to report me to my superiors, are we?” Kaeya asked the moment her destination became clear.

Sharzad hummed. “You’ll see.”

Trusting in Kaeya’s authority to get by, she walked past the two knights standing guard by the entrance and, after a curious nudge against the door to check whether it was unlocked, entered the stone fortress.

Its insides were a lot nicer than the outside, with tiled flooring and wooden balcony surrounding the large entrance hall. Sharzad paused to consider the doors on either side of the building, before turning towards the right.

Kaeya watched her open the door to the library and followed her inside. “Lucky guess.”

“If you say so.”

It was not a lucky guess. Sharzad had visited this place too many times to count, between the first time she played the Mondstadt Archon Quests to the days she wanted to take the scenic route to the Imaginarium Theatre. But Kaeya didn’t know that. No one in Teyvat knew that Sharzad had once known Teyvat through a video game (unless you counted Nabu Malikata and Deshret, but they were dead and bound to her soul so it was an automatic kind of thing).

The library was, of course, different in real life compared to seeing it in game. It was larger than its videogame counterpart, and here, the smell of old parchment and melting candle wax filled the air even with ample amounts of sunlight streaming through the windows.

 However, having been used to the House of Daena, Sharzad found that the library of the Knights of Favonius was considerably smaller than the Akademiya’s collections. Still, it was larger than her fathers’ personal collection at home, so she found solace in the fact that she could probably disappear within the shelves without worrying about being easily found.

“Well, well, well, Sir Kaeya, who’s this cutie you’ve brought with you?”

Sharzad bit her tongue as Lisa seemingly melted out from one of the bookshelves, a surprising feat considering, among other things, the size of the former Spantamad scholar’s pointed hat. She’d clearly committed to the witch aesthetic and to the motif of Sumeru roses, which adorned everything from her dress to the band of her hat.

Not bothering to wait for Kaeya’s introduction, Sharzad spoke up. “I’m Sharzad.”

“An Akademiya researcher, no doubt. Come to seek advice from the great Lisa Minci?” her voice wasn’t tinged with amusement, but rather with a light bitterness.

Cyno had told Sharzad that Lisa went into a self-imposed exile because of a dislike for the Akademiya and the expectations tied to her name. Figuring this was why Lisa sounded bitter, Sharzad shook her head. “I’m a Dastur already, and besides, I’m from Vahumana. A Spantamad graduate wouldn’t be much help.”

Lisa’s gaze immediately turned from bitterness to interest. “Oh? Are you perhaps the Sharzad that Cyno was so concerned about four years ago?” She laughed. “The letter your fathers sent was quite distressed.” Leaning forward slightly, she peered at Sharzad with wide green eyes. “Did they ever figure out what was going on?”

Sharzad knew Lisa was smart enough to figure out the truth based on context alone, so she didn’t waste time hiding the truth. “Yes.” Pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts, Sharzad added, “It helped that I was aware of my situation before they were.”

Humming softly, Lisa crossed her arms. “How rare. Although, since you’re a Dastur at your age, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Care to enlighten the one who knows nothing?” Kaeya asked, stepping forward so they formed a little triangle where he could see both Lisa and Sharzad at the same time.

Sharzad was, of course, not going to tell him about her reincarnation. Or, you know anything else. Flicking a finger at Kaeya, she willed a calla lily into existence so that it poked out of the Cavalry Captain’s blue hair. “No. Get your answers somewhere else.”

The sound of Deshret and Nabu Malikata’s amused laughter filled the air, accompanied by Lisa’s softer chuckles.

Kaeya’s only reaction was a stare, not at her eyes, but at her hand, which had glowed pink for less than a second. “What did you do?”

“Check your hair, dumbass.”

The knight immediately reached for the aforementioned locks, quickly finding the flower in his hair and pulling it out. “I’m impressed,” he said easily. “Although I must ask—where do you hide your Vision?”

“Don’t have one,” Sharzad replied with a shrug.

“I’m sure the Spantamad scholars had a field day studying you,” Lisa commented.

“They tried. So did Amurta. Unfortunately for them, I’m not fond of being studied .”

“You and me both, cutie.” The Librarian of Favonius gestured for Sharzad to follow her down the library steps. “Why don’t you come and spend the rest of your day with me? I’m sure the texts in the library’s Restricted Section will be more informative than anything available at the House of Daena.”

Leaving Kaeya behind, the two scholars made their way into the library’s hidden Restricted Section, where Sharzad spent the rest of the day inspecting various texts on reincarnation and gods (and dragons) that the Akademiya had banned centuries before.

~~~

One might have thought that Sharzad would be done meeting playable characters after her first, jam-packed day in Mondstadt, but it became clear by the end of the week that her situation wasn’t about to change.

On her third day in Mondstadt, she found herself wandering the area between Springvale and Dawn Winery in search of chests, but in the process stumbled upon a half-built hilichurl camp near an important road. It would no doubt be best to deal with them before some hapless merchant ended up killed.

She counted seven hilichurls from afar, including a mitachurl and a Hydro samachurl, so it wouldn’t be a particularly difficult battle, but Sharzad still wasn’t particularly . . . okay with the idea of killing them. She knew they had once been human, after all, and she had too many memories of the Caribert story quests to easily forget their origins.

“ They lost their humanity long ago, ” Nabu Malikata reassured her as she attempted to strategize a way to avoid killing them. “ They live half-lives fueled by the Abyss. You may as well put them out of their misery. ”

“Former. Humans. They might still have a consciousness.”

“ The same could be said about all sorts of monsters you have fought. Why are hilichurls so different? ”

Caribert.

Sharzad did not say this aloud and instead raised an eyebrow. “You can see my memories, Nabu. You know why.” She narrowed her eyes at the camp. “Hmm.”

“ Just take them out, ” Deshret said impatiently. “ End them and move on. You have more important things to do. ”

“Rude.” She took out her sword, mentally counting how many towers, huts, and other structures the hilichurls had made. “Here—I’ll knock them all out and destroy their buildings. Maybe that’ll do it.”

Deshret sighed, his hands on his temples. “ I am the eldest god of knowledge, yet I do not think I will ever understand you. ”

Sharzad ignored him in favour of walking out from her hiding place, until she was close enough to the hilichurls for them to notice her. The sound of them noticing her (aka, HYAH ) was lost to the wind as Sharzad ducked to avoid the flaming arrow flying towards her.

Not repeating what happened when I turned eleven, bitch. She still had the scar because the wound had healed naturally. It was one of the few scars she still had, because the Statues of the Seven and eating food from her Inventory completely removed all blemishes on her skin. It was probably another reason why people tended to underestimate her, besides her age.

“ Incoming! ”

Eyes widening at the charging mitachurl, she threw herself to the side, narrowly avoiding the large beast’s glowing axe. It stopped charging soon after, turning back around to do it all again. Behind her, footsteps in the grass betrayed a club-wielding hilichurl preparing to attack her.

She put up a barrier of thorns to slow it down. “ Shit! ”

“Just kill it!” Deshret commanded from where he stood next to her. “Kill them all! It is a matter of survival!”

“They’re–”

“ They are not human any longer. ” He held his hand out to her. “ I will possess you if it makes you feel less guilty. ” His eyes widened at the sight of something behind her. “ Run– ”

Too late. Something (definitely the mitachurl) collided with her back and sent her flying forward. Within seconds, she crashed into a wooden hut. Snapping filled the air, though she wasn’t sure whether it was her bones cracking or the wood splintering or both. Everything hurt, and for a long, panicked moment she struggled to catch her breath, which had been knocked out of her upon impact.

“ Ugh. ” Though she was dazed, Sharzad somehow managed to stay lucid enough to open her Inventory and select a healing dish (she couldn’t tell what because the text began to blur, but at least she recognized the little healing symbol in the corner of the image). Immediately, her vision sharpened and her pain faded, accompanied by the distinct feeling of food settling in her stomach.

“ Get up, Sharzad, ” Nabu Malikata told her. “ Get up and fight. ”

Sharzad stumbled to her feet, climbing out of the hollow of bloodstained, splintered wood with the grace of a little fawn walking for the first time. The hilichurls seemed to be confused about her, standing not too far off but not yet attacking, as if they’d expected her to die from the impact.

Dying would finish what Gulnaz started–NO.

Calm yourself. Breathe.

Breathe.

She stood at an impasse, the hilichurls clearly waiting to see what her next move would be. Was it a sign of survival instincts? Curiosity? Something else?

Cats have curiosity. All sorts of animals do. But you’re going to die if you don’t do anything. Stay. Calm. Fight.

Her sword appeared in her hand, and immediately, the hilichurls charged.

“ Mortal, ” Deshret warned.

Sharzad waited until the hilichurls were close before waving her sword in an arc. Instantly, several crowns of thorns—a tall, thorny plant with flowers growing near the top of the stem—burst from the area she delineated with the tip of her blade. The charging hilichurls ran straight into them. Blood spattered on the ground from dozens of cuts, a red so dark it was almost black against the vibrant grass of Windwail Highland.

Disintegrating the plants with a finger snap, Sharzad leapt towards the Hydro samachurl first, knocking it several steps back with a slash of her blade. She continued to attack until the creature fell to the ground and disintegrated, before turning immediately to the next of the hilichurls.

Their masked faces blended together over the course of several minutes. The smell of burning flesh and plants reached her nostrils, paired with the taste of blood leaking from a gash in her cheek and the sight of hilichurls stumbling, falling back, disintegrating into flakes of glowing light and loot she could pick up once they were all gone.

It was only when she expectantly turned towards another hilichurl that she realised that she wasn’t the only human on this battlefield any longer.

Diluc?

The flash of red hair and the matching claymore was a clear enough indicator of her fellow combatant’s identity. She watched him take down the last of the hilichurls with two quick, flaming blows, noticing in the process that the mitachurl’s body lay not too far off, still burning from Diluc’s attacks. Monsters, when killed by others, did not disintegrate as they did for Sharzad.

He turned towards her, adjusting his dark brown coat sleeves with a quick motion. A moment’s pause saw his eyebrow twitch upwards, but for the most part, his expression remained the same stoic mask. Itt was like seeing an Alhaitham who never learned how to express his emotions. Horrifying.

“Someone your age shouldn’t be this far from the city. It’s dangerous.”

Ugh, again with the age thing. Sharzad crossed her arms. “I could have handled it on my own. Who are you to judge?”

“I could ask you the same question, outlander. Where are your parents? Doing business in the city?”

“My parents are at home, in Sumeru. Where they belong because they’re a scribe and an architect.”

Diluc’s eyes narrowed. “Then why aren’t you there? It’s a long way from home.”

“I’m here on personal matters. It doesn’t concern you, mister, especially since you haven’t given me your name yet.”

“I’m not one for small talk.”

“Names are a basic and commonplace exchange of courtesy.” She indicated herself with a wave of her hand. “For example, my name is Sharzad. Now, it’s your turn.”

“ You could be more imperial, ” Deshret commented.

Sharzad ignored this, instead fixing Diluc with an expectant stare.

He held her gaze for a long, long moment, before sighing once. “Diluc.” He turned to walk away without looking over his shoulder. “See to it that you don’t end up in trouble while you’re here. The Knights have enough on their useless hands as it is.”

Chapter Text

QUEST

The Outlanders Who Caught the Wind

Stay in Mondstadt and locate the Traveler

Somehow, the next two weeks in Mondstadt went by quickly, and even more surprisingly, Sharzad didn’t see Stormterror/Dvalin once , besides a few distant glances of the dragon soaring over the wilderness. For some reason, she’d expected more sightings of the dragon.

Although maybe this explained why the tales of dragon problems in Mondstadt were few and far between when compared to more large-scale dramas like Inazuma shutting down its borders.

Sharzad kept herself busy with treasure hunting and exploring Mondstadt in search of every single Teleport Waypoint, Statue of the Seven, and Domain she could possibly unlock. Once she’d lit up her entire map save Stormterror’s Lair and the northern and eastern parts of Mondstadt (she didn’t want to stray too far past the original game’s map at the moment), she turned her attention to her wind glider. Given its simple mechanics in game, she found herself confused on how to practise using it in real life, as it wasn’t as easy as simply jumping off a cliff and pressing the spacebar.

So, she struggled for a bit until eventually Amber of all people turned up. She had noticed Sharzad while on patrol and, like any sane person, worried because Sharzad was wandering dangerously close to the edge of a cliff in the hopes of finding the nerve to simply jump off. The Outrider quickly caught on to what Sharzad was attempting to do and proceeded to explain everything that went into wind gliding in great detail. Sharzad, of course, thanked her by accompanying her on the tail end of her patrol, whereupon the two took on several low-level slimes together, and also by buying Amber some dinner.

The general peace and quiet were nice. Until Sharzad received the little notification that told her peace wasn’t going to be an option for much longer.

QUEST

The Outlanders Who Caught the Wind

Stay in Mondstadt and locate the Traveler

It was an early morning, and she had been halfway down to the city gates when the little notification appeared in front of her. The sight made her blood run cold, and, after considering what the heck was about to happen to Mondstadt (a dragon attack), she turned on her heel to sprint back to the Falcon’s Nest.

“ Why are we here? ” Deshret demanded.

“Simple: Dvalin’s about to come charging in here, and I’d like to be present and prepared for the first of his attacks I’m going to witness.” Tossing her cloak on her bed, she turned towards the wardrobe and grabbed a fresh pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt to replace her skirt and thinner attire. “Have you seen that dragon?!”

“ You have seen it, so I have seen it. I am wondering why stripping is necessary. ”

“I am changing into warmer clothes because I can’t use my cloak. It’s basically a cape and if there’s one thing Edna Mode was right about, it’s that capes are dangerous. I’m not going to die for the sake of my fashion choices.” Yanking the shirt over her head, she turned towards her inventory, withdrawing a few extra pieces for good luck. These were pieces of jewellery Kaveh bought for her early on—bird-shaped earrings and a bracelet adorned with a simple piece of crimson agate. “There. I’m ready.”

“ Tie your hair back, ” Nabu Malikata advised. “ It may only reach your shoulders, but it still may fall in your face. ”

Sharzad nodded, tied her hair back, and then left the inn. Immediately upon stepping out into the street, a trail of golden sparks, the first she’d ever seen since being isekai’d, began leading the way to her destination: the top of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. The strangeness of the location (did the Traveler ever actually come to the top of the building?) became evident when, from her new vantage point, Sharzad spotted a golden-haired figure gliding through the air towards the lower market plaza of the city. It seemed he was following Amber through gaps in the buildings.

“Oh.” She narrowed her eyes at the braid streaming from the figure’s head. “It’s Aether. And Paimon, if that little floating figure beside him is what I think it is.”

She stepped up to the edge of the roof, fully ready to jump off and glide down to join them (screw needing a gliding licence, she’d get that when this bullshit was over).

Small problem: the sky began to darken.

Clouds appeared from nothing, blocking out the sunlight. The wind picked up, its howling accompanied by the ever-closer sound of a dragon screeching and the beat of large wings. Though she had turned off the background music function to keep from hearing Mondstadt’s soundtrack on loop, the sound of trembling strings filled the air, as if the System itself couldn’t stop Teyvat from being dramatic.

Oh no. Was that going to be a common occurrence now?

Accompanied by blaring horns, Dvalin appeared from the clouds, roaring into the wind with every mighty flap of his wings. Even if he was attacking Mondstadt, Sharzad begrudgingly internalised the fact that Dvalin was pretty , the purple on his six wings shining like stained glass in the morning sun. He had feathers, too, and clawed talons like a bird, as if he was less mythological dragon and more Teyvat’s answer to the thing about t-rexes and chickens being very closely related.

Skill Godsense , activated. Divine presence detected.

“Yeah, no shit ,” she yelled into the wind as Dvalin turned midair and set his sights on her .

Several large, charcoal-grey tornadoes manifested in the city, ripping tiles off roofs and sending screaming civilians running in every direction. Sharzad quickly considered her two options: death by dragon or attempt at escape.

“Venti, you better do something to help!” she yelled, the closest thing to a prayer she would probably ever manage, right before she launched herself from the tower.

Her wind glider snapped outward, stabilising her for a single, precious moment before she was violently ripped into a tornado and tossed straight into the sky. Seconds later, she was joined by a second individual, the same blond she saw from afar: the Traveler. Aether. Fuck.

And then came the dragon, who continued his clear goal of getting to Sharzad by flying straight at her.

“Nope!” she exclaimed, taking off her wind glider so she plunged into a free fall.

For a few terrifying seconds, she plummeted to the ground, before catching herself again and floating back up. The rushing winds, whether Dvalin’s creation or Venti’s, supported her, lifting her to Aether’s level once again.

“He’s after you?!” Aether yelled over the roaring winds, the disbelief in his voice just as clear as his accent.

Surprised at the fact that he spoke more than anything else, Sharzad didn’t reply for a long, long moment. “Guess so!” She yelled back, ducking quickly to avoid the dragon once more. “Can you get rid of him if I distract him?”

Anemo energy gathered in Aether’s fingertips. “I’ll do my best.”

If she hadn’t been so concerned, she might have shrugged. “Good enough.”

And as Dvalin soared towards her, Sharzad took off her wind glider again.

Venti was definitely doing something to keep both her and Aether afloat for the next two minutes. Just as quickly as she fell towards the ground, Sharzad found herself back at Aether’s level, suspended in the air with a dragon chasing her tail. At the same time, Aether always seemed perfectly positioned behind Dvalin despite one of his arms being too busy shooting energy at the dragon to adequately control his glider. Given that music continued to play in the background, Sharzad momentarily wondered if Venti was also responsible for manipulating the System’s settings.

She plunged yet another time just as Dvalin let out another of his screeching roars. When she caught herself, all she saw was a glimpse of Dvalin’s turquoise tail disappearing in the storm clouds, which remained in the sky despite the dragon’s disappearance.

Not peace, necessarily, but certainly a moment of calm. A moment she took to look at her fellow combatant. Aether simply nodded once in her direction, perhaps a sign of respect, or of thanks. Sharzad wasn’t entirely certain.

Together, they both glided back down to Mondstadt. The rush of wind was accompanied by the feeling of her heart beating its way out of her chest and the cold fear she hadn’t been entirely aware of during the confrontation with Dvalin.

They touched down in the cathedral plaza, just in front of the statue of Barbatos. Amber waited for them there, clearly not expecting Sharzad if the widening of her eyes was any indication. Floating next to her was a white-haired . . . person? Pixie? It was really hard to describe Paimon’s overall . . . shape when Sharzad’s brain was frazzled and also Paimon’s proportions weren’t proportioning.

“A—Are either of you hurt?” Amber asked immediately.

The Traveler shook his head. Now that he was closer, Sharzad could clearly see how similar he looked when compared to his in-game counterpart, all golden hair and eyes the colour of the setting sun. Sharzad guessed he was probably eighteen or nineteen or so (physically, at least), but he had the look of someone who could pass for a high school student while being in his last year of university.

Still, he had scars, which had no doubt been hidden by the simplicity of his in game model. Sharzad could see a few on his stomach, exposed by the crop top he wore, and a long set of claw marks on the visible portion of his right arm. There were many more, too, not to mention the freckles dotting his face in little constellation-like patterns.

“Safe, besides the adrenaline rush,” Sharzad replied after pulling herself from her inspection of Aether’s appearance and its differences from his Genshin Impact counterpart. She could do that with every playable character she’d met (if she could still call them that), like she had over the years with her fathers, Cyno, Tighnari, and Faruzan.

Her voice was immediately replaced by the sound of a lone person clapping. Sharzad noticed Aether tense, a reasonable reaction considering how Kaeya just appeared from the balcony overlooking the rest of the besieged city. The Cavalry Captain walked forward at a slow pace, clapping with every step he took.

“You’ve actually got the power to go up against the dragon . . . are you a new ally, or a new storm?”

Sharzad groaned immediately, remembering her first meeting with the knight. “Do you tell everyone that, Kaeya?”

He smiled lazily at her. “Only the people who interest me.”

She gagged. “I am way too young for you.”

“One can be curious without being romantically interested. Here I was thinking we were becoming friends.” He set his hand on her shoulder, to which she responded by making several calla lilies bloom from his fur cape-thing. “See, you even remember my favourite flower.”

“Can we get back to Stormterror, please?” Amber asked before Sharzad could retort. “He’s attacking the city itself! We need to talk to Jean–”

“How about you introduce us first, Amber?” Kaeya asked. “Of course, I know Sharzad already, but who is this mysterious compatriot of hers?”

“I’m Helios,” Aether said. Now that the storm had died down, Sharzad could more easily hear the accent to his voice, a sign that Teyvan wasn’t his first language, much like for her. “And this is Paimon,” he added, gesturing to his floating companion.

Sharzad blinked. Fake name? Really? “Helios,” she said, testing the name out for a moment. She held her hand out to Aether. “We weren’t formally introduced: I’m Sharzad.”

Aether grasped her hand with his own. The leathery material of his dark brown gloves felt strangely smooth on her skin, as she’d expected something a little rougher considering Aether’s whole adventuring deal. He withdrew within a moment, turning expectantly to Kaeya.

The blue-haired knight gave a short bow, the same kind he gave Sharzad a fortnight earlier. “Kaeya, Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius.” When he straightened, he turned towards the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. “Follow me: I think Acting Grandmaster Jean would like to speak to you.” His eye narrowed on Sharzad, who was trying to step away. “You too.”

~~~

“ You are never doing something like that again! ” Nabu Malikata was yelling as they entered Jean’s office. “ Your feet belong on the ground, not in the air doing a choreographed fall every twenty seconds! ”

She’d yelled the whole way to the Knights’ headquarters, and she continued to yell over Jean’s quick introduction of herself and Lisa, Amber’s quick introduction of Aether (and Paimon) and his quest to find his sister, and Kaeya’s explanation of the events with Stormterror (Sharzad had a hard time keeping a straight face). To be honest, the goddess would probably continue scolding Sharzad until sunrise.

Deshret had tried to placate her, but the sheer force of Nabu Malikata’s glare sent him right into Sharzad’s head, where he clearly wouldn’t be coming out for a bit. Sharzad mentally filed that particular incident as a way to make Deshret shut up if he ever went too far.

“I’m sorry, Helios, but we regrettably can’t do anything more but put up a missing person’s poster for your sister.” Sighing, Jean shook her head. “At least, not until the Stormterror crisis is dealt with. But you are welcome to stay in the city in the meantime.”

Aether held out a hand. “I’ll help out. You look like you need a few extra hands.”

“So will Paimon!”

“In that case, we will need a plan,” Kaeya said.

Sharzad stepped forward. “Hold on a ding-dang second. You didn’t think to ask for my help? I’ve been in the city for weeks.”

Nabu spluttered. “Help?! Do you mean throwing yourself at DRAGONS?! ”

“Until Stormterror directly attacked the city, there was nothing you could do,” Jean said, seemingly unfazed by Sharzad’s youth (as in, she didn’t immediately start protesting that Sharzad was too young to do this ). Her blonde ponytail swayed from side to side as she turned to gesture towards Lisa. “But thankfully, Lisa was able to use the attack to deduce the source of the dragon’s power.”

“Oh?” Kaeya’s eyebrow rose. “Do tell, Lisa.”

“It’s drawing power from the abandoned Four Winds’ temples,” Lisa replied easily. “We will, of course, be dealing with only three of them.”

“Why?” Sharzad asked immediately. The answer was probably related to Mondstadt’s history or something, which was a subject Sharzad knew woefully little about.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Satisfied, Sharzad fell silent, content on waiting for Jean to plan their next move.

The Lionfang Knight stood in silence for a long moment before speaking. “There are seven of us and no time to lose.” Jean tapped her chin twice. “Here: Amber, you take Helios and Paimon to the Temple of the Falcon. Sharzad, Lisa tells me you can manipulate Dendro, so go with her to the Temple of the Lion. Kaeya, you come with me. We’ll take the Temple of the Wolf. We’ll regroup here once they’re taken care of.”

“Hold on: what are we looking for, Master Jean?” Amber asked.

Lisa was the one who answered. “A power source, probably some sort of elemental crystal.”

Amber nodded once.

“Time is against us,” Jean said. “There’s no point in standing around any longer. We must act fast.” She walked towards the door to her office, her heeled boots producing a rhythmic click-clack on the wooden floor. “Let’s move.”

The party of seven began the walk out of the city. Rubble lined the streets they passed through, piles of roofing tiles and broken bricks strewn by fallen plant pots and ruined plants, many of them due to last the winter before they had been uprooted.

This destruction managed to silence Nabu Malikata’s continued ranting, and with a single, simultaneously angry and melancholic look at Sharzad, she vanished in a burst of translucent pink petals.

“What a shame,” Sharzad sighed at the sight of one particularly large mess of flower petals and leaves. The city had been covered in greenery in the weeks Sharzad lived there, although it had generally been decreasing in quantity due to the seasonal shift from autumn to winter. Now that so many of the plants were gone, she suddenly found herself missing Sumeru’s perpetual flora, the ever-present scent of Sumeru roses, and the shadow of the Divine Tree.

And Nabu Malikata’s yelling. It was too quiet now. A strange heaviness weighed in Sharzad’s chest, even though nobody (that she knew of) had died during the attack. Perhaps it was simply the knowledge that this was barely the tip of the iceberg when it came to the damage, the attacks, the carnage she would witness in the future that weighed so heavily in her soul. Up until this point, the danger had typically been concentrated on her specifically, either because she seeked it out or because her ex-professor was attempting to sacrifice her to a god. Now, she had to see the rest of the world suffer, too.

Appropriately, when she stretched out her fingers, a single mourning flower blossomed in her hand. The red blooms hung downwards, supported by a thick, yet ever-so-delicate green stem. Its scent was not particularly strong, but it was present, a small reminder of home and the pot of mourning flowers Kaveh and her had planted together the past summer.

“Whoa, where did you get that?” Paimon asked as soon as she noticed the plant in Sharzad’s hand. “Paimon’s never seen anything like it.”

“It’s a mourning flower, from Su—from my homeland. Legends say that they bloom where ancient battles took place.” She reached to stroke one of the red-tinted leaves with her forefinger. “They're one of my father’s favourites.”

“But that’s so sad! How can they be anyone’s favourite?!”

Sharzad was silent for a few moments. She swallowed. “I think that’s the point. That beauty can bloom even in the most depressing places . . . Dad finds comfort in that. His life wasn’t exactly the easiest before I came along.” Chuckling softly, she continued. “And I haven’t made it that much easier in terms of stress levels, that’s for sure.”

“Paimon didn’t think you were a troubled kid. You’re too mature for that—Paimon actually thought you were an adult until Kaeya mentioned that you’re only sixteen!”

Mature? Me? Funny. Deshret would no doubt have laughed at that.

“Trouble finds me all too easily, unfortunately.” Sharzad snapped off the lower parts of the mourning flower stem so she could more easily tuck it in her hair.

“Like the dragon?” Aether asked.

She sighed. “Like the dragon.”

~~~

She and Lisa made quick work of the domain. For one, it was surprisingly empty. For another, the monsters inhabiting it were mostly slimes and hilichurls, and most of the latter were in a room with a flooded floor. This meant Lisa simply had to zap the water with Electro and let the electric current do the rest.

“The rest of the domains are probably very similar in terms of difficulty,” Lisa mused at one point along their walk back to Mondstadt.

“Yeah, probably.”

For this reason, Sharzad was unsurprised to find Amber, Aether, and Paimon already waiting for them in Jean’s office. She figured that Kaeya and Jean were probably still travelling because their assigned temple was the furthest from the city, and so she decided to sit and wait with the others. Determined not to bore herself, she pulled a thick book from her inventory and began to read.

Paimon noticed this extremely quickly, and immediately started asking questions. “You brought a book with you?! It’s so thick! Where were you even hiding it?!”

Sharzad didn’t take her eyes off the page, mentally marking down where Paimon interrupted her in case she wouldn’t be able to focus completely while being spoken to. “I have my ways.”

“What are you even reading? Let Paimon see!”

Raising her book slightly, Sharzad shifted her hand so the title was exposed. It was an echo of her father, a motion he’d made every time she asked him what he was reading, something that happened a lot when she was at home.

Oh, she could almost hear Kaveh telling her how similar she was to Alhaitham, teasing her about how she’d inherited more of Alhaitham’s quirks than his own. And then Alhaitham might hear this and argue back and they’d keep up the game for a bit.

Nope, not the time.

“ The Elemental Matrix: An Analysis of the Energy Components of Various Ancient Puzzle Mechanisms. ” Paimon blinked as she read the title. “Puzzles?”

“My mentor made me read it years ago. I thought it was about time I reread it.”

That caught Amber’s attention. “ Years ago? That book is thicker than my wrist!”

“Is this an age thing?”

Dead silence. Sharzad took that as a yes.

“I started reading books like this even before I started at the Akademiya. It’s not difficult when you’re used to it.” She turned the page of her book.

“Aka . . . demiya?” Aether echoed. This was the first time Sharzad really noticed that Teyvan wasn’t his first language, besides his accent. Most people in Teyvat knew what the Akademiya was, after all.

“A school in Sumeru,” Lisa explained. “I went there, and so did Sharzad. Although, if you ask me, it isn’t worth it.”

Sharzad huffed a laugh, but she didn’t say anything. If Lisa was talking about the fame both of them experienced as some of their Darshans’ most prodigious graduates, then Sharzad completely agreed that, in some sense, the Akademiya wasn’t worth it. But if Lisa was talking about the pursuit of knowledge and the institution as a whole . . . Sharzad didn’t agree with that, and instead found the statement absurd. Sure, the Akademiya had its issues, but it was still a great opportunity for scholarship, and she wasn’t about to fault it for the simple pursuit of knowledge.

“I’ll show you around if you ever go to Sumeru,” Sharzad said, looking up for the first time. She met Aether’s gaze. “While looking for your sister, or even after you find her.”

The Traveler nodded his thanks, saying nothing. His gaze seemed downcast, probably because he had no idea where to start searching for his sister. Poor guy.

Returning to her book, Sharzad found herself distracted by another thought. “Oh, by the way, do you have someplace to stay the night?”

Amber scratched the back of her neck. “Uhh, we didn’t get to that. Stormterror attacked before we could.”

“Oh.” Sharzad closed her book, marking her page with a finger. “I think the inn I’m staying at still has a bunch of rooms available, if you need somewhere.”

Paimon flew excitedly towards Sharzad’s face. “Does it have food? Paimon’s starving! ”

She couldn’t resist a laugh at the sight of the floating companion’s gleaming eyes. “Calm down, Paimon. Yes, there’s food.” The creak of the door opening betrayed Jean and Kaeya’s arrival. Sharzad didn’t stop speaking. “But honestly, a job well done deserves a night out in a tavern, don’t you think?”

“Aren’t you a little young to drink?” Jean asked.

If Deshret had been out, he would have commented that Sharzad was old enough to drink and do a bunch of other things, but, like Nabu, he was nowhere to be seen. Had been absent for the whole afternoon, actually.

Sharzad shrugged. “Never said it would be alcoholic . The point is the tavern experience. Sumeru’s taverns have to be different from Mondstadt’s.”

Not that she’d been to many taverns in Sumeru. In fact, she’d only ever been to Lambad’s, and only once had she stayed there past ten: her graduation party.

It was because her fathers hadn’t wanted her there, especially Kaveh, who she knew had been doing his best to avoid too much alcohol for years. She’d still managed to see him drunk on occasion, of course, but it was rare. Even rarer was seeing Alhaitham drunk, and the only time she had seen both of them drunk at the same time was at their wedding.

Or, rather, in the aftermath of one of their wedding parties where they’d played a traditional drinking game where each groom took a swig of arak for every question about their partner they answered correctly, a tradition meant to bring them good luck in their marriage. Given the arak used at the wedding was particularly strong, it took very little to get both her parents tipsy, and then drunk. Now, while she had seen them be intoxicated before, there had generally been a layer of separation between them: for example, Alhaitham politely asking Sharzad to retire to her room for the evening, or Kaveh outright throwing her in there when Alhaitham started getting a little too tipsy and, consequently, a little too clingy and, when Kaveh was concerned, handsy.

That hadn’t been the case on this particular night. In fact, without Kaveh there to restrict him and some strange semblance of awareness of his daughter’s presence, Alhaitham had immediately attempted to pick Sharzad up and set her on his shoulders (damn near impossible when he was sober and even more so when he was drunk). When this hadn’t worked, he resorted to outright carrying her back home, and they’d fallen asleep, still fully dressed, in a pile on her fathers’ bed. This was despite Sharzad’s feeble attempts at protesting this, as Alhaitham kept her trapped in an uncharacteristically tight embrace until she relaxed and fell asleep.

It had certainly been a shock to wake up sandwiched between the two the next morning.

But back to the whole Mondstadt tavern situation.

“Let me recommend Mondstadt’s finest –” Kaeya began, before he was swiftly cut off by Jean’s sharp voice.

“Alright. Since we’re eager to quit for the night, I’ll get to the point: we ran into Fatui operatives on our way back to headquarters. They have given us a week to fix the dragon issue, or else they’ll take matters into their own hands and kill Dvalin.”

“Dvalin?” Paimon asked. “Who’s that?”

“It’s Stormterror’s real name,” Lisa explained. She stepped forward from her little corner of the room so she could be seen by everyone inside. “There are four minor wind deities allied with Barbatos: Dragon of the East, Lion of the South, Wolf of the North, and Falcon of the West. Dvalin is—or was—the Dragon of the East, tasked with protecting the city along with the other Four Winds.”

Paimon gasped. “The Fatui want to kill a god? Can they even do that?”

“They can try.” Jean walked over to her desk and sat down, her blue gaze fixed on something in front of her that Sharzad couldn’t see. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow to figure out the next phase of our plan.” Turning her head, she rested her gaze on Paimon, Aether, and Sharzad in turn. “I and the city of Mondstadt would greatly appreciate it if you continued to help us, but I understand if you would rather back out before things become too dangerous.”

“I’m staying,” Sharzad said immediately. “I’m no archon, but I’m damn good with a sword and my brain isn't so bad, either.”

Jean nodded in her direction. “Mondstadt has your thanks. What about you, Helios and Paimon?”

Looking rather uncomfortable under Jean’s stare, Aether instead reached for one of his pockets and withdrew something that gleamed red. He held it up. “I need to show you this. I found it–”

The way he turned to stare at Sharzad made her realise that she had risen to her feet, power thrumming at her fingertips as she glared at the glowing teardrop-shaped crystal. Something rumbled in her throat, probably the closest thing to a snarl or a growl that her very human vocal cords could produce. The crimson energy peeling off the crystal screamed wrong wrong wrong WRONG, and it took all of Sharzad’s strength to force herself to stand down, even as Deshret and Nabu Malikata materialised for the first time in hours.

“ Abyssal taint! ” Deshret snapped immediately, his voice coming out as the shriek of a falcon circling the sky. “ Get it away! ”

“ Purify it! ” Nabu Malikata argued, the shadow of her elongating horns suddenly making her face appear much less human than ever before.

Both of their appearances shifted, some moments appearing like their usual humanoid forms, other times as something much, much less familiar. She caught glimpses of large wings, of too many eyes opening on bare arms and foreheads, of growing talons and horns and tails and everything else Sharzad could possibly think of. For a second, she got the sense that she, too, could manifest these traits if she gave in to the instinct of fighting the Abyssal energy.

Amber rushed forward, planting herself between Sharzad and Aether. She held her hands up as if she was trying to calm a wounded animal. “Woah, settle down! No need to get angry.”

Sharzad forced her power to contain itself, dragging it around her body until it formed a whole cloak made of woven flowers and moss and branches. “It’s–” she stepped back, nearly tripping over her newly generated cloak. “–it’s not anger. That thing–” she gestured vaguely at the crystal still floating above Aether’s palm. “–is tainted by the Abyss. I’d suggest getting it away somehow before it causes problems .”

She winced at the sound of her last pronouncement, as it had once again come out as that not-quite-snarl she’d produced moments earlier.

“The Abyss is involved?” Jean sighed, hands on her temples. “First the Fatui trying to meddle and now this . . .”

“We’ll take care of it, Jean!” Amber exclaimed. “One problem at a time!”

“Agreed,” Kaeya said. “Why don’t we focus on the dragon first? Now that we’ve cut off the main source of his power, it will be much easier to confront him.”

“You want to fight the dragon again?” Sharzad asked.

“ I didn’t fight the dragon, so it certainly won’t be again." Kaeya turned to Jean, holding a hand out. “How about we grab a drink and a meal at the Angel’s Share? We’ll be much more productive once we’ve had a chance to recover our strength.”

Jean kept her gaze focused on her desk for a moment, before raising her head and looking at Kaeya. The gleam—or lack thereof—in her blue eyes was one of exhaustion, like it was taking all her strength not to collapse on her desk for a nap.

“I’ll take care of her,” Lisa assured him. “You can take our city’s noble guests to the Angel’s Share. And, Amber?” she waited until the Outrider sat up in her chair. “Get some rest, sweetheart. Your patrol started at sunrise, and it’s past sunset now. You deserve some sleep.”

Chapter Text

QUEST

That Green Fellow

Travel to the Angel’s Share with your new companions

The Angel’s Share was as classic a tavern as you could get: sturdy walls decorated with all manner of paintings, bottles, and a few stuffed deer heads; much of the available space filled with wooden stools and tables packed with people; and a well-stocked bar behind which stood a lone bartender, who was busy cleaning a single glass with a white cloth.

The sound of plucked strings and singing sounded faint above the sound of people, sometimes accompanied by a plate of grilled fish or large pieces of bread that might have been pretzels, chattering and drinking to their hearts’ content. Sharzad could only make out a few empty seats at the tables, although it appeared that the higher level of the tavern might be emptier.

Kaeya sauntered over to the bar and leaned over the counter, probably grinning at the red-haired man standing behind it. “Master Diluc! How do you fare this lovely evening?”

“Is it just Paimon or does the bartender look really grumpy?”

“Might just be his resting face,” Sharzad replied. “I ran into the guy about a week or so ago, and he was similarly frosty.”

“Ooooh.” Paimon flew forward until she faced Sharzad. “Paimon forgot to ask: how long have you been in Mondstadt, Sharzad? Amber said she gave you glider lessons when we asked about you and that you know a friend of hers, but she doesn’t know anything else about you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sharzad saw Aether wince at Paimon’s bold question, but he didn’t say anything.

“Not that long, actually: only two weeks or so.” She shrugged. “To be honest, if you wanted to ask one of the knights about me, Kaeya or Lisa would be your best—oh, Kaeya’s waving us over. Come on.”

The trio walked (well, Paimon floated, but whatever) over to the bar, where Kaeya had somehow already acquired a glass of wine, no doubt courtesy of Diluc. Speaking of the man, he was still cleaning the same glass, his gaze slowly moving from Paimon to Aether to Sharzad, as if he was analysing them one by one.

“You,” Diluc said when he turned to Sharzad. “I thought I told you to stay out of trouble, yet you find yourself involved with the Knights of Favonius.”

Sharzad snorted. “I think it’s funny that you thought telling me to stay out of trouble was enough. My fathers tried that for years, but unfortunately, it never exactly worked. ” Leaning forward, she created a narrow flower crown made of braided dandelions in her hair. “Trouble has a talent for finding me.”

Diluc’s eyebrow rose, disappearing behind his bangs. He paused in his cleaning of the glass for only a moment, before turning away.

Sharzad couldn’t tell what exactly he was doing at the bar, but when Diluc returned, he slid three tankards full of reddish-brown liquid on the counter.

“Apple cider,” he said when Sharzad reached over to sniff the drink closest to her. “Non-alcoholic, since you’re obviously too young to be drinking, no matter what Sir Kaeya says.”

Kaeya lowered his glass, a look of feigned innocence painting his tanned features. “Who, me? I simply wanted to give them the chance to sample Dawn Winery’s finest wine, Master Diluc. And as its owner, I’m sure you can put in a good word for it.”

Sensing a little tension between the two (Sharzad half-remembered that the two were estranged brothers or something, although she hadn’t paid much attention to this part of Genshin’s lore), she leaned over the counter. “Could we get any food as well? I’ll pay for Helios and Paimon, too.”

Diluc looked like he was about to judge her for her lack of finances, so she reached for her pocket and surreptitiously summoned eight thousand Mora from her inventory, which should hypothetically be enough to pay for whatever was ordered. She held the cloth bag to the wine tycoon, who only continued to stare at her. If she hadn’t grown up with Alhaitham as a father, she probably wouldn’t be able to recognise the look in his eyes as suspicion. Unfortunately for Diluc, she had years of experience in reading people who didn’t emote much.

Skill Godsense , activated. Divine presence detected.

Oh, that meant Venti was nearby. He’d probably enter the tavern within minutes, if he decided to follow Sharzad’s Divine Magnet, as Deshret called it.

“Order what you want, you two,” Sharzad told Helios and Paimon as she grabbed the tankards of cider from the bar. “I’ll take these three and find us a table upstairs.”

“What about you?” Paimon asked. “Don’t you want to eat?”

“Pick whatever you think is best for me. No restrictions. I just need something to get my energy back.”

Aether nodded slowly. Taking it as a sign of agreement, Sharzad made a beeline for the stairs to the second floor, determined to find a table before (and if) Venti showed up.

“ That bartender’s looking at you still, ” Deshret said. “ I don’t trust him. ”

“Good, cause I don’t either,” Sharzad mumbled, just loud enough for Deshret to hear.

She found an empty table in a corner of the upstairs area (which was already pretty empty). After setting the tankards of cider down, she began dragging her fingers across the wooden table, feeling the grooves and dents carved into the surface. From upstairs, the chatter from the main floor came up slightly muffled, and the sound of the bard strumming their lute was almost nonexistent. She could vaguely hear the door to the bar creaking open and shut, but for the most part, the higher level was quieter.

It was nice.

“ You could have stayed with them, ” Nabu told her. “ Why didn’t you? ”

“Tired.”

“ Of people? ”

Shrugging, Sharzad took a sip of her cider, finding it comfortably warm. Some sort of spice had been mixed in with the cider—cinnamon and cloves, probably—and it felt like a reminder of Sumeru’s more . . . flavourful food. She hummed a little at the pleasant taste.

“ You have company. ”

She lowered her tankard, turning her head slightly so she could see the staircase at the other side of the area. A head of blond hair and an accompanying floating silver figure caught her eye, so she turned away again.

“Where’s Kaeya?” she asked.

Aether set a steaming bowl of stew in front of her and slid into the seat across from her, his own bowl sitting in front of him. Paimon eagerly floated at the edge of the table, clearly struggling slightly with the weight of the bowl she held.

“He’ll be up soon, once he finishes talking with Master Diluc!” Paimon replied, before digging into the food in front of her.

Sharzad hesitantly sniffed the bowl, before taste-testing its contents. She found the meat tender under her fork, and the vegetables similarly well-cooked. If this was fresh, it must have been slow-cooking for a while.

“I’m sorry for reacting to that crystal the way I did,” she said after they’d sat in silence for a while. “I must have startled you.”

Aether furrowed his brows in confusion. “Yes. But Jean . . . the way she spoke of the ‘Abyss’ sounded negative. Your reaction was normal, no?”

She shook her head. “People here aren’t—they don’t sense the Abyss that fast.”

“Then they do in your home country?”

“No.” She ate a mouthful of stew and swallowed it. “It’s a me thing.”

“Oh, like the dragon!” Paimon exclaimed.

Sharzad nodded slowly. “What about you? Any particular reason you could shoot that thing with Anemo without having a Vision?”

Aether paused for a second, before echoing Sharzad’s previous statement. “It’s a me thing.”

Fine, keep your secrets. She hummed. “Fair. I won’t pry if you don’t.”

The blond nodded once, and Sharzad got the distinct sense that they had reached an agreement of sorts. She wouldn’t ask him his secrets and he wouldn’t ask for hers. Having played Genshin, she knew even the playable Traveler was private, and she didn’t want to pry too deep this early in what she hoped might become a solid partnership.

“Well hello you three! Mind giving this humble bard a seat at your table?”

A flash of green caught her eye, and before she could process it, she had set her sights on the Anemo Archon.

Venti looked . . . young, to say the least. Much like Aether, he had the look of someone who could simultaneously pass for a young adult or a high schooler, but unlike the Traveler, the gleam in his blue and green gaze was carefree. The twin braids on either side of his head did not help in the childish look, instead almost reinforcing the roundness of his face and eyes rather than distracting from them. The sound of his metal accessories clinking together accompanied his every movement, even when he had slid into the seat next to Aether.

This coincidentally gave him the perfect vantage point from which to inspect Sharzad.

Thankfully, any attempt at scrutiny was interrupted by Paimon floating right at Venti’s face, her blue eyes wide with recognition. “Paimon knows you! You’re the guy who was talking to Stormterror!”

“Dvalin,” Sharzad corrected. “I know the townspeople refer to him by that name, but he’s still Barbatos’ friend underneath whatever’s going on. We should give him that dignity, at least.”

Venti leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head. “Well said, Outlander!” He didn’t jerk back when Deshret appeared next to him, only blinking in interest as the god-king glared at him.

“ Bard, ” Deshret hissed. “ Be subtle, lest I turn your mortal body to sand. ”

Sharzad, being a rational person not in search to duel a god, ignored the threat. “I’m sorry, but you are . . . ?”

The bard immediately stopped looking at Deshret, turning his attention back to Sharzad. He straightened and gave a little half-bow, before returning to his previous position. “Venti the bard, at your service! And who might you and your friends be, my intelligent Sumerian lady?”

“I’m Sharzad.” She gestured at her new friends. “And these are Helios the Traveler and Paimon, his guide. We only met today, so I unfortunately don’t know them well enough to tell you much else besides the fact that we’re working with the Knights on Dvalin’s . . . issues.”

“Are you sure you should be telling strangers that?” Paimon had darted by her ear in order to whisper that.

Sharzad fought to keep her smile as small as possible. She knew she could trust Venti. But no one else (except perhaps Venti himself) knew that she knew that he was Barbatos.

This meant that she was perfectly allowed to say stupid shit and get away with it. Oh this was a power she knew was going to be used for chaos in the coming . . . years? Months? She wasn’t entirely certain of the timeline of Genshin, but she was certain that she knew enough peoples’ secrets and identities that she could fuck with everyone she encountered, no problem.

So, she swirled her spoon in her stew, then said, “He’s not a stranger: he’s Venti.”

Paimon and Aether stared incredulously at her, but Venti’s round eyes narrowed just enough to be noticeable to Sharzad’s eyes (easy enough when all her attention was on the bard). His gaze moved slightly sideways, to where Deshret watched over Sharzad like a guard dog.

Sharzad couldn’t entirely see Deshret’s face, but the eye on her side—the blue one—began to glow, casting a harsh light on the king’s face, and what of his white hair wasn’t concealed by his helmet. “ She knows who you are, Barbatos. Plan your next move accordingly. ”

“You just met him two minutes ago!” Paimon exclaimed.

“I can trust a man I met two minutes ago.”

Nevermind that Venti wasn’t a man, but a god instead. Also nevermind that this would be terrible advice in any other context.

Paimon scoffed. “That’s the craziest thing Paimon’s ever heard!” She turned to Venti. “Why are you even here?”

A mysterious stranger approaching a group of new acquaintances drinking in a tavern was usually a sign of some great quest about to begin. If you worked by D&D rules, of course. Teyvat did not work by D&D rules, but Sharzad did happen to have the System, which meant that her life, at least, was governed by some semblance of fictional rules and as such, Venti arriving meant a quest.

As if reading her mind, the System dinged into being.

QUEST

That Green Fellow

Complete

Reward: 5,400 Mora, 1,000 Character EXP, New Companions in Friendship Menu Unlocked (see menu for details)

“Ah, well, as I’m sure you know, Dvalin is not himself right now. In fact, this is the next stage of something that has been afflicting him for years.”

Aether’s eyes narrowed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the teardrop crystal.

Sharzad braced herself for an onslaught of Abyssal taint that never came. Because the crystal—the tear—had turned a pale shade of teal, and now pulsed with a different energy. This one felt like soaring through the clouds, like the breeze gently drifting through her hair, like breathing the crispest, purest oxygen in Teyvat.

“ Pure Anemo energy ,” Deshret muttered.

“The crystal has been purified?!” Paimon asked. 

Aether slowly lowered the crystal, staring at it in surprise. “Last time I took it out, it was full of . . . impurities.”

“Abyssal taint,” Sharzad added. “Very bad. And it’s— another one?! ”

For in Venti’s palm, there sat yet another of those crystals, also red, also radiating the same wrong wrong WRONG energy that sent Sharzad’s senses into overdrive. Deshret hissed, stretching his arm in front of her like a shield.

“Dvalin was such a gentle being, but his rage and suffering has brought him to tears.” Venti’s voice was soft, melancholic. Sharzad wouldn’t be surprised to find that he’d been crying at the loss of his friend. “Can you purify it, Traveler?”

Deshret continued to hiss.

Aether took the crystal, eyes narrowed at it. He winced as its energy peeled off in waves, slowly replacing the Abyssal energy with that of Anemo. Right before he closed his palm and tucked the tear away, the crystal gleamed with pure energy, restored to its original state.

“Thank fuck,” Sharzad sighed in relief. Deshret stopped hissing.

“You’re new to this, I see,” Venti commented.

“What, sensing the Abyss? That’s not a normal human thing.”

“Oh, but you are no normal human, are you?” The bard smiled at both Sharzad and Aether. “I’m certain more bards than just me will have the honour of composing epics in your names.”

“ Bard, mortal ,” Deshret said suddenly. “ Tread carefully. That cavalry captain has just arrived and is listening in on this conversation. ”

~~~

From the shadows on the other side of the second floor, Kaeya Alberich watched the bard converse with his three companions. He gripped another cup of wine but hadn’t bothered taking a sip since his talk with Diluc at the bar, which had mostly entailed interrogating the man about his connection with Sharzad.

This apparently entailed meeting her on a battlefield and leaving soon after.

“The air was littered with traces of elemental energy, but she doesn’t wear a Vision.”

He was already well-aware of that particular fact. Kaeya wasn’t particularly good at sensing elemental energy, but every time he saw her power flare, the air became positively thick with it. If Diluc sensed it too, then it at least confirmed Kaeya’s suspicions that Sharzad probably wasn’t human.

Kaeya chuckled, doing his best to sound like he was amused rather than intrigued. He had never seen the girl in a physical confrontation before. How would she fight? Did she use a weapon? “Barbatos knows what those Sumerian scholars are up to. Tell me: could she actually fight? ”

“Ask her yourself,” Diluc said, before turning away and effectively ending the conversation.

So, with an exaggerated sigh, Kaeya had taken the stairs to the second floor and, upon finding his compatriots (and investigation targets) in conversation with Venti, a bard , he’d withdrawn to the side so he could spy on them.

“Oh, but you are no normal human, are you?” The bard was saying ( suspicions double confirmed, Kaeya thought to himself). “I’m certain more bards than just me will have the honour of composing epics in your names.”

Sharzad seemed to tense for a moment, before relaxing and leaning back in her seat. “That’s cool and all, but I’d like to actually do stuff before being immortalised in song.”

“I have a good eye for these sorts of things,” Venti replied easily. “But alas, I do not have time to compose such a melody tonight. Perhaps tomorrow.”

“Hmm, we had plans to meet with the Knights tomorrow, but perhaps after if we’re free?” Kaeya watched Sharzad pick up her mug of cider and take a long sip. “I’m sure you have an idea of how to find us.”

“Most certainly!” Venti practically jumped out of his seat. “In that case, I’ll see you lovely travellers tomorrow! Bye-bye!”

Kaeya tracked the bard as he left and, after waiting for a solid minute, decided that he might as well return to the group–

“What a weird guy!” Paimon exclaimed.

“Why do you trust him?” Helios asked Sharzad.

The girl shrugged. “Got a feeling. Call it a side effect of my powers, if that makes it any better.”

“I don’t know what your powers are.”

“True . . . I’ve never had to adequately describe them before, since people usually just assume instead of outright asking. Funny.” Sharzad tapped her chin. “Okay, how’s this: I can summon and manipulate plant life to a high degree, plus some other stuff that I haven’t explored yet because I’ve been too scared of. It’s also the powers of two gods I made deals with and no, Paimon, I won’t explain any more because I’m not comfortable with sharing the rest of it with you.”

Kaeya narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn’t certain if this was a practical joke or not, especially considering the casual tone of her statement. Besides, if she was telling the truth, this was a much, much bigger deal than he thought. Though his memories of Khaenri’ah were few these days, he still remembered things , warnings about encountering trickster ghosts who would force you into making contracts with them and, once you were dead, make use of your corpse as a new body.

Ghost stories, sure, but perhaps stories with more credence than Kaeya had originally believed. Perhaps that was why he got the sense Sharzad wasn’t human. Ghostly residue might do that to a person.

Then, without warning, he found Sharzad staring directly at him from her seat, a single eyebrow raised. “Are you going to join us, Kaeya, or will you keep spying on us instead?”

So she had noticed him. How perceptive of her.

He sauntered over to the table, sitting next to Sharzad. “Enjoying dinner?”

“Enjoying spying on us?” She scoffed, then peered at him closely, her eyes gleaming in the candlelight. “I didn’t think it was part of your knightly duties, Cavalry Captain. Got a second job you haven’t told us about?”

For a single, split-second, Kaeya considered that she might know what he was. Maybe she knew what the star in his pupil meant, or maybe she had somehow encountered the surviving Khaenri’ahns. She certainly was familiar with the Abyss, and the infamous Abyss Order had connections to Khaenri’ah (after all, Kaeya had originally been slated to join its ranks).

“Eh, never mind,” she said, leaning back in her seat with a shrug. “Food okay, Helios, or should I go grab you some more?”

“It’s perfect, don’t bother.”

“Not a bother. I’ll pay for your lodgings tonight, too, until you can get some commissions for the Adventurers’ Guild done.”

“There’s no need to pay for everything,” Kaeya said. “The Knights can surely–”

Sharzad turned her attention back to him, her face deadpan this time. “Kaeya, I am being entirely serious when I say that I have too much Mora. I have been trying to get rid of it for years, but unfortunately for my sanity, it accumulates anyway.”

“How interesting. I was unaware Sumeru’s scholars were so wealthy.”

“That’s me. Just a mere feeble scholar.”

Kaeya sensed that she knew he saw through the lie, but when she didn’t elaborate further, he decided against more questioning tonight. He would surely have ample opportunity to discover what was going on with her in the future.

Chapter Text

QUEST

On the Hunt for the Order

Find Diluc at Dawn Winery

These days, Sharzad could dream, and boy was that a strange feeling after spending six whole years without the ability (thanks to the Akasha, of course). A feeling made worse because of Nabu Malikata’s influence on them, which meant that instead of getting nonsensical dreams she barely remembered, she got to speak to the goddess face-to-face.

And Deshret was probably two seconds away from roping her into training in the middle of the night.

“ You have less than two weeks before you are meant to return to Sumeru and visit your fathers. Do you think you’ll be able to end the Stormterror crisis before then? ”

“I should.” Sharzad had boba in this dream, and so she took a sip of the not-real drink before continuing. “The timeline in the game is a little rough, but I feel like that whole business was resolved over the span of . . . a week, maybe?”

“ Ambitious of you. ”

“We have to be in Liyue for the Rite of Descension, if we’re even remotely going to follow the plot. Now that I know when that is, it’s easy to say that we need to be there before January twelfth.”

Nabu furrowed her brows. “ You’ve given yourself two and a half months in Mondstadt. That’s not much. ”

“Not like we have a choice. Dates are weird in the game, but there’s a few concrete events I remember: the Sabzeruz Festival, of course, and the Rite of Descension. So, we can build a hypothetical calendar sometime so we have an idea of where we’ll be and when.”

“ Since you’re planning out your travels, will you plan your deals, too? ”

Sharzad winced. “That’s—if I do that, I have to decide when and if I’m taking Deshret’s throne, and, I–” Running a hand through her hair, she sighed. “I’ve vaguely warmed up to the idea, but it’s still a lot to consider. Would Celestia wake if a mortal declared themselves the desert’s ruler? And what about the international repercussions? I could be painting a massive target on my back for all we know.”

“ It seems that following Aether on his journey would form a target, anyway. ”

She groaned. “Ugh, I know , but—what the fuck is that knocking?!”

She jolted out of bed, fully prepared to fight whatever was knocking at her window so early in the morning.

Still, despite the adrenaline surge, she was groggy with sleep, and so she ungracefully stumbled out of bed towards the window, where she found, somehow, Venti standing on the other side, three stories up. He grinned at her.

She threw open the window. “Barbatos, what the fuck .”

If possible, his grin became even wider. “Ah, Sharzad, I see you slept well.” The bard gracefully entered her room, landing on the floor with a burst of wind to slow his landing. His cape fluttered slightly in the breeze.

“Why are you at my window?! It’s early! Like, sunrise early.”

Indeed, the sky was just beginning to turn orange and gold from the first rays of sunlight.

Venti, it seemed, didn’t care about how early it was. “The better to speak to you, of course! You know, I haven’t seen Deshret or Nabu since the Archon War. It was quite the shock to find both attached to your soul, let me tell you.”

“So you come to my room at sunrise?! For a reunion?! ”

“Oho, Deshret has had quite the influence on you, I see!” The bard winked conspiratorially at her. “That old grump was always annoyed whenever his plans for the day were disturbed.”

The god in question appeared next to Sharzad in a flash of blue, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed. “ I assure you, Barbatos, I had no influence on the mortal’s impropriety . ”

“Deshret! Haven’t seen you in a few millennia! How are you, old friend?”

“ I do not recall us ever being friends , Barbatos. Merely acquaintances in the aftermath of a deadly conflict. ”

“Pah, you were better friends with that old blockhead, weren’t you? Old sparring partners, right?” Venti tapped his chin. “ Although, last I heard, Morax dropped the whole war god persona, so the Pyro Archon is the only actual warrior god left.”

Deshret whipped out a ghostly version of the Staff of the Scarlet Sands and held it at Venti’s throat. “ You are lucky I am intangible, Barbatos, or else you would find your bones turned to sand. ”

“You can do that?” Sharzad asked in surprise.

The king turned towards her, eyes narrowed. “ Mortal, we have not even begun to go over what I can and cannot do. If you were to amend your deal, you would find that you have quite the arsenal at your disposal. ”

“Not if I have no choice but to take the throne. But if we can make it so I’m allowed access to the most basic elements of your power–”

“ I will not do so unless you acknowledge that you will take the throne at some point in the future. ”

“And I’ve barely warmed up to that idea.”

Deshret slowly nodded at her. “ An improvement. We will discuss it later. ” Then, he turned back to Venti. “ Why are you here? ”

“To see what that strange pull was about. You must have felt it too, didn’t you? Like a siren’s song calling you across the sea.” Venti placed a hand on his heart, looking wistfully into the distance.

Sharzad sighed, realising that she wasn’t going to get to sleep in. Turning to her wardrobe, she searched for a few comfortable items of clothing for the day. “It’s woven into my soul. Not a lot I can do about it short of dying or making a deal with you.” She threw a long-sleeved undershirt over her shoulder and began thumbing through her skirts. “So how about you tell me what your plan is to deal with Dvalin?”

~~~

“Uhh, Sharzad, why is Venti coming to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters with us?”

They were about halfway to Headquarters when Venti joined them, all smiles and loud greetings despite the fact that Sharzad was still very grumpy about being woken up at the ass-crack of dawn. And all because Venti wanted to see what the heck her divine magnetism was about.

“We talked over a plan to deal with Dvalin this morning,” Sharzad replied, totally ignoring the fact that Venti had basically broken into her room in order to speak to her.

Paimon stared at her. “When?! It’s nine in the morning and you’ve been with us for the past hour!”

She huffed. “He woke me at sunrise. Bastard. Guess that’s what I get for trusting him from the get-go.”

She did not, in fact , trust Venti (to be honest, she probably didn’t trust anyone except her close friends and family in Sumeru, and Yoimiya). What she had was faith in the fact that he cared about Dvalin, which would be enough for now. Heck, she would no doubt have to team up with much more unsavoury characters in the future, so an Archon with a generally mysterious past was the least of her worries.

“ Sunrise? ”

“Don’t look at me when it’s his decision.” To indicate who she was talking about, she jabbed her finger in Venti’s direction.

The god merely stared back at her, his face the perfect picture of innocence. “You were going to wake up, anyway. What’s the harm in waking you a few minutes early?”

“An hour is not a few minutes, and can in fact deeply disrupt my sleep schedule, considering how late I went to bed last night and–oh sweet Kusanali, I sound just like my father!”

Groaning at the mental image of Alhaitham lecturing her with the same exact argument and tone of voice, she ran a hand through her hair, scraping at her scalp as if that would wake her from this sudden nightmare.

“Oh, that’s right, Paimon forgot to ask! Didn’t you say father s yesterday?” She enunciated the ‘s’ at the end of fathers . “Was that a mistake or do you have two . . . ?”

“Yes, I have two fathers.”

“So what about your mom?”

“I’m adopted. Never met her.”

Paimon blinked, wide-eyed. “Oh. Paimon is sorry!”

“For what?” She huffed a laugh as they climbed the steps towards the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. “It’s natural to assume things. Besides, I’ve had a great time these past six years, so it doesn’t bother me. Dad and Papa are perfect.”

They entered the headquarters and immediately turned to Jean’s office, finding the Acting Grandmaster talking to Lisa and Kaeya.

Jean noticed them immediately. “Good morning everyone. Helios, Paimon, Sharzad, and . . . a bard?”

“Oh, this is Venti,” Sharzad said before the bard bastard could speak. “He came up with a plan to help Dvalin.”

Venti cut in the second she’d finished speaking. “The solution to Mondstadt and Dvalin’s pain is deceptively simple. If I was able to get the Holy Lyre der Himmel and play one of Barbatos’ melodies, it might be enough to draw Dvalin’s gentle nature from where it’s been suppressed.”

“The Lyre . . .” Jean drifted off, clearly deep in thought if the hand on her chin and her furrowed brows were anything to go by.

“You didn’t tell us any of this!” Paimon exclaimed.

“You would have found out when we explained the plan,” Sharzad answered while mentally debating whether she sounded too much like Alhaitham or not. “I saw no point in explaining it more than once.”

“That’s just lazy!”

She rolled her eyes. “I woke up at sunrise, what do you expect from me?”

“That certainly explains your uncharacteristic grumpiness,” Kaeya commented, though the light in his gaze was more teasing than anything else.

Instead of dignifying the comment with a response, Sharzad merely rolled her eyes again and turned her attention to Lisa. “Anything new from the library, Lisa?”

“Only a confirmation that the energy was Abyssal, but unfortunately no precedent for that type of crystal.”

“Venti says Dvalin was brought to tears. What if that’s what those are?”

Lisa pursed her lips. “Then he’s likely been contaminated by some form of Abyssal energy, too. In that case, purifying him must be our first priority.”

“And for that, we need the Lyre,” Jean said. She turned to Venti. “Are you certain you’ll be able to purify him if you have the Lyre?”

Venti nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Then I’ll arrange the paperwork and send—Kaeya, why don’t you go with Venti to get the Lyre? Once you have it, Helios and I will meet you at the front gates and–”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold on,” Sharzad said. “What about me?”

Lisa’s hand found her shoulder immediately. “You’ll stay here in the city, in case it needs to be defended.”

“There’s a dragon! ”

Jean stepped forward so she could make eye contact with Sharzad. “A dragon that targeted you personally yesterday. If you show up, it could make him more unstable. I’d rather he didn’t drag you off.”

“ She has a point, ” Nabu Malikata commented. “ He was quite relentless yesterday. ”

Sharzad seriously considered yelling at the goddess, but, in the interest of not looking insane, kept her mouth shut. It was true that Dvalin might get riled up at the mere sight of her, so maybe it was in her best interest to stay away for the moment? Kaveh would never forgive her if she came home missing a limb or three, and to be honest, she was more terrified of her fathers’ disappointment than she was of the dragon.

NEW QUEST

On the Hunt for the Order

Find Diluc at Dawn Winery

“Don’t worry, Sharzad, we’ll tell you about everything that happens!” Paimon exclaimed. “That way you won’t miss out.”

“Huh. Thanks.” Sighing, she began walking towards the door. “Guess I’ll see you later: got some commissions to do for the guild.”

And by ‘commissions’ she meant a quest and by ‘guild’ she meant Diluc. A trail of golden sparkles were leading her to her destination, so she didn’t even have to work to track him down, either.

Time to kick down that man’s door and drag him off on a quest.

~~~

Diluc was, by all accounts, having quite the normal morning. He’d woken up, been served a nice breakfast, and then spent the first few hours of his day trying to make sense of the monster attacks in the City of Mondstadt late the previous night.

The Abyss Order was getting active, and he would be damned if he didn’t figure out the source of the issue and take it out.

He was busy staring at a map of the city (helpfully marked with the location of every single attack he'd thwarted) when he heard a shout from somewhere on the lower floor and footsteps rushing for his office.

His door flew open with a bang, and there stood that teenager from the previous night—Sharzad—looking like she’d just kicked his door open.

“Come on, Diluc, we’re going to interrogate some Abyss mages!”

This was how his normal morning turned into following the strange child into the wilds of Mondstadt, towards a destination even she didn’t seem certain of. But, having no leads on the Abyss Order and wanting to prevent Sharzad from getting herself killed, Diluc followed her right out into Mondstadt’s less inhabited wilds.

Dawn Winery’s intelligence network had provided him with basic information about the girl, but he hadn’t been on particularly high alert since, for the most part, she was busy interacting with Knights of Favonius like Lisa and Amber and hadn’t done anything suspicious.

But someone who could manipulate elemental energy without a Vision still warranted some degree of alertness. Though she didn’t appear to be Fatui, she might still have connections to them, or have purchased a Delusion at some point. He didn’t want to lower his guard when he still didn’t know what her deal was.

So he followed her out into the woods, which in hindsight might have been a terrible idea.

“You have to be pretty suspicious of me to follow me out into the woods,” she commented ten minutes into the walk.

They’d been silent up until that point, and somehow the first thing she said managed to pick out his exact reasoning for leaving the winery.

“Most rational people wouldn’t follow a person they’ve only met twice into the wilds. But just the mention of the Abyss Order has you on your feet.” She casually plucked a dandelion bloom out of thin air, inspecting the petals. “Got anything to do with that map in your office?”

Diluc activated his Elemental Sight, catching only wisps of Dendro peeling off her fingertips in tandem with the strange pink energy visible to the naked eye. “My business with the Abyss Order is none of your concern.”

“Yet you followed me out to interrogate some mages, and I can’t imagine it’s simply to satisfy your own curiosity about me. If Kaeya approached you last night, it must be because he thought you had more intel than he did.” She suddenly laughed, apparently not noticing that Diluc had nearly tripped over his own feet in shock. She figured it out? “I found it cute that he tried spying on me and Helios after speaking to you. Guess you don’t know much about me either, do you?”

So she was smarter than he gave her credit for. An oversight on his part, given that he’d simply assumed she was a sass-filled teenager who had attended the Sumeru Akademiya at some point in her life. Perhaps he should have known it wasn’t the case.

“Your silence speaks volumes. Why don’t you ask me questions directly instead of snooping around?”

“I don’t trust you to answer truthfully.”

“Huh, at least you’re honest about it. But, look, we still have a while to walk and we might as well find something to talk about. Like what the heck the Abyss Order is–”

Diluc stopped in his tracks, grabbing the girl’s forearm to stop her from walking too far ahead. “You’re investigating something you don’t know anything about? ”

The next string of words from Sharzad’s mouth were in an unfamiliar language, but given the sudden blazing look in her eyes, it was probably a series of expletives. “You didn’t let me finish,” she grumbled in common Teyvan. “What the Abyss Order is doing in Mondstadt. Dvalin’s been contaminated by Abyssal energy, right? So chances are the Abyss Order has something to do with that.”

He let go of the girl’s arm with a sigh. “The Abyss Order has been eyeing Mond for years. It’s nothing new.”

Sharzad didn’t start walking, instead making eye contact with him. “So why did Jean look surprised to hear they’re involved with Dvalin?”

“The Knights are incompetent.”

She paused for a moment, as if listening for something Diluc couldn’t hear. “Oh? Or is there something keeping the Abyss at bay? Something that I’m pretty sure is you, given the sheer amount of stuff about the Abyss Order in your office.”

How did she–? “You were in there for less than a minute. How could you presume to know anything?”

“I have more than one pair of eyes at my disposal, Master Diluc.”

The small grin she sent him was somehow more dangerous than any of her other comments up until that moment.

What have I gotten myself into?

~~~

For the second time that day, Diluc grabbed her arm and kept her from moving forward, this time because of something floating not too far off.

The Abyss mage.

They hid behind a pair of trees not too far off from the creature. A quick check with Sharzad’s quest menu showed that this was the mage the System wanted her to interrogate, a given since the System was busy pinging her with golden sparks that meant this is your target : a level 50 Hydro Abyss mage.

Thank fuck I have someone with me.

“I will interrogate it,” Diluc said sharply. “You will infuse it with Dendro and nothing else. I will not appreciate it if you burn yourself with my fire.”

Then, without waiting for her to take out her weapon, he brought forth his claymore and raced for the Abyss mage.

“ What an insolent mortal, ” Deshret commented.

“ He reminds me of how you were once. ”

“ What?! I was never such an—an ass! ”

Sharzad rolled her eyes and walked out from behind the tree, where Diluc was busy throwing flames nonstop at the Hydro mage. It didn’t seem to be doing much to the thing’s shield, so Sharzad did what she did best, AKA summoning a bunch of plants directly into the shield.

Three seconds later, the shield was half fractured and several Dendro cores surrounding the mage had exploded from Diluc’s relentless fire attacks, causing the grass to turn blackened and burned from the damage. Sharzad hadn’t taken her sword out yet, instead staying on the sidelines and waiting for another good opportunity to summon plants (she didn’t want to hit Diluc because he’d hate her for it).

The Hydro mage sent several water projectiles at Diluc, who dodged them with twirls and other motions way more suited to dance or showmanship than actual combat. Was he just showing off that he could move like that with a massive claymore or was there a point to the display?

Sighing (again), Sharzad decided to fuck it and just summon a gigantic pitcher plant, which proceeded to close around the Hydro Abyss mage. The plant shook furiously for a few moments, generating several Dendro cores. Diluc then proceeded to ruin the moment of peace by setting the ding-dang pitcher plant on fire.

“Hey! That took a decent chunk of energy!”

“ I don’t think he cares, ” Deshret commented as Diluc hit the now shieldless mage with several bursts of fire.

“Clearly not.”

Another flash of fire lit up the air, and then came the rough voice of the Abyss mage: “How did you find me here!? Favonian scum!”

Oh, it was interrogation time. Fantastic. Sharzad sauntered over to the mage, standing close enough to Diluc that she could vaguely smell the burning of the Abyss mage’s flesh. Gross.

“I am no Knight of Favonius. Now, start talking: what is your Order’s business in Mondstadt?”

“Ha! You’re delusional if you think simply asking is going to get me to spill Abyss Order’s secrets!” Then, it spoke in a different language. “ Human vermin! ”

“ Humans aren’t the vermin here,” Sharzad said loudly.

If the Abyss mage had a face, it would no doubt have been gaping at her. “ And who are you, who speaks Abyssal? ”

Abyssal.

She vaguely remembered her conversation with ‘O’ two years earlier. Right. Abyssal, or Primordial. The language of the ancients, the language she had been born into this world speaking. She had almost forgotten that some monsters spoke it, too, seeing as she’d never met anyone besides Deshret and Nabu Malikata who could understand it. Even Alhaitham hadn’t grasped much of the language because she had never gotten around to teaching him. He only knew the words she spoke at home, which mostly entailed swearing and calling him pater, aka Dad.

Sharzad decided to ignore the question. “Answer his question in Teyvan: what is the Abyss Order up to in Mondstadt? What are you planning?”

“I won’t tell–”

With orange flame sparking in his palm, Diluc reached forward and grasped the mage’s furry blue mane-thing. The smell of burning fur filled the air, almost sending Sharzad into a coughing fit. She held herself back by sheer strength of will.

“I am afraid you don’t understand the severity of your situation,” Diluc said calmly. “Speak. Now. ”

“Did you just use a Pyro Vision to summon fire from your hands?! How dare— AGH! ”

Diluc had burned it again, sending more of that acrid scent into the air. “Do you wish for this to continue much longer?”

“Y-you won’t break me–”

Sharzad summoned several vines to snare the mage’s arms and, stepping forward so she stood next to Diluc rather than behind him. “ Speak, ” she ordered in Abyssal, keeping her power flaring so she also had the touch of divinity in her voice. It sucked when she was with friends, but in an interrogation, it was perfect.

“Ack! Okay, okay! I’ll talk.”

“Good,” Diluc said, his voice low and threatening . “Then start doing so before I lose my patience.”

Personally, Sharzad thought he had already lost his patience, but she kept her mouth shut rather than wasting her breath.

“Th–the Abyss Order! We’ve amassed a great enough force to besiege the City of Mondstadt itself!”

Diluc held up another flame, another threat. “ When? ”

“When the Knights are distracted by the dragon! When the City is left without its greatest warriors!”

“Dvalin’s a distraction?! ” Sharzad asked. “ Really? ”

“The City will fall, and the rest of Mondstadt with it!”

Diluc intensified the fire in his palm. “ No. ”

And before Sharzad could say anything, he blasted the monster with enough fire to reduce it (and the vines, obviously) to a pile of ash. No materials popped up from it, but she hadn’t been expecting rewards, either.

“Wow–” Sharzad started.

Diluc pointed his claymore at her throat. “ You. I knew there was something wrong with you. Abyssal filth. ”

So he’d taken the slip to heart. Fucking fantastic.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected something to happen: she had, because Diluc was naturally suspicious. She just hadn’t expected him to fucking haul his claymore up and hold it right up to her throat.

“ Mortal, ” Deshret warned, as if she hadn’t noticed the fucking blade right about to dig into her throat.

Sharzad narrowed her eyes, doing her best to keep her voice level and calm despite the panic rising in her chest. “Diluc, I’m being entirely serious when I say that you need to put that blade away before you regret all of your life choices.”

His vision sparked to life, sending flame along the edge of his blade. “ My life choices? Who is the one speaking Abyssal here?”

“I will bring the goddamn General Mahamatra of Sumeru here if all that you need is proof that I was found alone in the desert at the age of ten with no memories of my past.” Feeling the anger leaking into her voice, she tried to reel it back again. “I only spoke Primordial until my fathers taught me Teyvan, and I don’t know why I can speak Primordial. ”

“Lies, and another ploy to fool me. I can see through your deceptions.”

“ Let me speak to him, ” Nabu Malikata said calmly, her anger betrayed in the way her horns had grown larger, her form shifting between human and divine.

She considered Diluc, still holding his claymore to her throat, and then the god-king standing next to her. “Alright, Nabu. Just don’t disintegrate his weapon.”

“ Of course. ”

With the usual hand on head, hand on heart gesture, Sharzad took a backseat in her own mind, ready to watch whatever would happen next.

Nabu Malikata hadn’t even moved, but the Wolf’s Gravestone in Diluc’s hand was ripped from his grasp by a stray vine and sent flying. Two more vines circled his wrists, pulling them back so he stood, trapped by thick plants. His eyes had gone wide at the display for only a moment, before narrowing again.

“ Primordial is the language of the gods, Diluc Ragnvindr, ” Nabu Malikata said, her voice coming out like a low hiss. “ Primordial is the language I and my angelic kin spoke aeons before humanity was even thought of. Primordial is not a language that belongs to the Abyss, though most of its speakers nowadays come from that devilish pit. ”

Flames burst from Diluc’s fingertips in a clear attempt to burn away the vines keeping him captive. “What are you?” There was a gleam in his eyes that Sharzad recognized: terror. Primal, instinctive terror.

“ I am the Goddess of Flowers, the Queen of All Oases, benefactor to Sharzad Athari Taftazani, Queen of Vahumana and Envoy of the Scorned Gods. ” Nabu Malikata was circling Diluc now, prowling like the leopards in the rainforests did. Sharzad noticed her shadow changing as curling horns sprouted from her head. “ You are lucky that she is merciful, that she does not like to kill living creatures, even hilichurls. Had you threatened any of my retainers when I still lived, you would have perished from the blooms growing directly in your lungs. ”

“What do you want?”

Nabu Malikata prowled towards Diluc, raising a hand with clawed fingertips (when did that happen?) to hold Diluc’s chin. Forcing him to look at her, she leaned in. “ Sharzad is not here to endanger your people. In fact, she is here to aid you. I understand you are threatened by things you do not comprehend– ” she did not sound one bit understanding, actually. “– but threaten her once again and you will find no mercy at my hands. I am always watching over her, Diluc Ragnvindr, and I will know if you deny her assistance or turn your weapon against her. You have been warned. ”

And, disoriented, Sharzad was back in her body, back in control.

She lowered her hand from Diluc’s chin, watching in fear and fascination as her claws receded. Her head felt strangely heavy, and when she reached upwards, she found the pair of horns also slowly shrinking away.

“Weird.” And terrifying. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.

Since when could she do that?

“ I had no idea you were capable of that, ” Nabu Malikata said.

Sharzad nodded at her. “We’ll work on it.”

Diluc’s voice cut across any other comment she wanted to make, surprisingly small and scared. No doubt the normal response to being threatened by an angelic being from the beginning of time. “What happened? ”

“Two years ago, I made a deal with some gods. You just happened to meet one of them.” Snapping her fingers, Sharzad disintegrated the vines at Diluc’s wrists. He rubbed them both, looking quite affronted as she continued. “Do you believe me now?”

The man continued to stand, now staring rather blankly ahead of him. “You—I do not understand why she didn’t simply kill me. ”

Humming in response, Sharzad walked over to the Wolf’s Gravestone and, with some difficulty because of how heavy it was, dragged it over to Diluc. “She told you: I don’t like killing living beings. I have to do it, yes, but I try to avoid it as much as I can.” She held out the weapon to Diluc, who took it and immediately made it disappear into his Vision. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to do that, though. If the Abyss Order will be in Mondstadt in a few days . . . I’ll have to prepare.”

“ Will you finally allow me to teach you the way of the spear? ” Deshret asked.

Sharzad considered how to format her answer so she didn’t look like she was talking to Deshret. “Alright. Come on, Master Diluc, let’s get you back to Dawn Winery so you can at least be comfortable while you’re having a crisis.”

Chapter Text

QUEST

Ascension: Rank I

Clear the ruins

“Why do I only have two minutes to beat all these creatures?!”

She had been halfway through the Ascension Challenge, had one room to go, when she found her path blocked by a timed challenge: she had two minutes to defeat several enemies that would spawn periodically.

Then she failed said challenge, and proceeded to spend the next five minutes healing herself and attempting to recover her strength.

“Target the weak ones first,” Deshret told her. “Then go for the stronger ones.”

“Easier said than done.”

But she followed his advice anyway, and by some miracle combination of pure adrenaline and Deshret and Nabu Malikata warning her when the enemies came, Sharzad managed to stumble out of the domain with a fraction of her health remaining, several bleeding wounds, and a new pop-up window begging her to choose a new weapon type.

You have unlocked the polearm weapon and have been granted the two star weapon, Iron Point! Train yourself in order to level up your weapon and unlock special combat tactics and skills by training with certain individuals.

She nearly collapsed onto the grass once she’d selected the new weapon type, saving herself by sheer strength of will (and also by slowly bending on one knee in order to support herself). The blue glow of the Windrise Statue of the Seven beckoned her to walk towards it for some healing, but she was too tired to do so. Maybe she should have activated the domain closer to one of the statues instead of in the first empty area she found outside of the city.

“Well done.”

Still panting from exertion and exhaustion, Sharzad turned her head to stare incredulously at Deshret, who stared right back, his heterochromatic gaze utterly unreadable. For once, he sat next to her rather than staying standing, a strange sign of . . . trust? Respect? Something else?

“Did you—you’re not proud of me, are you?”

The slight furrow of his brows and the matching frown showed his confusion. Deshret tilted his head slightly, the sunlight catching on his golden helm. “Why would I not be, mortal? You fought your way through a small army of hilichurls and managed to defeat them in under two minutes. That is quite the accomplishment.”

“Fifteen hilichurls, not an army. And I’m exhausted.” She flopped down in the grass to prove her point.

“Exhaustion is normal in the aftermath of battle.”

She snorted, turning her head so she could look at the god. Deshret’s posture, as normal, was impeccable, his back straight even as he sat in the grass. “What, even you got tired?”

“Over three thousand years, I encountered many battles that ended with my foes dead and myself not far off.” Deshret reached for his headdress, adjusting it slightly as he continued to speak. “The monsters that once roamed this world, the gods and humans that thought besieging my home would earn them glory or even the title of archon . . . I have fought battles that lasted for days on end, having won purely by intelligence rather than raw strength. No being could walk away from such a fight unscathed, and despite my age and my power, I am no exception.”

“But . . . you’re a god. The desert’s king.”

“Yes.”

After a moment, Sharzad blinked at him. “You’re not going to elaborate?”

“I do not see the point of doing so.”

She turned her head back to the sky. “Course you don’t. It’s not like I don’t know shit about your past or your powers.”

“You are the one who refuses to amend your deal with me. You’re lucky I have even considered teaching you the martial arts I invented.”

A sudden shout pierced the calm air, and Sharzad slowly sat up, right in time to see Aether and Kaeya running towards her, accompanied by Paimon (who was flying because she couldn’t run). Their concerned expression confused Sharzad for a moment, until she remembered that she was covered in blood and also had been lying in the grass.

“Sharzad!” Paimon exclaimed. She floated up and down, wide-eyed as she inspected each splatter of blood on her clothes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just resting.”

Aether held a hand out to help her stand. “You’re covered in blood.”

“Yep.” Stumbling slightly from a bout of dizziness, Sharzad put her hand on her forehead. “Ugh.”

“Get into a fight, did you?” Kaeya asked, his gaze intrigued more than anything else, although Sharzad had already noticed the concerned expression he’d worn seconds earlier.

“Domain, actually. What, wish you’d seen it?”

“Can you blame me? You’ve been in Mond for weeks and I have yet to see you in combat.” The blue-haired knight leaned in, his smile mischievous. “But of course, since you travelled from Sumeru to Mondstadt on your own, you must be quite the fighter.”

“If a duel is what you wanted, you could just ask.” Dragging her fingertips along the edge of her sleeve, she sighed. “Guess I’m going to have to get this entire outfit replaced since there’s no way I’m getting all this blood off.”

“Mix cold water and salt together and leave that to soak for a few hours. Gets the stains out pretty well.”

She blinked at Kaeya. Since he was a knight, it wasn’t entirely surprising that he knew how to get blood out of clothes. Maybe she should have anticipated that. Maybe. But, honestly, she was way too exhausted to think clearly and just wanted to eat some good food and sleep.

Mostly sleep.

~~~

Unfortunately, she didn’t get to sleep. Why? Because of food.

Aether, perhaps sensing that she was liable to collapse at any moment and also in dire need of sustenance, suggested they grab dinner at Good Hunter together and, because it was raining, regroup in Aether’s room to eat. With no way of saying no without revealing the stockpiles of food in her inventory, Sharzad agreed, but on the condition that she would stop by her room in the Falcon’s Nest for a quick bath, a fresh pair of clothes, and to soak her blood-soaked clothing. Meanwhile Aether went to buy three portions of stick honey roast from Sara.

With what Mora did he do this? Good question: Sharzad’s.

They regrouped in Aether’s room and, due to spatial constraints (and Aether’s unwillingness to let Sharzad sit on the floor alone), they sat on the floor, backs against the walls. While they ate their meal, Aether and Paimon took turns explaining what they’d been up to.

“. . . so we went to the three areas for the crystals and brought them to Venti so he could repair the Lyre. Tomorrow, we’ll be confronting the dragon.”

Sharzad winced as her knife screeched across the bottom of her plate. “You mean I could have gone with you this whole time?”

“We didn’t know the Lyre wouldn’t be charged!” Paimon exclaimed.

Holding up her hand to calm the little creature, Sharzad spoke in a calm, quiet tone. “I’m not blaming either of you. Just a little annoyed, that’s all. Had a long day.”

“The domain was a long day?” Aether’s eyes sparked with mischief, a sign that he was teasing.

“Well, I spent the morning on an expedition with Diluc and then he threatened me, so–”

This caught Paimon’s attention. “Master Diluc threatened you?! Why?”

Aether, too, was wide-eyed, probably because he hadn’t expected Sharzad to have been threatened. Probably also because of how casually she dropped the fact that Diluc threatened her.

Sharzad, for her part, simply shrugged. The morning’s ordeal hadn’t changed anything besides her knowledge of her own powers, as she still didn’t trust Diluc, which was the only other thing that might have changed. “A simple misunderstanding. Don’t worry about it.”

“They will definitely worry about it,” Nabu Malikata commented.

She, of course, knew this. But she also didn’t care.

“More importantly, we received intel about the Abyss Order, so I’ll be taking the information to Jean first thing tomorrow morning, assuming you guys don’t leave too early. Knowing Diluc and his whole the Knights are woefully inefficient deal, he didn’t tell the Knights about the Order.”

“Paimon never asked, but what is the Abyss Order?”

Sharzad shrugged again. “Um, a powerful organisation of Abyssal monsters, hell-bent on world destruction? Generally pretty evil? I don’t really know much, to be honest.”

Aether stood, walking over to the desk so he could set his empty plate down. “It’s not active in Sumeru?”

She shook her head. “Not that I know of, but I was also busy with my own . . . villains growing up so I didn’t really notice anything outside my own sphere.”

“Villains?” he sat on the floor again, peering curiously at Sharzad.

“Long story. Not really the time to share it, if I’m being honest.”

“Then we don’t have to talk about it. We don’t even have to talk about business like the Abyss Order.”

She blinked at him. “What are we supposed to talk about then?”

Aether shrugged. “Hmm. Your favourite colour?”

“Ah, so you want to get to know me.” Shrugging again, she sighed. “Alright, I’ll bite. My favourite colour is pink. But, like, this specific shade–” with a flick of her wrist, she created a branch covered in sakura flowers, holding it out to Aether until he reached over and took it.

Something like familiarity gleamed in his gaze as he lifted the flowers to his nose to take a long, slow sniff. Sharzad wondered if he had ever travelled to a different world with cherry blossoms. He probably had.

“Is that a flower from Sumeru?” Paimon asked.

Sharzad shook her head. “From Inazuma. It’s called sakura. Cherry blossoms.”

“Ooh, Inazuma’s the nation of Electro, right?”

“Yeah. It’s made up of a bunch of islands, to the south of here and Liyue.” She sighed, suddenly thinking of Yoimiya. “My best friend is from there.”

Paimon furrowed her brows, hand on her chin. “If it’s your best friend, why do you sound so sad?”

Sharzad climbed to her feet, following Aether’s example and setting her plate on the desk, too. “The Raiden Shogun—their Archon—closed their borders a few months ago. Yoimiya and I started off as pen pals for one of my school projects, so we communicate with letters, to the point where I’ve only met her in person once. ” Sighing, she looked outside Aether’s window at the small patch of sky they could see. Were the people in Inazuma able to even see the sky, or were the false stars of Teyvat blocked out by storm clouds? “With the Sakoku Decree in place, we can’t even send letters anymore.”

“But, why did the Raiden Shogun even enact the decree in the first place?” Paimon asked. “If it’s an island nation, don’t they need boats to get to the mainland? How would they know what’s going on in the world?”

“No idea,” she lied. “But if I get the chance, I’m going to travel there and find out what’s happening to my friend. She did the same when I–” swallowing, she took a breath to calm her rising heart rate. “–was in a coma two years ago.”

The room fell silent for a long moment.

Sharzad sighed again, before turning to Aether with a small smile. She was done with the depressing stuff. “Anyway, favourite colours: what’s yours?”

~~~

She left the city relatively early the next morning, taking care to go in the opposite direction of Starsnatch Cliff, where Aether and the others had gone to summon Dvalin. The dragon was unstable at the moment and she didn’t want to risk grabbing his attention.

Besides, she had more important things to do: learn how to use the Sunfire’s Scourge or, more accurately, learn how to wield a polearm.

She set up shop in a large, open field scarcely fifteen minutes away from a waypoint on Windwail Highland. Had she walked there, it would have been at least a full two and a half hour trek from the City of Mondstadt, but luckily enough, the only walking she had to do was the ten-ish minute walk up to the flat hilltop.

Given she had to walk at all, she took the opportunity to talk to Deshret about teaching her.

“We will begin with the basics. I do not care if you have experience in polearm combat, you must start with the basics to have any hope to defeat gods in battle.”

Sharzad clambered up what appeared to be a crumbled cliffside, now nothing more than a pile of lichen-covered boulders forming a route up to the top of the cliffs. “I have my powers. Besides, I don’t look like a threat.”

“You cannot rely on being underestimated for long. Have you forgotten how quickly the knowledge of your power spread in Sumeru? There will come a day when your name is known across all of Teyvat, when tales of your deeds reach even the most secluded.” Deshret momentarily vanished from her side, reappearing at the top of the boulders. “Did you really think the likes of Morax will not notice the Divinity in your veins the moment you appear in their vicinity? They will not underestimate you, so it is better to be prepared for the worst.”

“I am not going to fight Zhongli,” she declared between shaky steps up the unstable mountain of boulders. “That is asking to die by meteorite.”

“I will teach you how to defeat him. Knowing that stubborn god, he has not changed his tactics in millennia.”

“But I don’t have your powers. That was part of how you fought him, right?” Hauling herself to the top of the mountain of boulders, Sharzad forced herself not to collapse upon the grass due to the sudden stability of the ground beneath her feet. “Or did you two have a contract where you wouldn’t use your powers when you fought?”

“They levelled mountains, actually, ” Nabu Malikata said cheerfully. “It was quite impressive to see, the few times I managed to catch them fighting each other.”

Sharzad groaned. “Shit. So he’ll be chucking meteorites anyway?”

“Among other things. Now, if we could finally sit and discuss an amendment to our deal, you might be able to tap into my power and dissolve his constructs into sand . . .” Deshret observed her for a moment, before turning away. “But I will not force such a decision upon you.”

“Less than a year ago you were still pressing me to take your throne.”

“I still wish for you to do so.”

She blinked at him. “Then why–”

“The amendment I propose will only entail a clause acknowledging that you will eventually take the throne, a stipulation you have shown interest in. Whether that is in three decades or in a year, so long as you acknowledge that you will take the throne and aid the people of the desert, you will have access to the more basic aspects of my power.”

“Which is . . . ?”

The look in Deshret’s eyes was strange, as if he had suddenly come across a ray of hope. Then, his face returned to its usual serious mask. “We will go over the specifics together and write them down, if you are willing. I am a god of many things, and my influence over Sumeru is still felt all over, even in Akademiya positions like that of the General Mahamatra.” Sharzad knew this, as they had discussed it briefly after she met Neuvillette. It turned out the jackal/Anubis imagery of Cyno (and Deshret’s deceased priests) went deeper than expected. “I can acknowledge that my knowledge of humans is quite rudimentary, and I would prefer to ensure you are comfortable with any novel abilities rather than forcing any upon you.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Nabu Malikata told me that the manifestation of some of her divine traits frightened you yesterday. I would rather you were not terrified of your own abilities.”

Sharzad crossed her arms. “I was not scared. Well–no I kind of was, but it was really just because I’ve never done that before and it felt weird. The horns threw me off balance, and the claws . . . it doesn’t matter. Nabu and I will be working on it.”

“I . . . shall endeavour to do the same.”

“You’ll teach me? You’ve been generally uncooperative for the past two years—what changed?”

Deshret walked right in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. “Your current title as the Queen of Vahumana is mere empty words, but crowning you as the Queen of the Great Red Sand will attach much more weight to your name and will, to an extent, make you my equal. To ensure you are fully understanding of everything the position entails, including protocol, I will teach you myself.” Sticking out his hand, he summoned a ghostly version of the Staff of the Scarlet Sands. "Beginning with the polearm.”

Suddenly remembering why they had come out in the first place, Sharzad slowly nodded, and in a flash, Sunfire’s Scourge sat in her hands, its gilded shaft gleaming in the cool November daylight.

“Alright,” she said after taking a breath. “Let’s begin.”

NEW QUEST

Polearm Lesson One

Learn the basics of polearm combat from Deshret

Rewards: 10000 Mora, 20 Primogems, 500 Character EXP, Increased Proficiency in Polearm Combat

Chapter Text

QUEST

Power Problems

Remove your horns

Muscles burning from Deshret’s extensive training session, Sharzad teleported as close to Mondstadt as she could later that afternoon. It took a large amount of willpower not to drop down and lay in the grass for a bit, but considering Kaeya, Paimon, and Aether’s reaction to finding her in the grass the day before, Sharzad ultimately decided against collapsing into the grass.

Instead, she began the half-hour walk from the waypoint to the City of Mondstadt, thankfully arriving just as the sun began to set. Her legs felt like they were made of Jell-O for the entire journey, to the point where she had to use her arms to haul herself up the stairs to her room in the Falcon’s Nest, and as soon as her door was shut and locked, she collapsed onto the floor.

“You are never training me that hard again,” she groaned.

“I will because you need to develop greater endurance. Be glad I am adjusting the training to your physicality at all.”

Sharzad’s only reply was another groan.

“Still, I must admit you surprised me. I expected you to collapse from exhaustion before noon.” Deshret sat on the edge of her bed, watching her carefully, as if waiting for her to faint at any moment. “Yet you somehow managed to stay upright and internalise the more basic of my techniques.”

“Of course this was meant to exhaust me that much.”

“You are used to combat lasting less than five minutes in most circumstances. In a true battle, you will have no such luck. They are long and painful, and unless you are able to reserve and redistribute your energy, you will perish early on.”

“You say that, Amun, yet you disregard how quickly I ended fights.” Nabu Malikata sat next to Sharzad, running not-there fingers over her forearm. “It is quite easy when you understand the weaknesses of your enemy’s body.”

Deshret huffed. “Your techniques are horrifying even to someone like me, Nabu Malikata.”

This caught Sharzad’s attention. “What the fuck does that mean?” How could anything horrify Deshret? What sort of twisted torture could Nabu Malikata inflict on her enemies?

“Flowers can root anywhere when you are a goddess,” Nabu Malikata said carefully. “Including the lungs and the bloodstream.”

Sharzad furiously tried not to picture it. She failed.

“That’s—yeah no, I agree with Deshret.” Sitting up, she turned to stare at the goddess. “What the fuck Nabu?”

She shrugged. “I find it quite merciful. There is no long-lasting anguish, only a simple, painless death.” Nabu Malikata dragged her fingers across the carpet. “If it makes you feel better, I have seldom used this tactic, and when I have, it was either against Abyssal creatures or those who deserve it completely.”

“It’s still horrifying.”

“Perhaps to you, but I have witnessed much, much worse. To me, flowers sprouting in the place of enemies is a more appealing sight than the aftermath of a battle that drowns the land in blood and ash.”

Sharzad shuddered as Deshret stared at his lover, looking rather confused. “I do not drown anything in blood or ash, Nabu.”

“Only for my sake.” Nabu Malikata stood and walked over to sit, not next to Deshret, but right in his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for support. “But I remember how you were when I met you, Amun, how the early years of your conquest of the desert stained the sands with blood.”

“Is that why it’s called the Great Red Sand even if it’s not, you know, red?” Sharzad asked.

Deshret didn’t look at her when he replied, too busy gazing at his goddess instead. “No. The name comes from the colour of the rocks that form the cliff sides. I had nothing to do with the creation of its name.”

She blinked. “It’s that ancient?”

“On the contrary. The humans named it after me when I finally conquered it all: the Sands of Al-Ahmar. It was only called the Great Red Sand after my death.”

“So wait, how do you know . . . ?”

Deshret raised an eyebrow, but continued to ignore Sharzad in favour of running his hands through Nabu Malikata’s silken hair. “I am a god of knowledge. I need only a few moments to answer questions.”

Groaning, Sharzad collapsed on the floor again. “Oh, so you just know everything now?”

“It is impossible to know everything without going mad.”

“Yeah, but–”

Someone knocked on her door. “Hey, Sharzad, are you there?”

She sat up again. “Ae— Helios? I thought you were doing dragon things?”

Opening the door, she found Helios standing on the other side with Paimon floating next to him. His leaf-covered braid was falling apart in places, and his eyebrows downturned. Brown patches of dirt covered several spots on his skin and clothing, like he’d rolled on the ground. Maybe that was how his hair got so messy.

“No offence, but you look like shit. What happened?”

“Hey, that’s not very nice!” Paimon exclaimed indignantly.

“Just being observant.” Sharzad held the door open to let the pair enter her room. “Come in, you guys. We can talk a bit before going out for food.”

“Thanks,” Aether said. He walked in just far enough that Sharzad could close the door and no further. “Sharzad, I have to ask, about Venti . . .” he trailed off, looking unsure how to continue.

“They found out the truth about Barbatos,” Deshret supplied, looking rather bored.

Sharzad sighed. “So, you found out the truth about him, didn’t you?”

“Woah, you knew?!” Paimon exclaimed, flying right up into Sharzad’s face to stare at her.

“Yeah. That's why he broke into my room at sunrise yesterday.”

“But . . . how?”

How the fuck do I explain this without going too far into my backstory?

She contemplated this for a moment, before taking a breath. “To make a very, very long story short, I have what’s basically a massive divine magnet sewn into my soul. Said magnet draws any deity in my general vicinity to me, and doesn’t stop pulling until they make deals with me.” Sighing, she trailed her fingertips over her forearm, weaving a flowering vine around her flesh in the process. “Venti is not the first to sense me, and I seriously doubt he’ll be the last.”

“Oh, is that why the dragon targeted you?” Paimon asked.

“Yep.”

Aether’s brows furrowed. “Two days ago, you said something about making deals with gods, and how that’s where your powers come from.” He moved his hand forward as if he wanted to grasp Sharzad’s shoulder, but he withdrew before touching her. “Which—which ones? Can you talk to them?”

“Is this about your sister?”

Gaze downcast, he nodded.

Sharzad considered what to do for a moment, before turning to Deshret and Nabu Malikata. “Would either of you like to talk to him directly? It might be easier than having me as a middleman.”

“Paimon thinks she’s going a little crazy,” Paimon whispered way too loudly.

I most definitely am not. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Paimon.

“I’ll do it.” Nabu Malikata rolled off Deshret’s lap and walked to Sharzad’s side. “Are you sure about this?”

“I’d rather be direct than not.” She spread her arms wide in a gesture of permission. “Go for it.”

Within seconds, Nabu Malikata took over her body. “Alright, let’s make this quick. Sharzad’s body is quite exhausted as it is after her training earlier today.” She turned to look at Aether. “What questions do you have for me, Traveler?”

Paimon flew up to the goddess’ face. “You’re not Sharzad! Where is she?”

Nabu Malikata laughed. “No, I am not, Paimon. And do not worry about Sharzad, she is safe in her own mind. She’s given me permission to temporarily inhabit her body so that we may speak.” She turned to Aether. “My name is Nabu Malikata, and I am the Goddess of Flowers. Sharzad made a deal with me and my beloved two years ago, and we are the source of her powers. I ask again, Helios, what questions do you have for me?”

“Do you know a god called the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles?” Aether asked immediately.

Sharzad felt a burst of pure, unadulterated rage coming from Nabu Malikata, accompanied by the sudden weight of horns sprouting from her head and a low, animalistic growl that no human throat should be able to produce.

Fuck, not this again.

Aether’s eyes went wide. “You know them.”

“An understatement. The Sustainer of Heavenly Principles was among those responsible for the attempted genocide of my people.” Nabu Malikata narrowed her eyes. “What did she do to you?”

“My sister . . . she attacked the both of us when we tried to leave Teyvat, and when I woke up, my sister . . . and my powers were gone.”

“That bitch,” Nabu Malikata said in Deshreti. Switching back to common Teyvan, she began to pace, flexing her fingers, which were slowly growing claws. “When I get my chance, I will tear her eyeballs from her skull and grow thorns in her lungs until she can no longer breathe.”

Sharzad forced herself back into control, just barely catching herself as she tripped over her still-moving feet. Her head felt weighed down from the horns growing from her skull, and a glance at her hands showed claws that would no doubt take time to remove. “Nabu, what did I tell you about being horrifying?”

“Sharzad, you’re back!” Paimon flew towards her, circling her twice before returning to Aether’s side. “And you have horns! What just happened?! How did you do that?”

“The horns are a new side effect of possession, if we take yesterday seriously.” A wave of nausea passed over her. “Ugh, and that’s a normal one. I’m going to lie down. Hopefully I won’t get a nosebleed.” Head spinning, she took a step forward. Her leg promptly collapsed under her.

Aether, in a burst of Anemo-given speed, caught her before she hit the ground. Holding her up, he brought her to the bed, allowing her to lay down. “I’m sorry that I forced you to do that. It looks painful.”

After dragging a pillow under her head, Sharzad waved a hand dismissively. “You didn’t force me to do anything. Besides, this is probably–” she yawned. “–because Deshret trained me for basically six hours straight earlier today, and my body was already exhausted. Also, I’m not in pain, actually.” Yawning again, she forced herself to keep her eyes open for a few more seconds. “Everything’s fine. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay? I need to sleep.”

Before Aether could say anything else, Sharzad promptly fell unconscious.

~~~

She awoke to sunlight streaming into her room and an uncomfortable ache in her neck.

The cause of said ache became quite clear when she realised that the horns she’d sprouted yesterday were still attached to her head.

“Nabu?” she called, wincing at the panicked crack in her voice.

The goddess appeared at Sharzad’s side, watching her slowly sit up. “Yes, Sharzad—oh. The horns.”

“Yeah. The horns.” Reaching upwards, Sharzad experimentally ran her fingers across the rough surface, noticing in the process that she still had claws, too. “How can I get rid of them?”

“Visualisation? I’m not entirely certain, I’m afraid.”

She almost flung herself out of bed. “What?! These are your powers!”

“The horns are a part of me. I could always change my shape and conceal them, but it comes naturally because of what I am. I can’t . . . explain it, unfortunately.”

It took Sharzad several seconds to process this, seconds during which Deshret appeared to see what was going on.

The god-king eyed her horns, and then his gaze travelled downwards to the claws. “Ah. I must admit, I was not expecting such an outcome.”

“What, that they’d stay?”

“Yes. Perhaps I underestimated your body’s . . . receptiveness to Nabu’s power. I have to wonder, what else will you be able to do, especially once you make your deal with me?”

That was the most important thing to him right now? What she was capable of? Not her safety or comfort or whatever the fuck else?

Well, what was she expecting? Deshret was a god of knowledge after all. He’d literally died investigating Forbidden Knowledge. His curiosity knew no bounds, so of course he’d be more curious about Sharzad’s potential than about her safety. You know, because she wasn’t actively dying at the moment.

“Can we maybe get rid of the horns before we start talking about this stuff?” Sharzad huffed. “Yes, it’s a long overdue conversation, and we should have considered that Nabu’s powers would extend past simple control over her domains a while ago, but before we do any of that, I’d like to get rid of the foreign weight on my skull. My neck is starting to cramp.”

“You humans and your focus on the here and now.”

“Unlike you, I don’t have an infinite lifespan.”

“I am dead, mortal. That directly contradicts your point of an infinite lifespan.”

“You were over four thousand years old when you died. And you’re still here and talking to me, so I’d call that an infinite lifespan.” Sighing, she sat on her bed again. “Can you help me, Deshret? I promise—and I mean it this time—that once I get these horns off, we’ll talk.”

It was a point she had to get to sometime, and Mondstadt’s arc might be the only time in the foreseeable future Sharzad could simply speak with the desert’s king about everything. Her time in Vahumana had demonstrated just how little the mortal world actually knew about Deshret, and having him bound to her soul only made the fact more evident. Even just in the past three weeks, she had learned much more about the deity than over the greater part of two years. She had to learn more, and quickly, otherwise amending her deal with Deshret would be a questionable decision at best.

Besides, the aftermath of Dvalin’s attack still weighed on her mind, not to mention the knowledge of a potentially very destructive future for her home. She had needed too much help to survive much of the past week, and while she was grateful for it, she didn’t want to continue to depend on other people. Especially if that would mean them getting caught in the crossfire of future devastation.

Deshret stared at her, his blue and gold eyes wide open. “You are . . . seriously considering this?”

“I thought we made that clear yesterday?”

“Indeed, but I know you humans are fickle creatures. You might have changed your mind at the sight of your horns.”

She flexed her fingers, staring at the claws still replacing her fingertips. “They won’t be mine for much longer if we try to take care of them. Please, Deshret?”

She held his gaze for a long, long moment, after which he sighed out a long breath. “I cannot guarantee anything, mortal. You are still human: as Nabu said, this is not in your nature. You were not born with the ability to transform your appearance at will.”

“Then teach me how to do it. Both of you,” she added with a look at Nabu Malikata. “Tell me what to do and I’ll learn it. For everything, too. Not just this.”

“Sharzad, you were hesitant at best for two years,” Nabu said gently. “What changed? Why is the future weighing so heavily on your mind now of all times?”

Sharzad bit her lip. “I was too caught up in my Akademiya studies and trying to heal from–from the desert. The plot caught up to me.” Swallowing, she flexed her fingers again. “I’ve been reluctant for two years, but we know I shouldn’t have been. I should have been better prepared to face Dvalin, and Diluc, and that Ascension Domain. I should have been aware of these–” she gestured at the horns. “–years ago. But I ignored them and I ignored you, Deshret, when all you wanted was a shot at saving your people. I can’t imagine–what the people of the desert actually live through, if the aftermath of Dvalin’s attack made me feel so helpless–”

Her eyes were starting to sting, and she drew her knees up towards her chest to give herself a place to hide her face. The weight of the horns on her head dragged her head downwards towards the top of her knees, until her eyes were closed and she couldn’t see the morning sunlight anymore.

“Sharzad,” Nabu began.

Unfortunately, Sharzad kept talking. Her mouth was on autopilot now, spilling her thoughts aloud with no filter whatsoever. “–what about the Eremites, right? Technically, I’m one of them too, like Cyno, since we’re both from the desert. So you’d expect me to care, except I was too selfish to notice because of what was going on with me–”

“Sharzad, take a breath. We can talk through this when–"

“–even though the future’s considerably scarier than whatever the fuck my PTSD was doing, so I should have been training nonstop instead of earning Dastur status. And for what? I’m already the Queen of Vahumana, I have all the prestige and influence I want in the Akademiya–”

Deshret joined in the protests for her to stop. “That is an empty title you have openly acknowledged you did not want.”

“–but I should have been focusing on the desert more. We cleaned up only one of the temples and both of you have told me that there are several hundred more at least, but because of the side-effects of possession I said no and ignored all aspects of my power–”

“Sharzad. Enough.”

The sheer force with which Deshret said her name was enough to interrupt the panicked flow of her words. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she raised her head to stare at him.

“You said my name.”

Deshret held her gaze for a moment. He looked . . . sad wasn’t the right word for it. Concerned, or pitiful, perhaps? He wasn’t frowning at her, but there was something about his expression that made guilt, shame, and discomfort mix in her chest.

“Look at the state of this room, Sharzad.” Deshret gestured at the plant life overtaking every available space, to the point where barely any sunlight could enter the room due to the sheer amount of foliage blocking the window. “This is not an environment conducive to learning.”

She continued to stare at him. “You said my name. I–I thought–”

“Would it help if he continued to refer to you as ‘mortal’?” Nabu asked softly. “You’re hovering on the brink of a panic attack.”

Was she? She wasn’t entirely sure.

What was I even saying a few moments ago? She was only aware of a feeling of pressing guilt, of a sinking feeling in her chest and the sensation of tears on her face, of a need to break into shaking sobs and stay in bed for the rest of the day.

“I–no–I–” she swallowed. “Just get these horns off me. Please.”

She shifted on the bed as the two gods joined her, sitting cross-legged in front of her. Taking this as a sign, she copied their movement.

“Neither of us knows how to coach you through this,” Nabu reminded her. “But we will do our best to help, alright?”

Sharzad sighed. “I suppose I can’t really ask for more, can I?”

“No,” Deshret agreed. “Let’s begin by removing the plant life in your room. This isn’t a greenhouse.”

~~~

From the top of Mondstadt’s walls, Diluc watched the small party of adventurers disappear down the path to Stormterror’s Lair. He kept a careful eye on Kaeya, whom he had rarely seen leave the city without a horse at his side.

Even with the general lack of horses available to the Knights of Favonius, Kaeya was still its Cavalry Captain, and Diluc knew that he generally felt more comfortable on a horse than without one. To see him leave the city without one likely meant that he was concerned about the horses’ lives, and considering who was with him—Jean, the Traveler, the bard Venti (why was he leaving with a bard?! Even if Diluc was quite certain Venti had something quite important to hide)—Kaeya was probably seeking out the dragon.

Torn between staying to guard the city and following his brother, if their relationship was even solid enough to call them that anymore, Diluc remained on top of the walls for a long, long while, mulling over the interrogation of the Abyss Mage and the subsequent . . . encounter with a goddess.

Sharzad had, of course, been kind enough to escort him back to the winery, answering any question he dared to ask with a calm, even tone, as if he hadn’t threatened her life minutes earlier. Yes, the goddess was Nabu Malikata. The second god was Deshret, the Sumeru desert’s former king. No, they did not possess her often, only when she was in extreme danger or needed guidance to use their abilities. Yes, this was the source of her powers. No, she did not have a Delusion and yes she knew what those were.

After ensuring he’d be alright, she had turned and left without another word, and when Kaeya showed up at the Angel’s Share for a drink late that evening, he offhandedly mentioned that he’d seen her covered in blood and lying in the grass from exhaustion. Apparently, this strange, adventurous child had decided that the morning’s activities weren’t enough and went to fight monsters in a domain.

Diluc certainly hoped he’d never have to meet her fathers, for the sole reason that if that teenager was insane, her parents had to be, too. But in the case that he might one day, he sent a letter to one of his merchants stationed in Sumeru in the hopes that he might be able to find something about her parents.

The goddess had been kind enough to tell him her full name, after all, and he intended to pursue that lead.

He kept his watch for a few more minutes, using his Vision to infuse the air directly around him with enough heat to keep the cold out of his clothing. The Abyss Mage’s warning of an attack coming when Mondstadt was defenceless surely meant that it would be today. If the Abyss Order was watching Mond (and Diluc was quite certain that they were), they would see the little party of knights and adventurers leave and assume that Mondstadt was ripe for the taking.

Sighing, Diluc left the wall and descended towards the Angel’s Share. It would be more productive to wait there and get some accounts done for the winery than to stand guard all day. The Abyss Order might have been waiting for nightfall.

To be safe, he sent Kaspar, one of the usual cooking staff and a trusted member of his information network, out to run errands in the city, knowing that he’d return with news at the first sign of trouble. Then, he busied himself with a small stack of financial reports from his associates in Liyue Harbor, detailing the sale of wine to merchants setting off for Natlan.

Unfortunately for his business, Inazuma’s lucrative trade had dwindled completely due to the Sakoku Decree, and so Diluc had been importing more of his wine stores to the nations in the west to compensate for the loss. Before Inazuma’s borders shut, he had already ordered for trade with Snezhnayan merchants to cease, so now he was missing another source of income in addition to the market from Fatui officials like the Harbingers.

A knock at his door roused him from his work. “Enter.”

It was Kaspar. Eyes wide and chest heaving, he stumbled into the room, supporting himself on the table pressed up against the nearest wall. “Master Diluc, it’s the Abyss–there’s a massive force gathering near the bridge, and they’re advancing on Springvale–”

Diluc stood, just barely avoiding a wince at the sound of his chair grating against the wooden floor. “I’ve heard enough. Stay here and ensure the tavern and its surroundings stay safe. I’ll go see what’s going on.”

He didn’t wait for Kaspar’s reply, instead setting off for the wall again.

From the viewpoint at the top of the stone, he had a clear view of the horde of hilichurls swarming the far end of the bridge to Mondstadt. A few glowing points around them was no doubt a series of Abyss Mages, which was a concern to say the least. If the hilichurls had more intelligent life-forms leading them, they’d be more organised, and likely much harder to defeat.

At the other end of the bridge, at the city gates, Diluc could see several Knights of Favonius, all of them guards, gathering in a circle, clearly unsure of what to do next.

Inefficient , he thought scathingly, before leaping off the wall and gliding to the ground.

“Master Diluc!”

Oh, it seemed some of their Vision-bearers were here after all. Indeed, Diluc recognized Lisa, Noelle, Sucrose, and Eula. Just the four of them.

“You are poorly equipped to handle this threat,” he said without preamble. “Four Vision-bearers only?”

“We sent a knight to ask the Adventurers’ Guild for help, and Amber’s on her way to find Sharzad,” Lisa said calmly. “They’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”

“That child isn’t a knight. She should not be anywhere near danger.”

As if on cue, the crowd of knights parted slightly, revealing Amber and, next to her, Sharzad.

Her golden gaze was clearly determined, and she held her head high (although perhaps that had to do with the weight of the horns sprouting from her head more than anything else). “Yeah? Well, unfortunately, Master Diluc, I’ll be quite close to danger today. Hope you don’t mind.”

Chapter Text

QUEST

Abyssal Siege

Defeat the Abyss Order forces and protect the city

She had been deep in meditation when a sharp knock at her door broke her concentration.

“Sharzad?” the voice was muffled, but it was tight with concern. Another short knock. “It’s Amber, from the Knights of Favonius. Lisa sent me to get you.”

Reaching up to her head, Sharzad found that the horns stubbornly remained in their place on her skull. At least she’d gotten rid of the claws and the foliage in her room, so it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. The horns still sucked though, an unfamiliar weight on her head that made her neck ache if she didn’t lie down every few hours.

She opened the door to let the Outrider in. “What’s going on?”

Poor Amber seemed to have lost all train of thought at the sight of the horns and the fact that Sharzad was still in her sleepwear. Oh, right. She probably looked quite insane at the moment. At least she had taken the time to brush her hair and rinse her face earlier, so she didn’t entirely look like she had just stumbled out of bed.

Wide-eyed, Amber stared at her with concern and some semblance of awkwardness permeating her expression. “I um—did you know–?” she gestured vaguely upwards as she walked into the room.

Sighing, Sharzad shut the door behind Amber. “Yes, I have horns. We’re not going to talk about it.”

There was a very pregnant pause.

Amber fiddled with the edge of her sleeve. “The Abyss is attacking, and Lisa sent me to get you so you can join the rest of the Knights.”

Shit. Sharzad instantly turned away from Amber and began rifling through the wardrobe for the first battle-worthy items of clothing she could find, along with underwear because she was still in her pyjamas.

“I’m not a Knight of Favonius.”

“What—Sharzad, please, we need all the help we can get–”

“Relax, that wasn’t a no. Just a correction: I’m not a Knight, nor would I expect to be one.”

She wandered into the bathroom, closing the door almost all the way so she could change into her clothes while still speaking with Amber.

“Jean might make you an honorary one after this is all over!”

“Please don’t. My fathers might actually have heart attacks if that happens.”

Amber fell silent for a moment. “It’s a great honour though.”

Sharzad started to button her shirt. “An honour earned in danger.”

“You’re an adventurer, aren’t you?” The lilt to the Outrider’s voice made her confusion clear. “Wouldn’t your fathers expect you to be in danger?”

“They’re a little overprotective, that’s all. In their defence, a bunch of traumatic stuff happened to me a few years ago, so the concern is justified.”

A long, long silence was punctuated by the rustle of Sharzad’s pants, and then by the metallic click of the clasp on her golden-yellow cape as she secured it on her shoulders. 

Deshret phased through the wall, and after a single pause, eyed her entire ensemble with disdain. “We will have to discuss battle armour. This is far too casual for any sort of royalty.”

Sharzad had the sense to mumble her next words in Deshreti. “I know, Deshret. But let’s take care of my deal first. We haven’t had a chance to discuss what I’ll be borrowing from you.”

“Perhaps we should have.” Deshret watched her tie her hair behind her head. “I do not want you to make a rash deal in the middle of the battle because you did not adequately prepare.”

Huffing, Sharzad left the bathroom to search for her boots. “Where are we gathering?” she asked as she pulled them on.

“The front gates of the city. All civilians are being sent to the Cathedral so they stay safe.”

“Cool. I’m ready.” She snatched her keys from the desk and not-so-gently coaxed Amber out of the room. After locking the door, she tucked the keys in her inventory so they wouldn’t go missing. “Let’s go.”

They set out for the main gates together. Sharzad watched as Mondstadtians of all kinds, from the elderly to young children, raced in the opposite direction of the entrance, towards the Cathedral. Facial expressions ranged from panicked to confused, the latter often present on the faces of the youngest children innocently asking their parents why they were going to church on a day other than Sunday.

Oh sweet Rukkhadevata, that’s horrifying. They’re so small.

The streets quieted as they neared the gates, and eventually, all that was left was an assembly of armoured members of the Favonius Guard, gathered around a small group of people.

Lisa’s voice carried over the mostly silent crowd. “We sent a knight to ask the Adventurers’ Guild for help, and Amber’s on her way to find Sharzad. They’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”

“That child isn’t a knight. She should not be anywhere near danger.”

Sharzad easily recognised Diluc’s voice, especially considering what he was telling Lisa. Scoffing under her breath, she kept walking towards the knights, watching them part to allow her and Amber to approach the people gathered at the front of the crowd, in a position where they could see the other end of the bridge.

She focused on Diluc before anyone else, holding her head high (partly because if she leaned too far forward the weight of the horns would drag her head towards the ground). “Yeah? Well, unfortunately, Master Diluc, I’ll be quite close to danger today. Hope you don’t mind.”

Before he could reply, she turned her attention to the rest of the people at the front of the crowd, focusing especially on the ones wearing clothing other than the standard-issue Knights of Favonius armour.

Eula. Noelle. Sucrose. Lisa.

“Who’s this, Lisa?” Sharzad asked, looking at the (technically) strangers with interest.

Eula didn’t let Lisa speak, instead stepping forward with the slightest bow. Like many of the other playable characters Sharzad had met, she wore her in-game outfit, complete with what appeared to be a black leotard and thigh-high boots (which, to be honest, couldn’t be all that useful in combat, but whatever). Sharzad couldn’t see her claymore, but she figured it was close by.

“Captain Eula Lawrence, Spindrift Knight, Knights of Favonius Reconnaissance Company. I extend to you my greetings.”

Taking a cue from the Cryo Vision bearer’s words, Sharzad gave her own little bow. “Sharzad Athari Taftazani, Dastur of the Vahumana. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You keep forgoing your titles.”

If I introduced myself as the Queen of Vahumana, I would have a panic attack, and if I introduced myself as the Envoy of the Scorned Gods or as your heir, I would either cause a panic or be thought of as insane, Deshret, Sharzad thought scathingly.

It wasn’t as satisfying as verbally responding, but at least it quelled the worst of the instinct to snap at the god-king.

“These are Noelle and Sucrose.” Gesturing sideways, Lisa singled out the pale-haired maid and the turquoise-haired alchemist. The former seemed to be about Sharzad’s age, and Sucrose was perhaps in her early twenties. “Noelle is an apprentice knight and one of the Knights of Favonius’ maid. Sucrose is the assistant alchemist to Albedo.”

“Where’s he?” Sharzad asked.

“In the mountains of Dragonspine. He’ll be back sometime later this week.”

“Dragonspine? He must be a pretty chill guy.”

Dead silence.

Cyno would’ve loved that.

The look Lisa sent her was the type one might use to regard a particularly stubborn dirt stain. “Cyno’s taught you well, I see.”

Sharzad simply shrugged. “Eh. So what’s the plan? I’m willing to bet that army’s not going to sit around and wait for–”

As if on cue, the army on the other side of the bridge let out a cry of sorts, and then the hilichurls charged. Of course, the bridge was very long, long enough for Mondstadt’s defenders to have sufficient warning of the charge.

Eula snapped into action, her voice ringing out over the soldiers at her command. “Lisa and Noelle, divide the guard into two groups. One will stay with you to guard the city walls, the other will fight the army. Once the reinforcements from the Adventurers’ Guild arrive, close the city gates immediately, and ensure the other gates are shut as well.” Turning from the guards, she held her hand out, summoning her claymore in one hand (Sharzad would have laughed at its similar appearance to Freedom-Sworn if it wasn’t such a serious situation). “The rest of you, with me.”

Without warning, both she and Diluc raced forward to meet the Abyss Order’s forces, Amber close on their heels.

“What are you waiting for, Sharzad?” Deshret asked Sharzad, who hadn’t yet moved from the front of the crowd of defenders. “Still concerned with the hilichurls’ nature?”

No. Not when they’re attacking Mondstadt.

She summoned Light of Foliar Incision in response and, after a breath, she began walking forward, taking the moment to bring up the System’s settings so she could turn on the battle music.

“You should be fighting, not wasting your time on such frivolous things!”

“This will help me stay motivated to fight, Deshret. Now either shut up or help me. This is the first battle I will fight with real-world consequences, and I want minimal casualties.”

As she charged, Nabu Malikata gave her one last warning. “Be careful!”

By some miracle, Sharzad actually managed to laugh at that. “I’m always careful! Reflection of the Scribe.”

In a burst of Dendro energy, she leapt into the fray, and was immediately lost to the sounds and sensations of battle, the carnage accompanied by the notes of one of Mondstadt’s battle themes.

The hilichurls moved past her gaze in a chaotic mess of bodies, the individual lost amidst the army of beasts. Smaller ones wielding flaming clubs flashed orange between the browns and greys, much like the mitachurls holding shields of pure yellow Geo and axes glowing with red Pyro energy. Their yells pierced the air, distorting the melody of the theme with the sounds of pain, of anger, of battle cries and grunts and everything in between. Blood splattered on the ground, and soon the air was tinged with the smell of iron and burning flesh as Diluc and Amber cut through the ranks from close up and afar.

Sharzad wasn’t entirely aware of her own movements in the midst of the chaos, choosing instead to focus on individual enemies and cutting them down, one by one, as quickly as possible. Her strategy was designed with the goal of simplicity and easy: blows to the neck, to the chest, to places where there were weak points; barriers of vines and thorns to isolate small groups of the run-of-the-mill hilichurls, which could be killed much easier than the other beasts present; and the constant reuse of her familial perks and skills, to ensure she was well-prepared to face the assault. Deshret and Nabu Malikata called out warnings, suggestions, and updates on the other combatants’ statuses, their voices providing respite from the throes of battle.

“Duck now!”

A flash of purple filled her vision. The smell of ozone filled the air as lightning crackled around an arrow embedded in a hilichurl’s neck. It collapsed, spasming from the Electro coursing through its body.

“Nabu, where did that come from?!”

“A girl with a bow and a bird made of Electro energy.”

Fischl.

Sharzad slashed her sword in front of her, summoning a long, thick branch that cut a large arc through the enemies in front of her, which sent them tumbling to the ground. “Reinforcements,” she panted. “From the Adventurers’ Guild. Where is everyone?”

“Eula and Amber are pushing their way through the forces to the east, and Diluc has somehow managed to cut his way close to a small gathering of mages. There are soldiers holding the main bridge, along with three new allogenes—Electro, Pyro, Cryo.”

“Describe them, please! Besides the Electro one!” Leaping forward, she stabbed her sword directly through a Hydro samachurl. It dissolved into nothing nearly immediately. “Quickly!”

“The Pyro wielder is a boy with pale hair and a sword. The Cryo wielder is a . . . nun of some kind with a spear.”

Bennett and Rosaria.

“Do you know of them?”

“Yes and no. This isn’t the time— agh!”

A searing pain in her leg. The feeling of cold seeping into her skin. A flash of pale blue as a cackling Cryo Abyss mage appeared a few metres away from where she nearly collapsed.

Shit. Dendro doesn’t react with Cryo!

She stumbled back, barely resisting the instinct to whine at the pain in her thigh. The Cryo mage gave another cackle before vanishing.

“Behind you!”

Panicking slightly, Sharzad willed a large, flowering bush into existence between herself and the Cryo mage. “Where’s the nearest Pyro user?!” she asked, doing her best not to sound excessively panicked.

“It’s Diluc!"

Stumbling slightly due to the pain in her leg, she slashed a hilichurl’s face, cleaving right through its mask. She took a step forward and sliced a large gash in its neck. It didn’t even have time to bleed before it disintegrated.

Oh, she hadn’t even noticed—it seemed hilichurls died faster if she hit at the biological weak points. Strange how she hadn’t realised this earlier.

“How far?”

“See the flashes of fire to your right?”

The Cryo mage appeared right in front of her again. Swearing under her breath, Sharzad gave herself no time to think, instead sprinting as fast as she could across the battlefield.

She tripped over the charred corpses of hilichurls and mitachurls, barely dodging the occasional volley of arrows or blast of Cryo as the mage continued its pursuit. Every other breath had her gagging from the smell of burning flesh and grass, and of the blood spilling on the earth below. Somehow, the sounds of the battle had faded so far into the background that Sharzad almost forgot the scale of the conflict. The battle music was louder in her ears than any other sound in the vicinity.

She found Diluc at the edge of the crowd, facing a creature she had never seen before (in this life, anyway).

But she had seen it in her previous life. She recognized the tall stature, the black armour littered with glowing blue energy, the horned helmet and the faceless head. Blue swords, probably made of Hydro energy, extended from its two gauntlets, sharp, pointed, deadly.

Diluc slashed at it, but the creature still retained most of its health. He stumbled backwards as the creature unleashed a cross-shaped blow of Hydro energy directly at him, too fast for him to dodge.

“An Abyss Herald,” Deshret hissed, hatred seeping into his voice. Out of the corner of her eye, Sharzad watched talons form on his fingertips.

“Well, that’s fucking fantastic.” She opened her inventory and selected a healing dish, sighing in relief as the wound in her leg vanished.

“Sharzad, you will not survive if you fight it. You are not ready.”

“Deshret, he’s going to die otherwise.”

“Sharzad no–”

She raised her voice above the din of battle, rushing forward to place herself between Diluc and the herald. “Hey Diluc! Is this ugly fuck the leader?” She whipped a branch around one of the Abyss Herald’s wrists and yanked it backwards, drawing the creature’s blade away from Diluc’s face.

It seemed to take Diluc a second to process what was going on. Sharzad wrapped a vine around the herald’s other arm to yank it further when it snapped the first one in half.

“I believe so,” Diluc finally said. “It has not spoken much, however.”

He hadn’t even finished speaking when the Abyss Herald spoke in a rasping voice: “Decimate!”

How wonderfully dramatic of it.

“Cool, so the rest will back off if this one dies?” she leapt sideways as the herald slashed a blade of Hydro in her direction. “Reflection of the Scribe.” A Chisel-Light Mirror burst into existence. Sharzad dashed forward, landing three Dendro-infused blows on the herald before it kicked her stomach. She flew back, landing three feet from Diluc’s side with what was probably several bruises on her left side.

“There’s a Cryo mage not too far off,” she panted as she stumbled to her feet. “Take care of it for me, will you?”

“Sharzad, this is a terrible idea,” Nabu Malikata warned (Diluc appeared to be in the middle of a very lengthy mental debate).

“I know, Nabu. I also don’t care.” She adjusted her grip on her sword and dashed sideways as the herald attempted another attack. “I’m going to keep fighting this thing until it’s dead. Then–” her breath caught in her throat as she narrowly avoided the herald’s spinning form, which resembled a water-wheel of sorts. “–then the forces might back off for good. Architect’s Scion.”

She watched the distance between herself and the Abyss Herald close, waiting until it was just close enough before grabbing its legs with more plants, halting it just long enough for her to attempt to chop off its arm.

Unfortunately, she only managed to dent its armour and take off a negligible amount of its health. How strong was this thing?

“You might have been right, both of you.”

“So now you acknowledge this?”

“Deshret, this is not the time—OW!”

She instinctively reached for her arm, hissing out a breath as she made contact with the new wound the herald had slashed open. Sweet Archons that hurt.

Oh, and her health dropped about a third from the impact. What the actual fuck.

“Okay, so we might have a problem.”

Nabu’s voice echoed across the battlefield as Sharzad dodged yet another attack. “YOU MIGHT?!”

Between dodging the herald’s attacks, Sharzad contemplated what to do. The herald was clearly too strong for her, especially considering how exhausted she already was. She wasn’t aware of everything going on with the army, but she was certain that there were still quite a lot of hilichurls and not enough soldiers to adequately defend the city for much longer. When she managed to glance in Diluc’s direction, she found him fighting any creature that got too close to Sharzad and the herald, giving her just enough space to fight without distraction.

But it wouldn’t be enough. She couldn’t keep up the duel with the herald for much longer. This had to end, and fast, or else Mondstadt would end up burning by nightfall. And there was one, very easy to obtain, solution to this problem.

Jumping back from attacking the herald, Sharzad raised her voice. “Hey, Deshret?”

“Sharzad. What are you planning?”

“Remember the conversation we had this morning? About maybe talking through a deal?”

The herald attacked again. Sharzad just barely dodged a stab to the leg.

“You cannot be serious. This is a battlefield. I warned you about this.”

“I made a mistake. Besides, these are desperate times, buddy.”

Deshret, surprisingly, didn’t react to her calling him buddy, but maybe it was the preexisting shock of Sharzad’s (admittedly kind of reckless) suggestion. “We have not yet spoken about what I will give you.”

“Then make it–” she paused to wrap a vine around the herald’s neck and yank backwards, stopping its advance for a precious moment. “–temporary. Until the battle ends. I just need enough power to kill this thing.”

“It might kill you!”

“I am in complete agreement with Amun, Sharzad,” Nabu Malikata added. “This is too dangerous, even for you.”

Sharzad threw up a wall of sunflowers to shield herself from the herald’s next set of attacks. She wouldn’t be able to dodge for much longer, if the stabbing cramp in her side meant anything. A few more minutes of this and she would risk a nosebleed or fainting. “Possession will likely kill me, considering how exhausted I am. So either we make the deal, or I risk dying another time.”

Deshret didn’t answer her for a while. Long enough for Sharzad to bust out another attack at the herald, which only succeeded at taking its health down to the halfway point. Diluc had taken care of most of the loss, and unfortunately, Sharzad still had a long, long way to go.

Then, as the herald spun in a water-wheel attack, the Scarlet King finally spoke again. “What do you need from me?”

“Anything useful! You’ve faced more of these than me—whatever helped you in your last battle against one!”

Silence once again. Then the brand on her wrist, the one she usually forgot about because the sight of it had become as normal as breathing to her, began to pulse with a burning, searing heat. The feeling spread to the rest of her body as Deshret spoke.

“Do you, Sharzad Athari Taftazani, accept the terms of this bargain? That until the end of this battle against the foes of Mondstadt, you will wield my complete authority over the sands, in exchange for the guaranteed promise that we will revisit this deal in the near future so you might become my heir?”

Sharzad winced as the burning sensation reached a peak. “Yes, absolutely!”

“So you have said it, so it shall be.”

The burning heat in her veins bloomed into the warmth of pure sunlight.

For a moment, the world came into sharper focus. For a moment, Sharzad felt as if every molecule surrounding her—even the soil under her feet—was supercharged. For a moment, she was back in the pyramid, in the tomb under the sands, body brimming with divine energy for the first time in her life.

For a moment, despite the pulsing energy and the rush of the battle around her, she felt utterly and completely at home, like she was back in Sumeru, exploring the desert’s sands.

Remaining silent, she dodged the herald’s next attack, and then, with a wave of her hand, summoned a massive pile of sand, a churning sandpit that buried the creature up to its neck. It struggled, sending waves of sand tumbling down, only for Sharzad to drag it back into the whirlpool again.

When she spoke, this time in Primordial, her voice came out as the echo of thousands of years lived, an auditory representation of the new—albeit temporary—power flowing through her veins: “Tell me this, herald. If I kill you where you stand, will your troops be called off, or will I have to fight them, too?”

“The mages will command them even when I am gone. Resistance is futile against the might of the Abyss.”

“I suppose I will have to take care of them too.” She raised her sword, willing a gap to form in the sands. It exposed the Abyss Herald’s chest, and she lightly touched the tip of her blade to the glowing circle in the centre of its torso. “How troublesome.”

She mustered as much force as she could, before driving her sword as deeply as it would go into the creature. The circular thing (a pearl, perhaps?) in the creature’s chest splintered and cracked, before eventually dissolving completely, leaving a gaping hole in the herald’s chest and–

It vanished in a cloud of light particles. Sharzad dropped her sword immediately, watching the sand collapse inwards where the herald had been seconds earlier. Her mind felt sluggish, thoughts moving too slowly to truly react to anything, even the raw power still coursing through her veins.

She called out to Diluc, still staring at the sand in front of her. “It’s dead!”

“He’s a little busy, Sharzad.”

“Oh?”

A turn of her head showed what Nabu Malikata meant: Diluc had disappeared.

Or, more specifically, he was halfway through the Abyss army’s thinning ranks, if the burst of phoenix-shaped flame meant anything. It seemed like he was trying to force the monsters to retreat, even though at least half of them were doing so already under the apparent urging of the remaining Abyss Mages. Still, no less than a hundred hilichurls (with accompanying Abyss Mages) continued the assault on Mondstadt anyway.

The herald was dead, but the battle clearly wasn’t over yet.

Chapter Text

QUEST

Ending Note

Recover at the Cathedral

Aether returned to Mondstadt with the impression that he and Paimon would find Sharzad and tell her everything about the confrontation with Dvalin. Jean even promised that she’d give them Mora for their efforts, and he wanted to at least pay for Sharzad’s dinner so he could start to pay her back for the amount of Mora she spent on him and Paimon.

He was not expecting to find a desertful of sand outside the city of Mondstadt, along with an absurd amount of monster corpses and quite a lot of blood staining the ground. Kaeya, who was the only member of their little adventuring group to return to Mondstadt with Aether, found out from a nearby guard that the Abyss had besieged the city.

Now, Aether couldn’t say that he knew Sharzad well, but considering her usual declarations that trouble always found her, he figured that she was involved in the battle. And unfortunately, this guess was correct, because they found Sharzad being tended to by a nun in the Mondstadt Cathedral.

“What . . . happened to her?”

They had laid her unconscious body on one of the wooden pews, and bandaged several areas of her arms, legs, and torso. Dark stains (probably blood) covered so much of her clothing that Aether could barely make out the actual colours of the garments. The horns from the previous night, which still sprouted from between light brown locks, were not enough to draw attention away from the bruises and cuts on her face. She looked at peace, but there was something about the tenseness of the nun tending to her that made his heart heavy with worry.

“She’s alive, if that’s what’s concerning you.”

“Diluc!” Paimon exclaimed.

He, too, looked rather exhausted, a large bruise and several cuts visible on his face and neck. His clothes concealed any other injuries, and they seemed too clean to be from the battle, so he probably changed at some point. If the documents he perused meant anything, he had even gone home to Dawn Winery in order to change.

How long ago did the battle take place? Aether and Paimon were out of Mondstadt for less than a day!

“You seem worse for wear,” Kaeya commented. “Have you even rested, Master Diluc, or did you spontaneously develop concern for her?”

Diluc’s face twitched into a deeper frown. “I am merely ensuring she isn’t hounded by knights until she recovers.”

“Oh, so you do care?”

The nun walked away from Sharzad to tend to a few heavily bandaged Knights of Favonius. Aether took the opportunity to get closer to the unconscious girl.

“Even I am not so heartless as to leave an injured child alone, Sir Kaeya.”

“Hmm, strange. She isn’t alone, though, considering she is being tended to by Sister Grace, and was no doubt tended to by Sister Barbara earlier on.”

Aether saw Sharzad slowly open her eyes. He stared at her, and she stared back, before winking at him and closing her eyes again. Slowly, she began sitting up.

“I don’t trust her not to get into more trouble.”

“You don’t trust anyone, do you, Master Diluc?”

“Shut the fuck up, both of you.”

Kaeya and Diluc jumped. They’d been too distracted by each other to notice Sharzad sitting up and staring at them with a look of pure disappointment. Even without being the focus of her attention, Aether felt his stomach drop, because that look was familiar. It was a look Lumine used to give him whenever he did something stupid.

“Stop arguing, and put those documents down, Diluc. The battle was what, five hours ago, and you’re already back to work? Do you even know what a break is?!” She sat up further, until she was sitting upright, back supported by the pew. Reaching up, she touched the skin under her nose before withdrawing her hand. “Oh cool, my nosebleed stopped.”

That was a concerning statement, not that anybody pointed it out.

Kaeya chuckled. “No, I don’t believe he does. You know, he was the Cavalry Captain before me and–”

“Do not,” Diluc hissed.

Aether watched Sharzad pull a round pastry-looking thing out of thin air and bite into it. Half of the bruises on her face vanished immediately.

What the fuck? Where did she get the pastry? How is it healing her? What the fuck?

“–he stayed at Headquarters late so many times that Grandmaster Varka had to lock him in his own home to ensure he would get some sleep!”

Aether could have sworn he saw the air around Diluc ripple like it might in the middle of summer. “Kaeya!”

Another voice entered the fray. “Sharzad!”

Said girl jumped out of her seat as if she hadn’t been basically comatose five minutes earlier. “Venti. And Jean, hi. How’s Headquarters?”

“Recovering. We’re taking stock of the casualties at the moment.” Jean took a step closer to Sharzad. “I wished to thank you—Eula told me everything you did, including defeating the herald and trapping much of the remaining army in sand so the knights could deal with them. Hundreds of lives might have been lost had it not been for you. Please accept the title of Honorary Knight as a token of our gratitude.”

Aether had received the title earlier that day, once Dvalin was purified and the crisis resolved. It seemed like it was common to offer such a title to people who did heroic deeds in this world. How interesting.

Sharzad hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking sideways before returning to Jean. “You’re welcome. I—how many Knights . . . ?”

“Eleven members of the guard have been confirmed dead. But there are several more with critical injuries. Some might not be able to fight ever again.”

Sharzad bowed her head. “Let’s hope the healers are enough to save those still alive.”

“This was a coordinated attack,” Diluc said sharply. “Planned around your departure, Acting Grandmaster. At least tell me you took care of Stormterror?”

“No worries, my friend. Dvalin is fully healed!” Venti pulled out the Lyre (heavily destroyed as it was). “We just came here to return the Holy Lyre, but it’s a happy coincidence that we ran into you all!” He leaned forward, twin braids waving from the movement. “I see you’re healing well, Sharzad.”

“Yep. All thanks to the nuns.”

She took another bite of that strange pastry and peeled off one of her bandages, revealing pristine skin instead of what had probably been a large cut.

Yeah right, “all thanks to the nuns.” What was her secret? Had she baked spells into those pastries? Could they heal other people? Were they normal in this world?

No one else seemed as intrigued by this as Aether was.

Paimon, of course, noticed something else: “Shouldn’t you leave the bandages on?”

“They’re uncomfortable. And I’m healed.”

“Didn’t you say it’s only been five hours? Do people from Sumeru heal that fast?”

Sharzad continued to remove her bandages, displaying more and more pristine skin. “I do.” She yawned. “Still gonna need more sleep though. Like you,” she added, jabbing her finger into Diluc’s arm. “You are going to put those papers down and rest or I will generate several species of flora and fungi guaranteed to send you to sleep for days.” Turning to Venti, she asked, “Alright, so where’s the person the Lyre needs to go to? Let’s make this quick.”

~~~

She knew there was shit about to go down when Venti rushed out of the Cathedral, and being someone with vague recollections of what was supposed to come next, Sharzad followed the bard outside.

Aether and Paimon stayed with her, too, and she had the sense that the rest of the Mondstadt squad (that is, Kaeya, Diluc, and Jean) wouldn’t be far behind.

They were just in time, too, as just when they passed through the Cathedral doors, two Fatui Pyro agents materialised from the ground and leapt towards Venti, who had his back turned.

Aether was the one to move first, leaping forward to blast the two attackers away with Anemo. Sharzad, wanting to take stock of the situation before making a move, pressed her back against the wall and tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.

Music filled the air, a rough cacophony of strings and drums signalling that this was a cutscene. That this was important.

She watched as icy air blasted Aether backwards, trapping poor Paimon in a block of ice in the process. Venti generated a large circle of wind to defend himself, only for his legs to start freezing over with a coat of white-blue ice.

Oh. Right. It’s Signora.

Said Harbinger walked forward, her entrance accompanied by the chants of an unseen chorus and a little red sign that proclaimed her as La Signora, the Fair Lady, the Eighth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Her heels clacked ominously on the stone pavement, unimpeded by the sheer length of her dress (Sharzad would have tripped the second she tried walking in that ensemble).

“At last, Mondstadt's rodent ruler in the flesh. Scurrying through the streets, looking for leftovers . . .  Mondstadt calls this a god?” Upon reaching Venti, Signora reached forward and roughly grasped his chin.

Sharzad bit her tongue to keep from speaking. Wasn’t Signora from Mondstadt? So wouldn’t Venti be her god? Right?

“Resident rodent beats invasive— vermin–”

Venti cut off with a groan, breath knocked out of him by Signora slapping his face. Sharzad took the opportunity to summon a flowering plant with a thick, thorn-covered stem—known as a crown of thorns—around the harbinger’s arm, snaking it as high and as tight as she could. Due to the battle hours earlier (probably), she could already feel her strength sapping. This had to end, and fast.

She stepped out of the shadows, uncaring whether her voice came out as divine or not.

“Let him go this instant.” Raising a hand, she slowly tightened her fingers into a fist, increasing the pressure of the thorns digging into Signora’s left arm. “I don’t care why you’re here. Leave. You have no business attacking the Archon of Anemo.”

I’m not going to hold on for long.

“The Archon of Mondstadt needs someone else to fight for him?” Signora laughed derisively. “How impotent you have become, Barbatos.”

A gust of wind blew about half the ice off Venti’s legs. “That smirk you wear looks out of place. Did you steal it from your master's face?”

Signora tutted and began reaching forward. “Should have held your tongue.”

Waving her fist, Sharzad yanked the vines wrapped around Signora’s arm backwards as hard as she could. The Harbinger struggled for only an instant, before slowly pushing forward and–

The plants constricted tighter, even as Signora freed her fingertips from the vines. The glove on that hand had torn, blood leaking towards half-concealed fingertips from cuts further up her body. What flesh Sharzad could see had already begun turning a sickly shade of purple-blue. Or maybe that was the exhaustion catching up to her. The edges of her vision were beginning to blur, even as she pressed on.

She kept her attention on the vines, ignoring everything else that was happening because Signora needed to stop, to leave, to abandon the quest for the Gnoses and–

The vines squeezed tighter and tighter and tighter, razor-sharp thorns growing larger and cutting ever deeper into bruising, bleeding flesh, until, with a sickening squelch, Signora tripped forward, left arm missing but something glowing teal in her right hand. Venti, for his part, collapsed to the ground, only managing a weak groan of pain.

I ripped off Signora’s arm. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.

Sharzad gritted her teeth, primed to race forward and take the Gnosis back. “You bitch–” her legs gave out, leaving only her arms to support herself.

“Sharzad, your body’s too weak to continue!” Nabu warned. “Stop now, before you cause more harm than good!”

“But–” She shook her head, trying to clear the spots appearing in her line of sight.

“Leave the Gnosis. We’ll work on your endurance when you recover.”

“But , I–”

The doors to the cathedral opened. Whoever left the building nearly tripped over Sharzad’s body, stumbling to a halt just outside her faltering field of view. Everything felt distorted, even as she watched someone—no, two people—race forward, weapons drawn to attack the rapidly retreating Fatui agents.

Someone else knelt at her side, placing their hand on Sharzad’s forearm. A burst of energy flooded her veins, stalling her unconsciousness for what would probably be precious few moments. She wasn’t sure how long she might be unconscious this time, how long her body would need to recover. She’d been lucky that the post-battle recovery had only taken five hours, but this time, it might be much, much worse.

“If I’m not awake . . . in three days,” she said hoarsely, “Send a letter to Cyno.”

She’d promised her fathers to keep them aware of what was going on. That included this bullshit.

~~~

The throne room was familiar. Disoriented, she took in the thick, ornate columns, the flaming torches, the towering statue of a certain falcon-headed god. There weren’t flowers here this time, only warm sandstone and a large, empty hall.

Now that she wasn’t so short on time, Sharzad took a moment to actually see what was the source of the sunbeams lighting up the throne like spotlights. They seemed to come from the ceiling itself, the ceiling with no window present.

“It’s about time we talk, mortal.”

“Back to that nickname, are we, Deshret?”

She slowly turned to face him, finding the god standing barely three feet away from her. His arms were behind his back, but that did not take away from the intimidation factor of having a god standing three feet away from her. Here, in the realm of dreams, Deshret was as solid as she was. It was much easier to be insolent to a ghost than to someone tangible.

“You made a deal. We have a contract to discuss.”

“Couldn’t it wait until after I woke up?”

“And when will that be? You do not know.”

“Haven’t you spent the past two years telling me that you’re a god of knowledge? Why don’t you tell me?”

Deshret was silent for a long moment, before he sighed. “Your body will spend thirty-six hours recovering. You are lucky it isn’t more. Nabu is remaining outside to ensure you are well cared for and to keep your dreams pleasant so we may speak in peace.”

“You roped her into this?!”

The room rumbled once. A warning.

“You nearly had a panic attack over your own guilt this morning. The two of us are attempting to ensure your safety of mind, body, and spirit, no matter how reckless your actions may be.” Deshret’s heterochromatic eyes glowed. “You will sit and you will listen to me carefully. The deal you made with me during that battle was reckless and skeletal. We will talk through my domains and my power together and decide what I am to give you in exchange for gaining an heir. Now.”

Sharzad, frankly, just wanted a break from everything. The fact that it had only been a day since she sprouted possible-permanent horns felt unreal, as so much had happened in the past hours alone that it was difficult to process that such events happened within the last day . And somehow, she still had a week before she was due back in Sumeru!

She sighed. “If I’m being completely honest, Deshret, it doesn’t seem like you gain anything out of that deal.”

“You will continue to fulfill the terms of your current deal with me and Nabu Malikata, and in addition, through you, my will shall be spread across the desert and my people will be saved. That is enough.”

Deshret walked towards his throne, gesturing with one hand for Sharzad to follow him there and, once he sat down, for her to sit on one of the thick stone armrests. Honestly, the thing didn’t look all that comfortable, being hard stone except for the gilded and/or painted decorations. When she became queen (a reality she would have to get used to because what the fuck ) she would ensure that her throne was comfortable. With pillows.

The king frowned at her like he could read her thoughts, but instead of questioning her, he sighed. “We are going to do this slowly, so you are certain to retain the information.”

“It’d be better if I had a notebook or something. To take notes.”

Deshret ignored her request in favour of monologuing. “Like any other ancient god, I accumulated power over centuries, and by the time I died, I could accomplish quite a lot of feats. Nabu was quite similar, only she had been weakened by the Fall of her people, and so she lost much of her memories of her original abilities and, consequently, the abilities themselves.”

She crossed her arms. “Oh, so you’re just dropping lore on me, aren’t you?”

“This is no time for jesting. Nabu was—and still remains—one of the Angels. Her blood births the purest of springs, her wings were—are—made of pure light. Whatever she managed in her prime is beyond what most beings on Teyvat could manage to this day. Why do you think Celestia decided the Angels needed to Fall? Why do you think the ones who remain are Seelie, doomed to wander the world as mere husks of what they used to be?”

“What, Celestia was afraid of the Angels? Didn’t the Heavenly Principles overthrow the dragons? Who were arguably more powerful?”

Right? Because of elemental dominion bullshit or something? The only tales that remained of the Old World were fragmentary legends, but Sharzad remembered enough from Genshin’s story to know that the Dragon Sovereigns had been miles above the Archons in terms of power levels.

Were the Angels stronger than the dragons? Was that why they weren’t killed?

“The Angels were friendly with the Seven Sovereigns, though they did not ally themselves with them when the Heavenly Principles initially went to war with the dragons. However, the Principles remained suspicious of the Angels, even more so when Nibelung returned from beyond Teyvat with Forbidden Knowledge. After the dragons were defeated a second time—with half the Sovereigns assassinated and the rest incapacitated—the Principles kept a close watch on the Angels. So when one of them had the gall to wed a human, the Heavenly Principles punished them all, stripping them of their powers and forms save for a scant few weakened survivors, Nabu Malikata and Yohualtecuhtin of the Night Kingdom among them.”

“And then Nabu ended up in the desert,” Sharzad said. “And probably spent years trying to recover, right?”

The Scarlet King nodded. “The desert sands were created after a Celestial Nail had been sent to stabilise the world after the introduction of Forbidden Knowledge. The energy manifested from the Nail was so great that I emerged from the sands soon after. At the same time, Nabu walked this land for decades, and everywhere she bled, springs of the purest water manifested from the sands that would become my kingdom.”

Sharzad waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she sighed. “Okay. So your wife is actually older than you, and the reason you’re the king of the desert is because it literally birthed you. Cool.”

Deshret looked distinctly unimpressed. “That is what you gleaned from the conversation?”

“What was the message? Because it sounded like a history lesson mixed with trauma-dumping in Nabu’s place.”

“The lesson is that the Heavenly Principles are powerful. Even when weakened from battling the dragons and Forbidden Knowledge, they managed to nearly eradicate a whole race of beings made of pure energy. I am warning you that you have to be prepared.”

Sharzad huffed. “I knew that already.” She crossed her legs, trying to get into a more comfortable position. “Weren’t we supposed to talk about my new deal with you?”

Deshret sighed. “How do you manage to be so insolent sometimes?”

“I’m human.”

“Humans cower in the face of gods. That condition of yours is not an excuse.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

Deshret huffed. “It is no time for argument, either. We have a lot of ground to cover and much debating to do.”

She shifted in her seat again. “Fine. Let’s get talking.”

And so they did. Or, rather, Deshret spoke, and Sharzad did her best to simplify the complex magic terms after he explained what the heck he was talking about.

Because whom the fuck used terms like metamorphosis and psammokinesis when you could say shapeshifting and sand manipulation?

Deshret did, apparently.

Which is why it felt like it took seven hours to get through everything he had to say. He described every one of his capabilities in a manner that Sharzad could only compare to the driest papers she had ever read, almost clinical in the way he described his power over sand, his precise control over his own body and form, and his ability to see and interact with energy-born manifestations of the dead (among other things). The last was what had earned him the moniker of god of death, though he insisted (probably to reassure Sharzad) that he had no power over souls. Only the ability to shape and perceive different forms of energy (not see . There was a difference apparently), including the energy that appeared if a soul somehow managed to manifest in the living world.

The list of abilities was perhaps simple in nature, but Deshret went into depth for everything. It wasn’t simply authority over the desert, it was the authority and respect of every living, sentient creature that resided within his kingdom, animals included. It wasn’t simply power over sand, it was absolute control over each individual grain of it, whether compacted into sediment or flying free in the wind. It wasn’t simply enhanced intelligence, it was the power to know and understand the world clearly enough that it appeared as foresight to the uninformed.

“Are the other gods the same way in terms of power level? I know Nabu’s pretty close to you in terms of raw power, but if I understand you correctly, it’s because of the Angel thing, and she might have actually been stronger than you before the whole Fall debacle.”

“Morax, to my knowledge, was on par with me in his prime. Barbatos, I do not remember. The other Archons may have similar levels of power, but they are young and inexperienced for the most part. I find it difficult to believe any of them would approach my power, given how it accumulated over the millennia I lived through. And even I am not on par with the Sovereigns, nor with sweet Nabu before she Fell.” Deshret looked at her sternly, eyes narrowed dangerously. “And you will not approach the level of the divine so long as I am bound to you. We will put safeguards in place so you do not overexert yourself. I will not lose my heir because she decided to test her limits in the heat of battle. You have done this twice already at great risk to yourself, and I will not have you do that again.”

Sharzad threw her hands in the air at that statement, before sighing and leaning back against the wall as Deshret returned to his long-winded explanation of how he theorized his whole knowledge/foreknowledge bullshit worked.

Well, if I didn’t think I was an anime protagonist before, I certainly think it now holy SHIT–

“Okay, so here’s what I think,” she said at the end of however long Deshret spent explaining everything. “If you’re okay with it: sand manipulation, some shapeshifting in the hopes that I get better control of Nabu’s horns, and the radiation-slash-energy bullshit so I can prove to the desert people that I’m your heir by creating sunlight. Then we’ll keep that low-level so I don’t kill myself and also don’t accidentally drown Mondstadt in sand or something.”

“I would prefer it if we did not go the shapeshifting route. It might be wiser to leave you to develop that ability when you do not have two gods’ worth of forms to cycle through. Particularly considering how, as I mentioned, my forms are much more varied than Nabu’s thanks to the circumstances of my birth.”

As in, he had been born from a quartz egg. Not unlike Sun Wukong and the whole stone monkey thing, if Sharzad remembered her mythology correctly. Not that Sun Wukong existed in Teyvat (she had never seen a mention of a Monkey King, so she figured he didn’t).

“You may lose control over your form or, worse, be trapped in a painful shape permanently.”

Sharzad bit her lip. “It might be that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Then fine. We take out the shapeshifting. Just basic sand and sunlight stuff then?”

“If you would like, I could enhance the thermal manipulation so you can do more than generate sunlight.”

Deshret sounded like he was trying to make it up to her. Considering how this deviated from the norm, Sharzad wasn’t entirely certain how to feel about it.

“No. It’s fine.”

“You may find yourself in danger of freezing to death. The first snowfall will happen quite soon.”

Sharzad groaned. “Fine. Some heat stuff too to compensate. But nothing else, please. Nabu’s stuff is enough—not that we’ve really explored anything besides the plants and the horn stuff—not to mention how I might make a deal with Dvalin or Venti if they offer it.”

Deshret scoffed at the mention of the Anemo Archon. “Barbatos would never offer to bind you under a contract! His ideal is freedom, and unfortunately for his nation, he has stuck to that message for the past two millennia.”

“Right, I forgot that Mondstadt’s technically an anarchy.” She stood, holding her hand out to Deshret. “So, I guess we’ll be making the deal now?”

“No. I want you to be awake and in your own body when we seal it. Afterwards, I will . . . graciously give you the day off while I devise a potential schedule for your lessons in proper court etiquette, governance, and weapon handling, among other subjects.”

It took all her willpower not to grimace, but given Deshret’s raised eyebrow, he noticed it anyway.

“What is the matter? Are you unwilling to go through with this?”

“No, no, I am. Willing, I mean.” She stared at the floor. “I’m sorry, it’s just—that’s a lot of stuff. And I–I know we literally just talked about it all, but we’re still talking about transferring literally at least six thousand years’ worth of knowledge and experience to me. A sixteen-year-old with absolutely no experience in this stuff.” Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. Her face was definitely contorted into another grimace, brows furrowed and lip slightly curling in distaste. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

To her surprise, Deshret smiled. “It is wise of you to acknowledge it so early. Perhaps I will not have to drill the wisdom of the ages into your skull quite as hard as I thought I would.”

Chapter Text

QUEST

Ending Note

Ask Aether and Paimon about what happened with Dvalin

Waking up from an overexertion-related coma hurt just as much as it did the first time.

A groan escaped her lungs before she could stop it, her thoughts too inhibited by the piercing headache she developed the second she escaped unconsciousness. If she blinked her eyes open, she was certain she might see stars, and so she kept her eyes closed until the headache began to fade.

“Do you think that was in her sleep? Paimon really thought Sharzad was awake.”

The headache returned in full force. Sharzad groaned again. “Please shut up.”

“Oh, you are awake!” Paimon lowered her voice to a whisper that retained the same intensity as her previous exclamation. At least it reduced the pain spiking in Sharzad’s skull. “Paimon is sorry for talking!”

Sharzad kept her eyes closed. The less of her body she moved, the better for her muscle pain. “Are you . . . alone, Paimon?”

She’d asked someone a question, so she probably wasn’t. The question was who else was here? Aether, probably, but was there anyone else? Venti? Jean? Some of the Knights?

“I’m here, too,” came Aether’s voice. He kept his tone soft, although that basically meant sticking to his usual volume, so it wasn’t that much of a change. “We’re in the Falcon’s Nest, if that helps.”

“I just . . . need to wait. This isn’t the first time–” she blinked open her eyes, finding the curtains drawn halfway across her room’s window, open just enough to let some daylight in but not too much to make the room insufferably bright. “–ugh, the first time this has happened.”

“At least it wasn’t five weeks this time,” Nabu said softly. She sat, cross-legged, at the edge of Sharzad’s bed, watching her carefully. “How was your discussion with Amun?”

Sharzad opened her mouth to answer, before realising that it would be awkward to discuss it with Aether present. It might be best to leave that for another–

Deshret appeared next to the Goddess of Flowers. He glowered at Sharzad, face overshadowed by his headdress. “Productive.”

Sighing, Sharzad slowly pushed herself upwards, wincing at every twinge of pain from her sore muscles. It was like she was twelve again, waking up after having spent the day before studying swordplay with Alhaitham. It hadn’t mattered how much she stretched before or after the sessions: her father’s strength and endurance training always left her body feeling sore for days. Like she’d run a goddamn marathon.

As soon as she was seated upright, she slowly began stretching her limbs, starting with her arms. “What happened after I fell unconscious?”

“Venti and I—we were knocked out around the same time.” Aether scratched the back of his neck. “But I think Kaeya and Diluc tried to attack the Fatui, and Jean says she tried to heal you when she found you at the steps of the cathedral.”

Paimon nodded her agreement. “She was really worried about you! Apparently, all you said was something about someone named Cyno before you fell unconscious.” She spread her arms wide. “At least your horns are gone!”

“What? They are?” Reaching upwards, Sharzad found that, indeed, the horns on her head had vanished. “Oh, fantastic.” She tilted her head to the left in order to stretch her neck, before repeating the motion on the other side. “And, um, are you two okay? I don’t remember too much, but Paimon got frozen in a block of ice, right?”

“We woke up yesterday,” Paimon said cheerfully. “The Traveler was really confused at first, but we went and talked to Venti for a bit, and then came back here to see if you woke up yet.”

She hummed. “Did he say anything important?”

“We asked a few questions about Signora and the Abyss Order. Oh! And he recommended we go to Liyue to speak to their Archon next. There’s something called a Rite of Descension where he shows up once a year.”

Given how Aether began avoiding her gaze and tapping his thigh with a finger, Sharzad figured he had something he didn’t want to tell her. She mentally debated whether to pry for the information or not. It might spook him if she did, but she also didn’t want to be kept in the dark for too long.

“The Rite’s in January,” Sharzad said after a moment of silence. “That’s still about two months away. I don’t know what you’re planning to do until then, but resting in Mondstadt might be your best bet.”

Aether didn’t look at her. He continued tapping his thigh, as if it wasn’t a conscious movement. “How long does it take to travel to Liyue?”

“Two days if you move fast. Three if you’re a little lazier.” She shrugged. “So, like, we could wait until January before traveling there, and then have a week to get our footing before the Rite of Descension.”

The widening of his eyes was a clear sign that he’d noticed the use of we. “You want to go? With me?”

Sharzad bit the inside of her cheek to remind herself not to call Aether by his true name. “I–look. I came to Mondstadt because I’m trying to turn the Teyvat Travel Guide into something that’s actually useful for people–” not a lie, but definitely omitting the System part of the truth. “–I’m going to be travelling across the world anyway, so I might as well hang out with people I’m friends with. Especially since my other options are travelling alone or going back to Sumeru and enduring the same Akademiya bullshit I dealt with for years.”

“I–” Aether spluttered. “–friends?!”

Sharzad rolled out of bed and began stretching as soon as she was certain she still wore the pants and shirt she’d chosen two days earlier. A little gross, but she could shower and change easily. She began searching for a change of clothes in her wardrobe.

“Acquaintances then? Is that better?”

“No, but—you’ll help me look for my sister?”

“Yeah,” she said in a tone that meant obviously. “You and Paimon are going to need Mora and someone with experience in the adventuring side of things, right? And the Knights are kind of too busy and limited in scope to help you look beyond Mondstadt itself. Besides, getting to meet the other Archons?” She snapped her fingers to weave flowers in Paimon’s pale hair. “More powers for me, baby.”

Deshret walked right into her line of sight. “More powers starting with your new deal. When you have the time, teleport somewhere deserted, and we’ll settle these affairs then.”

~~~

Mondstadt looked a lot better now that there weren’t storm clouds blocking out the sun at all times. Of course, the wind remained chilly, as the resolution of the Stormterror crisis didn’t mean the seasons wouldn’t stop changing, but at least Sharzad didn’t feel the threat of rain every moment of every day. How nice.

She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as a gust of particularly chilly wind blew through the streets. “Ugh. How are you okay walking around in a crop top? ” she asked Aether.

He shrugged in reply. “I’ve been in colder places.”

“Sumeru must be suuuper hot if this weather is cold for you,” Paimon commented.

“Well, we do have a desert in the west. And the rainforest isn’t so much hot as it is humid.”

“It’s the wind here that bothers you. Not the temperature. It is too dry.”

Sharzad sighed. “Thanks for the commentary, Deshret.”

The god scoffed at her, before breezing past her so it was clear that he was the one with the highest status out of all of them. The effect was lessened considerably by the fact that Sharzad was the only one who could see Deshret in the first place.

Aether stared at her for a moment, brows furrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

Paimon, as usual, did. Sharzad was beginning to get the sense that the reason the Traveler spoke so little in Genshin Impact was because they were an introvert or, at least, a quiet person. No wonder Paimon acted as their mouthpiece in the game.

“Who are you talking to?”

“. . . Deshret—oh, right, I didn’t really get the chance to explain the whole god thing, did I?”

“Nope! All you said in the tavern was that you made deals with some gods, and then we spoke with Nali Minikiki a few days ago.”

Sharzad and Nabu Malikata both burst into laughter immediately. It would have taken way too much effort to keep her smile—or her outright cackling —away after hearing Paimon absolutely butcher the goddess’ name like that. Deshret, meanwhile, had slowed to a stop and turned just as slowly. He stared at Paimon with something like righteous fury gleaming in his gaze, pale brows furrowed in anger.

This only made Sharzad and the goddess laugh even harder. Nabu fully fell to the ground and started rolling on the cobbled street.

“What? Did Paimon say something wrong?” Paimon flew in front of Sharzad’s face, hands on her hips and annoyance painting her features. “Stop laughing at Paimon!”

“Nabu . . . Malikata–” Sharzad clutched her spasming sides as she fought to get herself under control again. “Nabu Malikata is her name—Deshret you look so pissed off —hahaha–”

“You can talk to them,” Aether said.

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. Their souls are bound to mine.” She huffed. “I don’t usually talk to them in public because I would look, you know, insane, but since we’ll be travelling together, might as well break that particular set of news to you now. ”

“They’re ghosts?” Paimon asked.

Sharzad shrugged. “I guess? I think they’d be the friendly kind, if we want to go that route. Where are we going by the way?”

“Paimon thought we were following you!”

So Paimon and Aether hadn’t been leading her somewhere important after all. She had been keeping pace with them so they could talk, but clearly their aimless wandering around the city was clearly just that: wandering.

What a wonderful waste of time.

She stopped in her tracks. “Do you have something you want to take care of? Commissions, meeting with the Knights, et cetera?”

“We should probably check in with the Knights!” Paimon tapped her chin. “You were asleep for a while, and Paimon thinks Jean told us to tell her when you woke up.”

Sharzad took in a breath. Right. Letting adults know she was okay. Like Jean and Lisa and Diluc and Kaeya and Venti—well, thankfully she could tell three of them at once if she let Jean know everything was fine, right? It would be the responsible thing to do.

I should probably drop off a note to let Dad and Papa know I’m okay while I’m at it.

She took off in a dead sprint, leaving Paimon to yell “HEY!” at the sudden departure.

Sharzad didn’t care. She knew Aether would follow her to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, and probably beyond as well, seeing as he’d been content to wander the streets of Mondstadt with her rather than guiding her somewhere specific or asking where she wanted to go.

He couldn’t follow her everywhere though. Especially not to Sumeru (not now, anyway).

About halfway through the afternoon, she locked herself up in her room under the pretense of taking a nap. She composed a short note telling her fathers she was alright and confirming when she’d be coming for an actual visit (in five days), and then she teleported home and left the note on the kitchen counter.

“We still have to make the deal,” Deshret reminded her as she opened her mini map to teleport back to Mondstadt.

She glanced at the kitchen window, noting that it was still pretty bright outside. Aether wouldn’t come in to check on her for a bit because he was much too polite to bother her while she was napping. Besides, he was out on commissions right now, so he wouldn’t show up to the Falcon’s Nest for a while, anyway.

Nodding once, she selected the waypoint in Brightcrown Canyon, a location far enough from the city that Aether couldn’t possibly go to for a commission if he wanted to be back in time for nightfall. The sensation of her body tingling with pins and needles arrived and faded within seconds, and she found herself standing in a grassy plain with grass-covered cliffs surrounding parts of the area.

She walked a short distance away from the waypoint, keeping her head on a swivel in case slimes popped out of a bush or something.

“This good, Deshret?” she asked eventually.

The ghost manifested next to her. “Acceptable.”

“He likes it,” Nabu translated with a smile. “Are you ready?”

Sharzad breathed in slowly, then turned to face Deshret. A light breeze blew a stray piece of her hair across her line of sight, and she reached up to tuck it behind her ear. “We talked it through. We went over what I did and didn’t want. Deshret made suggestions and we came to an agreement.” Taking another breath that shook ever so slightly, she held her hand out to the god standing before her, using her other hand to pull up her sleeve and expose the brand on her wrist. “The only thing left is to seal the deal.”

To her surprise, Deshret didn’t take her hand immediately. Instead, he took a measured step forward and stared carefully at her face, probably analysing each micro-expression that crossed it.

“Do you understand what you are agreeing to?”

“I think so.”

“Do you understand that this deal will make you my heir, and that by sealing it, you will tread the path of a monarch? There will be no turning back after this. You will seal kingship into your destiny.”

He was asking if she was willing to do this for real. Willing to sign away her future in exchange for a throne. Willing to become a queen. The Queen of the Great Red Sand.

She had considered it over sleepless nights and in the dreams Nabu brought her into. She had considered the pros and cons, the benefits and detriments of power. She had considered her origins, how she all but spawned in the desert, born from the sands in a way not dissimilar from Deshret. She had considered what it would mean to her fathers, to her friends and her family and her mentors.

This was power she would need in the future. This was power that could help her now. This was power that could help the people in the desert, the children who had no education, the elderly who didn’t have enough water to sustain their lives, the mercenaries and civilians trying to survive in one of the harshest environments of Teyvat. This was power that might help her rewrite Teyvat’s fate.

“Yes.”

Deshret smiled, exposing sharp canines and gleaming white teeth. He reached forward and took her extended hand, not that Sharzad could feel his skin on hers. The brand on her wrist began to painfully burn, glowing with the fury of the desert’s sun.

Sharzad watched Nabu Malikata take a step backwards, before returning her attention to the king grasping her hand.

“Do you, Sharzad Athari Taftazani, accept the terms of this bargain? That you will inherit my authority over sands and heat and solar energy, with limits in place so that you do not risk ending your own life with these powers? In exchange that, along with the continuation of our first deal, you acknowledge that you have become my heir, the future Queen of the Great Red Sand, and will participate in lessons to ensure your readiness to take the title for real?”

Breathe in. Breathe out. You were made for this.

“Yes,” she replied as her blood was set aflame, as the brand on her wrist pulsed brighter and brighter and brighter. “I accept, Deshret.”

“So you have said it, so it shall be.”

Energy flooded her veins in a moment, more potent, more powerful than any simple rush of adrenaline. It hurt everything it touched, and yet Sharzad felt welcomed by the warmth, the burning pain tempered with an overwhelming sense of homecoming. A sense of overwhelming love. Deshret’s love for the desert. For the sands from which he came.

The sands from which I came. In this life, at least.

Light burst forth from her wrist, blinding her until it faded as quickly as it came. The brand was missing, her body was aflame, and even the air felt supercharged. The wind cut through her clothing, yet with only a thought of warming up, the chill was replaced with a warm embrace that smelled vaguely of the desert air.

Deshret, with Nabu Malikata by his side once more, continued to smile at her. “How does it feel, Your Highness?”

Your Highness.

They weren’t equals, not yet, but Sharzad had just guaranteed that they would be in the future. She breathed out a sigh, trying to shake out the worst of the energy overflow.

“Strangely, it feels like home. Also, never call me that again. I’ve only just gotten used to you calling me by name.”

~~~

The house felt strangely quiet without Sharzad around.

It wasn’t silence—Kaveh still worked on projects, still broke out his dutar and played music, still bickered with Alhaitham—but it was quiet. Quiet because it was just the two of them. Quiet because he couldn’t hear Sharzad muttering to herself or her gods. Quiet because a presence that had been there for years was gone for longer than a few weeks, and unlike their previous separations, Kaveh had no fucking clue where his daughter was.

“Tell me why you still manage to make a hobby out of stealing my keys?!”

Alhaitham hummed as he unlocked the front door. “I can’t help it if they end up tangled together.”

Kaveh jabbed his finger into his husband’s forearm. “You’d think the Akademiya’s Scribe would be smart enough to build a habit after six years of me asking him to do so!”

“Why would I need to build a habit for something that doesn’t happen every day?”

“It happens often enough!” Kaveh locked the door behind them.

The house keys knocked against one another, producing a metallic noise that punctuated the silence as Alhaitham turned to him. “You’re making mountains out of molehills, dear.”

Kaveh pouted. “You’re just doing this just to annoy me, aren’t you?”

Alhaitham, the bastard, ignored him.

“Hey!”

“Am I making dinner tonight? Or did your clients miraculously avoid infuriating you today?”

Huffing, Kaveh followed his husband further inside the house. “Haitham, stop ignoring my question! And, yes, my clients were infuriating today. They kept asking for structures that aren’t physically possible to build!”

“Hmm. Would making your mother’s quiche help?”

It was one of the recipes Faranak passed them during their trip to Fontaine, a savoury sort of pie using eggs and cheese, plus whatever else they wanted to add in on any particular day.

Kaveh sighed. The quiche was good, but Alhaitham was clearly trying to distract him. “It won’t help you avoid my question !”

Because the only reason he hadn’t replied was because he didn’t want to. Probably because Kaveh guessed the truth. Sure, to most people, Alhaitham was the unemotional, brutally honest, lazy scholar who couldn’t care to go out of his way to do anything . But Kaveh knew the truth: Alhaitham knew perfectly well how to be likeable to people, but he didn’t care about how he acted (unless his family was involved) .

This meant that Alhaitham took Kaveh’s keys purely to get a rise out of him. Absolutely diabolical.  

Seemingly reading Kaveh’s train of thought, Alhaitham stopped walking and smirked at him (minuscule as it was). “Considering your facial expression, you already have your answer, dearest.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe you–did you leave your papers lying around the kitchen again?!” Because, indeed, there was a folded sheet of paper lying on the kitchen counter. Kaveh could see it clearly from the kitchen’s doorway. “I thought we agreed not to leave our stuff around where we’re making food?”

“Flicker.”

Dendro energy burst around them as Alhaitham used his Vision to teleport into the kitchen.

He picked up the note and, after a short pause, let out a breath. The way his shoulders dropped suggested it was news from their daughter. He confirmed its sender seconds later. “It’s from Sharzad.” His voice shook slightly.

Kaveh was at Alhaitham’s side in an instant. “What does it say?”

Instead of reading the note aloud, Alhaitham handed it to him.

Hi Dad! Hi Papa!

Wanted to let you two know that the dragon crisis in Mondstadt has been solved as of two days ago (no, I did not deal with the dragon personally. The Knights of Favonius’ Acting Grandmaster forbade it). I’d have told you sooner but I overexerted myself trying to defend the city from an Abyss Order attack (long story, but I made a temporary deal with Deshret) and got knocked out for a bit. I’m all better now, so I figured I’d get the news to you before some newspaper gets the word out to the rest of Tevyat.

Also, how’s next Saturday for dinner? I figured I’d give you a heads-up rather than showing up out of nowhere.

Love you (and miss you!) both,

Sharzad

Kaveh reread the letter twice, groaned, and did his best to not sink to the floor and panic.

She dealt with an Abyss Order attack?! What even was the Abyss Order? If it was connected to the Abyss, that meant she fought monsters. And not just any monsters, but monsters powerful enough to warrant making a deal with Deshret (however temporary it might have been) and overexerting herself, which in Sharzad-language meant she might have died!

At least she hadn’t faced the dragon. What a small mercy.

Alhaitham’s hand found his shoulder, giving Kaveh a light squeeze. “Are you alright?”

“What do you think?” he snapped. Upon making eye contact with his husband, he found the worry he deeply felt reflected in Alhaitham’s orange-turquoise gaze. Wait, even worse—Alhaitham was trembling. Visibly trembling.

Was it anxiety? Fear? Guilt that he’d agreed to let Sharzad go even though nearly two months earlier he’d given her permission to leave? Whatever it was, it was eating away at Alhaitham enough that he couldn’t hide those feelings (not that Kaveh ever wanted his husband to feel like he had to hide things from him). Enough for it to seem like each second of waiting for an answer brought Alhaitham closer to tears.

Kaveh opened his arms, giving the scribe the choice of touch if he wanted it. As he’d expected, Alhaitham took a step forward, wrapped his arms around Kaveh’s waist, and buried his face in the architect’s shoulder. The trembling was easy to perceive now that Alhaitham was in his arms, and Kaveh, hoping to help out, reciprocated the embrace and began rubbing small circles into the back of his husband’s shoulder.

“What’s the matter?”

The reply was mumbled. Quiet. “She should have told us in person.”

Kaveh found that he agreed wholeheartedly with this.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to make the Mondstadtians suspicious,” he suggested, partly to convince himself. “If she disappears too often, they might find out about the teleporting. Lisa’s incredibly sharp, you know that.”

“Too many of us know about her System.”

“Five people besides her know, Haitham. Us, Cyno, Tighnari, and Yoimiya. Maybe six or seven depending on whether she’s outright told Collei or Faruzan rather than letting them suspect. That’s not a lot.”

“Too many, Kaveh.” Alhaitham raised his head, but he didn’t move away from Kaveh. His brows were furrowed, voice low and tense with concern. “And what about Gulnaz and Bhaskara? They might have seen something in the Mausoleum, and if they spread that information–”

Kaveh cupped Alhaitham’s face, brushing the pad of his thumb across dark grey stubble. He clearly hadn’t shaved in a day or two (although Kaveh honestly wouldn’t be opposed to seeing a beard on Alhaitham. He could definitely pull it off). “You’re the one who told me she can handle herself. I might not trust Sharzad to stay out of danger, but I’m sure she learned her lesson about overexerting herself. She’s good at applying knowledge to her life.”

“I also told you to leave the worries for down the road, and look at me.”

He snorted. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you follow directions, Alhaitham. Not unless you absolutely want to.”

“Hmm. Maybe she gets that from me.” He was teasing again, though his brows remained furrowed. Good, at least he wasn’t on the verge of tears anymore. He’d stopped shaking, too.

“No.” Kaveh shook his head. “Sharzad can follow directions better than you. But she also has a sense for the dramatics that rivals my own.”

Another smirk. “I think she beat you the moment she started singing in the Mausoleum.”

The memory of the angry (and eerie) song, and the accompanying carnage at his daughter’s hand sent a shudder through his body. “Don’t remind me. If the Akasha didn’t sap our dreams, I’d probably be having nightmares about it for the rest of my life.”

“Me too.” Alhaitham kissed his forehead. “What do you want for dinner, dearest? Something simple?”

“Sabz Meat Stew? Or your Ideal Circumstance that is definitely not anywhere near what Sabz Meat Stew actually is? ” he suggested, delighting in the way Alhaitham’s eyes lit up at the mention of his abomination creation. “We could break out that bottle of Liyuean wine you bought last month.”

“Sounds perfect, qīn ài de. Will you tell me about your clients while we cook?”

The reminder of his exhaustive attempt to explain basic physics to his client sent a flash of annoyance through him. “Thank you for the reminder. You will not believe how difficult it is to explain basic physics to people sometimes!”

Chapter Text

QUEST

Experiments in Alchemy

Talk to Lisa at the Knights of Favonius Headquarters

While eating breakfast the next morning, Sharzad did her very best not to dissolve into sand.

Not that she could dissolve herself in the first place (hopefully), but she was rapidly learning that the second she thought of anything related to the abilities Deshret gave her, even in passing, the thing fucking happened.

Case in point, her plate dissolving into fucking sand . Because the thought crossed her mind for less than a second.

“I regret everything,” she groaned, seriously considering slamming her head into the table.

Paimon’s eyes went wide. “Whoa . . . have you always been able to do that?”

Fortunately, no.

“I’ve been able to do it since yesterday evening.” She glanced at the next table over, where Deshret sat with a scroll in front of him. He was busy scribbling and crossing out notes of some kind. “Deshret, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this? Everything keeps turning into sand.”

The god didn’t even bother looking up. “Control your thoughts. Rein them in rather than giving them light.”

“Easy for you to say, oh Great God of Wisdom. The second I think about something like a sandcastle– shit!”

Because, right in front of her eyes, the sand that had once been her plate moved and formed a small, sandy approximation of the Palace of Alcazarzaray, complete with windows that entirely defied physics. Sharzad figured this was the whole Deshret sand-magic stuff based entirely on how the sand also happened to be glowing (although only slightly).

Oh, and also her breakfast—Mondstadt Hash Browns she had been looking forward to, plus some fruits—was now buried within the sand Palace of Alcazarzaray. She groaned again.

And Aether, the traitor, looked like he was two seconds away from laughing.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, lips twitching upwards in a telltale sign of building laughter.

“Like you’re going to laugh. I lost my hash browns to sand!” she added in a whine. “Sand I created! I created this mess!”

“Paimon doesn’t think that building is a mess, but it is really sad your food is gone.” Paimon took another bite of her own, sand free hash browns (Sharzad dragged her thoughts away from this before everything got worse), and then spoke without swallowing everything. “Whush ish it?”

“What is it?” When Paimon nodded, Sharzad reached out to tap the top of the palace’s central spire. The thing fell apart. “It was a wonderful representation of my father’s favourite project—besides our house. The Palace of Alcazarzaray.”

She pulled one of the hash browns from the pile of sand. It was absolutely covered in sand, and unfortunately that meant it was woefully inedible. How lovely.

“Pull the sand away from the hash browns,” Nabu Malikata suggested softly. “You can remove all the sand." 

Sharzad glanced over Nabu’s shoulder at Deshret for approval, but she found the god completely immersed in his scroll, blind to the world around him.

Probably working on the schedule thing.

Sighing, Sharzad glared at the hash brown in her hand and thought hard about all the sand particles on it joining the rest of the sand on the table.

This worked.

Or, rather, all of the sand on the hash brown flew to the table with enough force to make the entire thing shake. The surviving plates on the table rattled, drawing several peoples’ eyes to where they sat. Oops.

Sharzad sighed again and lowered her voice to a mumble. “These powers are too responsive.”

This seemed to be enough for Aether, who burst out laughing. Chewing on her first bite of her long-desired hash brown, she glared at him. Unfortunately, he just kept on laughing.

How dare he.

“Sorry, it’s just— hahahahaha–” his chair scraped across the floorboards as he leaned backwards at a dangerous angle. “–the way you said—hahaha–”

Nabu leaned over to whisper in Sharzad’s ear: “Amun will aid you as soon as he finishes his schedule. There is much to prepare for your eventual ascent to his throne."

“Tell him to hurry the fuck up,” Sharzad hissed in Deshreti as she dug up a second hash brown. For a moment, she felt like she was conducting a strange archaeological dig dedicated to unearthing artefacts from Deshret’s time.

Then she remembered that a) she was sitting at a table in the Falcon’s Nest, b) she was supposed to be eating breakfast, and c) the pile of sand in front of her had once been the plate containing her precious hash browns.

Did she really miss archaeological fieldwork so much? She’d barely even conducted an actual archaeological dig besides fieldwork for a class she took when she was thirteen. She had done considerably more adventure/Indiana Jones-style archaeology, and that was what she was supposed to be doing in Mondstadt.

Maybe she should get out and do some. She barely had time to do any work beforehand, besides visiting the more prominent ruins like the Thousand Winds Temple. It would be nice to actually survey somewhere instead of visiting like a tourist.

She whipped the sand off the second hash brown. “Once we’re done eating, I’m going to run to the library and talk to Lisa.”

“Why?” Paimon asked. “Does she know about this kind of thing?”

“No. But she definitely knows about ruins nearby, and I want to get digging.”

Brows furrowed in confusion, Aether tilted his head. “What?”

“I said what I said.”

~~~

The Knights of Favonius Headquarters were surprisingly empty for around ten in the morning. Sharzad would have expected them to be bustling with soldiers on their way to their assignments, like the Citadel of Rezgar usually was.

Maybe it was the expedition’s fault. It seemed to be the cause of many of Mondstadt’s issues.

The library, too, was devoid of people. Or, actually, there were people there: Lisa and the young man with pale blond hair she was speaking to. From what Sharzad could see, he wore a white coat reminiscent of the lab coats worn by Spantamad and Amurta researchers; however, the rest of his attire seemed more practical than that of an Akademiya scholar: thigh-high boots, durable-looking pants, and thick gloves worn even indoors.

Albedo?

The witch noticed Sharzad (with Aether and Paimon in tow) almost immediately, shooting them a friendly smile. “Good morning you three.”

Sharzad waved. “Hi. Who’s this?”

Upon closer inspection, the stranger wore a Geo Vision around his neck.

“It has been years since I have even seen an attempt at a homunculus,” Nabu Malikata commented. “They are rarely successful experiments. And this one seems to be in perfect condition after centuries. I would have thought his body would have crumbled by now.”

How comforting.

Lisa, being unable to see ghosts, did not react to this and instead began introductions. “This is Albedo, Chief Alchemist and Captain of the Investigation Team of the Knights of Favonius. Albedo, this is Sharzad Athari Taftazani, one of the Knights of Favonius’ new Honorary Knights.”

Strange. Albedo didn’t get a last name in his introduction.

“A fellow scholar, I see.” Sharzad shook Albedo’s hand. “Lisa didn’t mention it, but I’m a Dastur of the Vahumana Darshan. A . . . historian and archaeologist, to put it in layman’s terms.”

Albedo’s turquoise eyes gleamed in a way that made her feel like she was being x-rayed. “Hello.” After a short (and very awkward) silence, he glanced at Aether and Paimon. “And who are these?”

“Paimon is Paimon, and this is Helios!”

“Helios is the other new Honorary Knight,” Sharzad added in an attempt to draw Albedo’s interest away from herself. His eyes were downright creepy. They felt kind of . . . unnatural in a way that Sharzad couldn’t exactly place, a real-life manifestation of the uncanny valley effect that made her feel strangely nauseous.

Was that just Nabu and Deshret’s power reacting that way? Or did everyone find his eyes strange?

“Oh, so you are the two . . .” Albedo tapped his chin. “Lisa has suggested you may help me with my research. I was not expecting you to find me so easily.”

Sharzad snorted. “Research is why I’m here. Lisa mentioned ruined temples to Istaroth a few weeks ago, but I’ve been too busy getting my Wind Glider license and exploring the larger ruins to visit them. I was hoping she might point me in the right direction.”

“I see. Would you perhaps allow me to accompany you to the ruins? Seeing you in action might help me solve a research problem.”

Research problem? Was this what his story quest was about? Sharzad couldn’t remember it because she’d played it way too early in the game. Maybe it was about the Durin stuff and the extra Albed— no, that was an event and she most definitely hadn’t played that.

“Problem?” Paimon asked.

Sharzad realised that she hadn’t said anything and had instead created another awkward pause. Yeesh. Would they become a common occurrence? That would suck.

Albedo nodded. “I have a seed that fell here from another world. I have been trying to get it to sprout for weeks. It has stubbornly refused to. I only came down to Mondstadt to act as reinforcements for the battle against the Abyss, but I arrived as it ended.” Turning from Paimon, he returned his attention to Sharzad. “I saw what you did. Summoning and manipulating that much sand without a Vision is something I have never encountered before.”

She remained quiet, deciding to wait it out rather than comment on what he said.

“I intended to ask you about your powers directly after the battle, but your energy requirements meant I had to wait. Yet, despite what Lisa says about you being from Sumeru, I would still like to investigate your abilities. While you may not be from another world as I originally hypothesised, you may still be useful.”

Something deep in her chest tightened. Close call. Way too close.

Even her fathers hadn’t figured it out, and they were certainly at or near Albedo’s intelligence level. Only, she also knew both Kaveh and Alhaitham could be absolute dumbasses when their friends and family were involved, so maybe that was why it took them four years to suggest the whole reincarnation thing (and they hadn’t even considered the other worlds thing!).

Then again, Albedo knew other worlds existed, but the Akademiya clamped down on such subjects, so maybe that was a factor instead?

Whatever the case, Albedo’s deduction was unexpected and, considering what little she knew/remembered of his history, deeply unsettling.

Sharzad wouldn’t have minded telling him the truth if he asked, but the fact that he figured it out on his own was something else. Usually, only gods guessed the truth, and that was related to her divine magnet situation. The fact that someone who was a normal person (immortal homunculus status notwithstanding), to guess so close to the truth without using magical means made her deeply uncomfortable and surprisingly afraid.

What if other people guessed it the same way? Or just by coincidence? Or alternatively, what if Albedo had magical means of learning the truth that nobody knew about?

“Calm yourself.” Deshret rested a ghostly hand just over Sharzad’s arm. “I will move masking your emotions higher on the list of lessons you must learn.”

Nodding, Sharzad took a breath to compose herself.

“My life story is long and complicated. All I will say is that my powers come from the Goddess of Flowers and the King of the Great Red Sand.” To prove her point, she pressed her palms together so that, when she slowly parted them, a lotus sat within her cupped hands. She held it out to Albedo. “I do not need a Vision because, unlike you allogenes, my powers don’t come from the Archons.”

“Fascinating.” Albedo’s attention was entirely on the flower in Sharzad’s hands. He didn’t even bother looking up at her as he reached out to touch the lotus’ petals and rub them between gloved fingers. “Back to my original question: would you be alright if I observed your exploration of the ruins? It would allow me to collect the data necessary to reattempt my experiment.”

NEW QUEST

Observation Report

Investigate the ancient ruins with Albedo by your side

Rewards: 475 EXP, 60 Primogems, 27,825 Mora, 5 Guide to Ballad, 3 Hero’s Wit, 6 Mystic Enhancement Ore

Deshret immediately stepped in front of Albedo, forcing Sharzad to look at him. She withdrew her hands, letting the lotus crumble to dust, so that her arms weren’t halfway through Deshret’s ghostly torso.

“I do not trust him enough to go with you."

“What harm could there be, Amun? He is a man of science like you are.” Smiling, Nabu laid a gentle hand on her husband’s arm. “I would have thought you would approve of his investigation.”

“He is tampering with truths too close to Sharzad’s identity! I will not risk harming her or my people’s future for the sake of scientific curiosity!”

Sharzad fought fiercely to keep her expression neutral, but considering how every single person in the room looked at her like she’d done something extremely strange, she assumed that she failed horribly at doing this.

“Yes, I’m okay with it,” she said in an attempt to break the renewed awkwardness.

“Sharzad, this is absolute madness–”

What’s absolute madness is how everyone is staring at me right now. Because they can’t see you–

Sunlight burst from nowhere, illuminating where Deshret stood like a spotlight. Unfortunately, this did absolutely nothing because Deshret was a ghost.

Albedo held a hand out to the sunlight in interest, stucking his entire forearm through the Lord of the Blazing Sun’s sternum in the process (Deshret’s lip curled in disgust and he stepped away from the alchemist). “Hmm. Interesting. You can also generate sunlight.”

“Yes, I—shit. Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to happen–it’s the first time this has happened–”

Please turn off please turn off please turn off–

Aether’s smile was deeply amused. “Another new power?”

“Yes.”

Please turn off please turn off please turn off–

The light, thankfully, finally turned off.

Deshret, for his part, raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “You are extremely lucky you did not turn off the sun.”

“I’m pretty sure I can’t do that, Deshret.”

“You could. But it would kill you, and so you are unable to do so. You’re welcome.”

Sighing, Sharzad ran a hand through her hair. “Nabu, please control your husband.”

“I find all of this rather amusing,” she replied with a smile, just as Albedo spoke up once again.

“You are . . . able to communicate with them? Fascinating.”

Shit. I messed up.

It seemed like Albedo was two seconds away from taking notes about every little thing Sharzad did. Unsurprisingly, it reminded her of the Amurta students who met with her (especially right after the Mausoleum fiasco), desperate for answers about how she survived a month-long coma. She’d made it clear to them that she wasn’t fond of being studied, and that sentiment continued here.

“Please don’t. I’m not a–a specimen, alright?” She heard her voice crack, but pressed on anyway. “I’m willing to let you study my powers because they might help you out, but I want to be treated as a human being and not as a specimen. I’ve been stared at for far too much of my life.”

Albedo stared at her for a moment and, instead of responding, turned to Aether. “Will you be accompanying us, too? To be frank, I am just as curious about your abilities, which are undoubtedly because you are from another world.”

Sharzad fought hard not to facepalm at the sight of Aether and Lisa’s eyes widening. The former clearly meant for his identity to remain a secret and the latter didn’t know said identity. And while Albedo had no idea that this was the case, Sharzad still thought that Albedo could have been more subtle about it.

Sweet Kusanali, she thought as Aether began stuttering through excuses and made-up stories. This is going to be some terrible damage control.

~~~

Spotting something lying in the grass, Sharzad crouched down and picked up whatever caught her attention. Aether wasn’t entirely sure what it was.

They’d journeyed northeast from the City of Mondstadt to a small set of abandoned stone foundations. Aether vaguely remembered passing through here on the way to the Thousand Winds Temple, but he had been too focused on Jean’s advice for fighting Ruin Guards to notice such a small feature. However, it had been noted by adventurers exploring the nation of Anemo and left relatively unexcavated, which was why Lisa had suggested it.

“Oh, is this— it’s just lying there?!”

“Ooh, did you find treasure?! Let Paimon see!”

Paimon zipped away from Aether to float in front of Sharzad. Aether watched the light in her eyes dim as her expression morphed from enthusiastic to confused to indignant.

“That’s just a piece of rock! How’s that treasure?!”

Sharzad laughed, holding up the piece of whatever to the sky. “This is a piece of pottery with absolutely fantastic decorations on its rim! Look! You can even see the temper on its inside!”

“Pottery?! That’s not even close to treasure!” Paimon stomped her foot in the air like she was a child throwing a tantrum. “Paimon thought it was something fancy and cool!”

“This is cool! To an archaeologist, anyway.” Turning around, she brandished the piece of pottery at Aether. “Take a look at this. I’ll have to dig out my professor’s typology of common Mondstadtian pottery to see if this rim matches up with any known type, but—oooooh, this is so exciting!” She bounced on her toes and finally handed the piece to Aether, before running off to crouch in the dirt again.

Aether turned the piece of copper-coloured clay in his hands, running a thumb over the curved surface. Faded marks in a dark-coloured paint curled in a crumpling pattern of wind and sundial-like symbols, clearly continuing on beyond the small piece of pottery. It must have been a beautiful piece, however long ago the pot was whole.

Someone wandered to his side: Albedo, who held a hand out for the piece of pottery. “May I see it?”

Given he knew absolutely nothing about pottery, Aether saw nothing wrong with this, so he turned it over to Albedo before taking a few steps closer to Sharzad so he stood about halfway between them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Albedo—he trusted him as much as he did the rest of the Knights of Favonius, actually—but the way the man had so easily guessed where Aether came from and, even worse, just told everyone in the library about it, made bile rise in his throat. It was something he’d rather keep a secret from the residents of Teyvat, and although Paimon knew the truth, Sharzad had only ever heard the implied versions of his past. She might be smart enough to figure it out (especially with two gods in her head), but Aether had hoped that, by keeping the truth unconfirmed, he would never have to share details about his past.

Albedo had ruined this and, in the process, told Lisa the truth as well.

While Sharzad didn’t seem particularly shocked by the confirmation, Aether had noticed (somehow, in the midst of his panic) her eyes shifting from Albedo to Aether and back again. Like she’d already known the truth. Like the revelation told her less about Aether and more about Albedo. Like it was a sign that she should definitely not trust the alchemist.

“No, Deshret, I don’t care. I don’t have a trowel with me because the ones I used were borrowed off my fieldwork techniques professor. This dagger’s the next best thing.”

Said dagger gleamed silver in the faint sunlight despite the dirt clinging to its wide blade.

She’s talking to him.

He found those exchanges strange, mostly due to the lack of a visible or audible conversation partner. This world didn’t seem to have remote-communication technology like phones or enchanted mirrors, and while Aether was used (to an extent) to seeing conversations with people he couldn’t see or hear, it was more difficult to understand when those people happened to be ghosts. Ghosts who belonged to deceased gods. When necromancers or other magical beings summoned ghosts, they were typically visible to everyone within a certain area.

It would no doubt take him a while to get used to her occasional exchanges with unseen conversation partners.

“Yeah, I noticed— shit!”

Sharzad skidded backwards as something glowing scarlet sprouted from the ground in a burst of fire.

A long stick of wood with three decorated pendant-things at one end appeared in her hand. “Thrice-damned disguised plant bullshit!” She smacked the newly manifested plant-like creature on the head with one end of the weapon, before snatching Paimon’s ankle and dashing backwards to Aether’s side.

“What are you doing?” she asked. No. Demanded.

Dumbfounded, Aether gaped at her. “What?”

“Your sword, dumbass. There’s a battle to be fought against a very annoying monster.”

Her last word resonated with Aether’s very bones, marked by the snap of a finger and a pink . . . glow lighting up brown skin and golden eyes. Round cacti sprouted from the ground, growing to about Paimon’s size in an instant.

“Interesting,” Albedo muttered behind him.

The plant monster set half of the cacti on fire. Sharzad jumped back within range of the creature, clumsily whacking it with her weapon, which she clearly wasn’t used to wielding.

Realising that it would be wise to help her, Aether summoned the old, dull blade he’d found some time after waking up. He reached the creature just as Sharzad jumped back, throwing up more plants in order to avoid blasts of flame headed for her face.

“Wind blade!”

The blast of Anemo turned red as it made contact with the plant monster, stopping it in its tracks for an instant before it buried itself in the ground and popped up a few feet away.

Sharzad mumbled something in a language Aether most definitely did not know, before speaking in Teyvan. The sass and sarcasm in her voice was obvious. “Oh yeah, Deshret, let me just use the powers I acquired yesterday when I’ve spent two whole years throwing plants at everything!” She whirled around, nearly whacking Aether with the end of her weapon. “Ha! Not to mention this godawful polearm—yes I know it’s yours, but I also don’t care because I much prefer my sword– ”

Even as she argued with the ghost king, Sharzad kept her feet moving, eyes glowing periodically as she summoned plants and, at one point, small green diamonds that hovered over her shoulder. They emitted laser-like blasts whenever she hit the monster.

Meanwhile, Aether did his best to deflect the blasts headed for Sharzad, supplementing his attacks with blasts of Anemo when it was clear that Sharzad wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire. Even if she could heal herself, he didn’t want to risk injuring her. Especially when he didn’t know her well enough to gauge how she’d react to friendly fire.

The battle ended about a minute later, with Sharzad restraining the creature long enough for Aether to get in close and cleave it in half. It crumbled into two halves, tiny flames escaping the flesh newly exposed to the air.

“Here.” Sharzad shoved something—a pink, almost pear-shaved fruit covered in fuzz—into his hands. “Eat. It’ll restore your energy.”

Aether chose not to mention that this fight was barely tiring. He’d faced a lot worse, and even in his weakened state, his body didn’t get as exhausted as those of humans. “What is this?”

“A Zaytun peach.” Another of the fruits flashed in the air as Sharzad tossed it, before catching it again. “They’re really sweet.”

“Ooh, ooh! Paimon wants to try!”

Sharzad laughed, holding the fruit in her hand out to Paimon. “Sure, here. I can always grow more.”

“You didn’t grow these two,” Aether commented.

“Neither did I grow this one. But that doesn’t mean I won’t when I run out of them.”

He gaped as Sharzad virtually pulled a peach out of thin air, before taking a large bite of it.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. Were there wizards in this world? A pocket dimension of some kind? Why was Sharzad the only one apparently able to do these strange feats of magic?

Oblivious to his gaping mouth, or perhaps ignoring it, Sharzad hummed in contentment. She turned towards Albedo, who was busy writing in a notebook of some kind. “Got some notes on our fighting down, Albedo? Cause if you’re done, I’d like to know what you know about this site and the people that used it.”

Chapter Text

QUEST

Family Dinner

Have dinner with your fathers

Alhaitham had done his very best to have a light and non-exhaustive day, but unfortunately for him, Kaveh seemed to have different plans.

“It’s just Sharzad, Kaveh,” he commented as his husband pressed a freshly-written grocery list into his hands. “No need to do all of this.”

“Haitham, I am about to see my child for the first time in a month, and I would like our home to be presentable! We do not live in a hovel!”

Kaveh’s hair, tied in a bun on top of his head, bounced with every movement he made. The broom he clutched was just threatening enough that Alhaitham decided to tone down the teasing a little. Given the other cleaning supplies Kaveh had pulled out—several cloths for dusting, sponges, and a bucket of water among them—he clearly planned on deep-cleaning the entire house.

This was an absurd idea, in Alhaitham’s opinion, considering Sharzad had seen the house in considerably worse states, even having personally contributed to messes ranging from baking mistakes to ink spills to accidentally scratching wooden surfaces with her sword(s) and other blades.

He scanned the list of groceries. “What’s on the menu tonight?”

“Ugh, you . . . ! Don’t pretend like we didn’t talk about this!”

They had. Extensively. It had taken all of Alhaitham’s rhetoric skills to deter Kaveh from making a whole feast, arguing that Sharzad would prefer a more casual meal than an entire dinner party. So instead, they’d be making biryani and fereni. Given the items on the list, he was being sent out for the ingredients they were missing (which amounted to rosewater, lamb, onions, and a few other small things) as well as other items they were running low on. Items Alhaitham could have picked up the day before had Kaveh not insisted on fresh lamb for the meal.

“What else would I use to tease you, dearest senior?”

“Hmph! You could not tease me!”

“Life would be too easy otherwise.”

Kaveh’s red eyes narrowed into slits. “Put that damn smirk away and go buy the food. I have cleaning to do.”

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?”

“Fine.” The architect marched to his side and brushed his lips over his husband’s cheek, before stepping back again. “There. Now go.”

Deeply unsatisfied, Alhaitham dragged Kaveh towards him and planted a kiss on his lips instead, nibbling Kaveh’s lower lip for good measure. Then, before Kaveh could make use of the broom to forcefully shove Alhaitham from the house, he walked towards the front door and snatched his Akasha from the table at the entrance.

“Love you!” came the call as he opened the door. “And get good deals off the aunties!” 

“Yes, dear,” Alhaitham said mildly. “Love you too.”

After locking the door, he set out on the relatively short walk towards Sumeru City, keeping his Akasha in his pocket rather than putting it on. He’d have to do so eventually, but the longer he could go without it, the better.

Alhaitham never truly liked the Akasha, finding it useful when he couldn’t be bothered to look up information by himself but otherwise cumbersome due to the overwhelming onslaught of information it presented its users. Besides, ever since the Akasha provided him with incredibly incorrect translations of Snezhnayan texts as a student, he hadn’t trusted most of the information it listed without checking it himself.

He preferred to use it to locate better sources rather than using it as a source.

But these days, he couldn’t simply not wear the Akasha. Not in public, anyway. These days—although it was a recent development—members of the Corps of Thirty stopped people in the streets if they weren’t wearing the terminal. Even civilians with no connections to scholarship and the retired folk who wanted to live in peace had to wear the Akasha now.

This, Alhaitham knew, was Azar’s fault. The Grand Sage issued the order with fanfare proclaiming his generosity in providing every citizen, visitor, and refugee (not that there were many of those) in Sumeru with their very own Akasha Terminal. This would have been fine on its own, had it not come with the stipulation that the Akasha was now mandatory beyond just the halls of the Akademiya.

Alhaitham didn’t trust Azar. Nor did he trust (or like) the Corps of Thirty.

He still hadn’t gotten around to adjusting his opinion of them, especially after their failure to notice Sharzad’s kidnapping. It shouldn’t have been so easy for Gulnaz’s allies to sneak Sharzad out of Sumeru City and all the way to the desert without being intercepted.

But perhaps the Matra were to blame, too. They hadn’t noticed anything suspicious with regards to Bhaskara or Gulnaz. Nothing of value, anyway. Then Sharzad had been stolen away and forced to make two deals that endangered her life, all while dealing with her own doubts and fears about her fathers and her family.

He approached the city’s entrance, stopping only to secure his Akasha to his ear and turn it on. Upon recognizing him (no doubt with the Akasha’s aid), the Akademiya representatives stationed there nodded in his direction. Instead of activating his Akasha to know who they were, Alhaitham ignored them and went straight to the bazaar.

The usual cacophony of sounds, smells, and sights greeted him as he stepped into the crowded market. Spices from spice merchants and food stalls alike wove their way through the air, overriding any florals or perfumes unless he stood right next to the stalls selling flowers or incense. Sticking to the edge of the crowd, Alhaitham wove past merchants hawking wares and colourful tents meant to catch the eye and draw customers. He and Kaveh always frequented the same stalls, so there was no need to push through the centre of the crowd when he could avoid the worst of it by sneaking behind everything.

“How rare to see you without your beautiful husband, sir! Get kicked out?”

He hummed as he picked up a bottle of rosewater. “In a manner of speaking.”

The perfume merchant, a young man named Daniyal, leaned forward with a smile (Alhaitham only saw this out of the corner of his eye, as he was counting the Mora for his purchase). “Can I offer you anything to help you get back into his good graces? One of his favourites, perhaps? I’d be more than happy to show you which of my perfumes are his favourites.”

Alhaitham kept his face straight as the merchant kept talking about Kaveh (without ever mentioning his name because he knew Alhaitham would know who he was talking about).

Stay neutral. This is the person who makes Kaveh’s favourite perfumes. It doesn’t matter that he’s ranting about your husband like you don’t know a thing about his favourites. Kaveh will kick you to the couch if you do anything to lose him his discounts or the stall in its entirety.

Stay.

Neutral.

After all, Alhaitham was well aware of the perfumes his husband liked. He was almost too aware of it, actually, especially if you considered the other cosmetics, like hair oil and kohl, Kaveh used. If anything, Alhaitham could have picked out any product Kaveh used by scent alone.

“–this has been one of his regular purchases for two years, with notes of jasmine and gardenias. It’s one of my most popular perfumes, but I always keep a bottle on hand in case he shows up–”

Still keeping his tone (and expression) neutral, Alhaitham placed the handful of Mora he’d counted off on the stall’s counter. He cut across Daniyal’s ever-going rant. “I don’t need gifts to get into his good graces. Besides, he sent me here for groceries while he cleans the house.”

Daniyal blinked, but Alhaitham’s comment clearly didn’t faze him all that much. “Are you sure?” He winked. “I won’t tell him that it was my idea.”

Alhaitham gave him an unimpressed look before turning away. “Quite.”

~~~

The rest of the shopping trip went without incident, with most of the merchants simply inquiring about Kaveh’s whereabouts and, once hearing that he was cleaning the house, asked about Sharzad instead.

Alhaitham answered as succinctly and honestly as possible, relaying the bits and pieces he knew and reiterating what he and Kaveh had been saying in response to letting Sharzad go off on her own: that she was an accomplished, competent scholar and adventurer and that, as her fathers, neither would restrict her natural curiosity.

Unfortunately, this last little bit became a half-truth the moment Alhaitham had read the note his daughter left on the kitchen counter. He’d known that she’d be running off into potential danger (she’d made that clear when she first presented her idea), but he hadn’t expected the rush of sheer anxiety and fear for her safety he’d felt. And the guilt that by accepting her proposal, he had caused another overexertion-related coma.

At least Kaveh had been there to ease his fears.

“Alhaitham! I heard you were making your rounds.”

Roshni, the old woman who ran a fruit cart with her children, smiled warmly at him. In return, he nodded in her direction before turning his attention to the fruits that had caught his eye: Zaytun peaches.

It hadn’t been part of the plan to buy them, but Alhaitham had immediately realised that Sharzad must miss her favourite fruit and decided it might make her happy if he bought a few.

“I was, auntie.”

“About to head home, no doubt.” Roshni scoffed, but there was only playful annoyance in her words rather than any serious anger. “I see my wares caught your eye. Missing your daughter that much, eh? Never gets easier, I’m afraid.”

She had told Kaveh and Alhaitham about how her daughter moved to Liyue for work as soon as they announced that Sharzad was going to travel solo for a bit. Alhaitham found her advice to send letters every three days overkill, but Roshni did have some good advice related to coping with a child moving out.

Alhaitham still couldn’t believe that was a thing he had to deal with at the ripe old age of twenty-six.

“When’s she coming to visit, by the way? She can’t stay away forever, not when Sumeru is her home.”

Tonight.

“She has promised to return for my birthday,” he said as he mentally counted out how much the peaches would cost.

“Well, make sure to hold her to it.”

“Of course, auntie. I’ll just be taking five. As for the Mora . . .”

Roshni shot him an unimpressed look. “You know my price, Alhaitham. You’re lucky that your husband was there to negotiate it down six years ago.” The fruit seller put her hands on her hips. “And that your daughter eats her way through my peaches as fast as she does. Had she not moved to Mondstadt, I would have told you to build your own orchard to keep me from running out before other customers arrived!”

This drew a laugh from him. “I’ll keep that in mind. Here–” he handed her the Mora he’d counted. “–I’ll make sure to bring Sharzad around when she comes back to the city.”

“You have a nice day now. And run home: Anil said it would rain today, and his old bones have never been wrong.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

And, just as predicted, it began pouring halfway through the walk home. By the time he arrived, his clothes were dripping like he’d fallen in a river.

Within seconds of the door creaking open, Kaveh’s voice rang out in the house. “Stay on the porch! I’m bringing you a towel!”

Alhaitham stayed put as Kaveh raced through the house, arriving at the door with Mehrak floating next to him. The mechanical briefcase held several towels in its Dendro-powered tractor beam.

“Here, take off your boots and come inside—you look like a wet cat with your hair like that!”

Kaveh attacked him with a towel to the head, rubbing it back and forth over Alhaitham’s gray locks.

Sighing, Alhaitham kept his eyes closed to avoid getting poked by the towel. “I’m certain I don’t look like a cat , Kaveh. I would need ears and a tail, for that.”

“If we owned a cat and it got wet, it would look exactly like you do right now.” His husband withdrew the towel and gave him a long look. “You know what, never mind the towels. You’re going to change entirely, and we’ll wash all that tomorrow.” He took the cloth bags of groceries from Alhaitham’s hands. “Mehrak, you can set those towels on our bed. I’ll take care of them.”

So Alhaitham went upstairs and changed his clothes, returning downstairs just in time to see Kaveh washing the Zaytun peaches and placing them one-by-one in a bowl. He sneaked behind the blond, wrapping his arms around Kaveh’s waist and planting his chin on Kaveh’s shoulder.

“You dried off,” Kaveh commented approvingly. “How was the market?”

He dragged his fingers across his husband’s tanned chest (exposed by his rather low v-neck). “Busy.”

“Ha. What else is new?”

“Did you clean what you wanted to?”

“I still have a few things, but I thought about it once you were gone and I think you were right.”

“Oh? Do tell, senior,” Alhaitham all but purred.

“I was being excessive. I still want to clean, but–” Kaveh cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “–dusting the lights feels like overkill.”

Shifting slightly, Alhaitham nipped Kaveh’s shoulder. “All of it was overkill.”

“There was dust everywhere, and the blankets on the couch had coffee stains.”

“Overkill,” he mumbled directly into Kaveh’s skin.

His husband stuttered a short laugh before sending him to set up fresh blankets in the library.

~~~

It was still raining when the sound of the front door unlocking reached his ears.

Kaveh uncurled himself from Alhaitham’s side, intending to stretch before greeting Sharzad. He was going to be totally normal about seeing her again. He was definitely not going to act like an overbearing, clingy parent. Nope.

Normal.

“Uh, Dad? Papa?” Was her voice . . . higher than normal? “Do we have anything I can use to dry off?”

Oh, it’s just the question.

Huffing a laugh, Alhaitham squeezed Kaveh’s shoulder. “I’ll get some. I can see you vibrating with excitement.”

Kaveh didn’t even manage to thank his husband before racing towards the doorway. Fuck being calm and collected. Screw that.

Sharzad stood on the rug, clothes dripping with rainwater. Her hair was so soaked that its curls had turned flat and dark. Little rivulets of water slid down her face, while droplets flew off her hands as she took off her muddied shoes.

She was clearly engrossed in a conversation with Deshret, because her face was stuck in a frown and she was talking to herself.

“If Venti gives me the chance for a deal, I’m asking for meteorology so I know when it’s going to rain.” A pause as she pushed her wet sleeves up. “No, not stupid, Deshret. Useful. The most you can manage is sunlight—oh, hey Dad!”

Kaveh did his best not to melt into a puddle when her expression immediately shifted into a beaming smile.

“I’d hug you, but, um–” she gestured towards her soaked clothing, which Kaveh thought was an excellent point that he should ignore if Alhaitham didn’t show up in the next minute. “–I’m kind of soaking wet. And I can’t do anything about it.”

“Who knows, maybe one day you’ll meet the Hydro Archon and you’ll make a deal with her.”

A series of complicated emotions crossed Sharzad’s face. She snorted a laugh. “Yeah, sure. One day.”

You’re keeping secrets again. Was there something about the Hydro Archon that would make it impossible to make a deal with her? All Kaveh knew about Focalors was that she was quite the star in Fontaine, and that she lived more as a celebrity than a deity.

Alhaitham arrived with a stack of towels. “Here are the towels, Kaveh.”

“Thank you, azizam," Kaveh replied before, like he had with Alhaitham hours earlier, he attacked his daughter’s head with a towel.

“Dad! Hey! That’s not–” she giggled uncontrollably as he tickled a spot behind her ear. “–stop it!”

“Never. You’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get dry!” He gathered her still-dripping hair into a sort of ponytail and wrapped the towel around it to absorb some of the water. “Don’t tell me you traipse around Mondstadt looking like a wet cat.”

“I don’t!”

“I’d hope not, seeing as I raised you better. Once you’re somewhat dry, you’re going to change while I make us all chai.”

Her voice turned to a whine as Alhaitham began drying off the exposed parts of Sharzad’s arms. “I’m fine, Dad! I can do all this myself! And stop laughing, Deshret!”

“Limbs are all intact,” Alhaitham commented. “And your brand is gone.”

Kaveh tensed, yanking a bit too hard on Sharzad’s hair in the process. “It’s what?! ”

“ Ow! ”

A great warmth filled the room, as if the heat of the desert sun manifested within their home. Kaveh found the towel in his hands suddenly dissolving into sand . It cascaded through his fingers and formed a small golden pile on the floor as the water soaking his daughter hissed into steam, which rose above her body and disappeared. Golden light faded from her fingertips.

“Forgot I could do that,” Sharzad mumbled.

“You amended your deal,” Kaveh realised. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.” Her head turned sideways slightly. “That is highly insulting to his intelligence. He is an architect, not to mention Kshahrewar’s most distinguished graduate in years.” A pause. “I agree with Nabu—if it was meant to be a compliment, you missed the mark.”

Kaveh beamed, decidedly ignoring the implication that Deshret had insulted him. If one of the gods of Sumeru thought he was intelligent, he was going to take that as a win.

Considering Sharzad was dry now, he stepped around her so he could look her in the eye. “There. Now I can greet you properly.”

“You already said–” her breath hitched as Kaveh hugged her tightly, but she returned it nonetheless. “Yeah, hi.” Once Kaveh had let her go, she turned to Alhaitham. “Hi Papa.”

“Hi.” Alhaitham, for his part, inspected her clothing, nodding approvingly when it became clear that, yes, it had dried completely. Reaching forward, he readjusted her sleeves. “Where’s your cloak? I thought you said you were going to buy a warm one in Liyue Harbor.”

“I did. I just didn’t know it would be raining in Sumeru. And since my deal with Deshret, Mondstadt’s winds haven’t bothered me so much.” She sighed at the sight of Alhaitham’s raised eyebrows. “You want me to talk about the deal, don’t you?”

“We’d both like that, I think,” Kaveh said. “Not that we don’t trust you, but . . .”

Sharzad let out a defeated little sigh. “Deal with a god, I know. Same situation as the first time.” Her eyes flicked sideways for a second. “Would it—Deshret’s suggesting that he could talk to you guys. Through me. And I know you’ve never seen that before, but it might help?” she winced as her voice pitched upwards. “Maybe?”

We could talk to him?

Kaveh glanced at Alhaitham, who had already turned his attention to him. Sensing no immediate disapproval of the idea, he turned back to their daughter. “How does it work? Does it hurt?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt. And . . . all I have to do is give Deshret permission to take my body for a bit.”

It took Kaveh a second to internalise what Sharzad said. “Permission to take your—what?!”

“This is possession we’re talking about.” Sharzad dragged her fingers through her hair, sighed, and then dropped her arm. “You know what? Deshret, you’re good to go.”

Then, in the seconds it took Kaveh to panic, Sharzad’s expression—a sort of affectionate exasperation—shifted to a frown. Her spine straightened, posture shifting from casual and relaxed to a straight-backed, almost dangerous tenseness, like her muscles were coiled to spring at any moment.

And when she spoke . . . the wrongness of her tone, the shifts in her accent and speech pattern, and the sheer weight of authority and wisdom that imbued every word sent bile rising in his throat. It was familiar—the inhuman rumble accompanying every word reminiscent of Sharzad’s rampage in the Mausoleum—but it was so very wrong.

Like someone else was wearing his daughter’s skin. Which was, in essence, what had happened.

“Well, I must admit that it is a pleasure to speak to you both face-to-face.” She—no, Deshret—adjusted her shirt, then trained her–his eyes on Alhaitham and Kaveh in turn (wrong wrong wrong came the continued screaming of Kaveh’s brain. Even the look in her eyes was wrong). “Though you already know my identity, I suppose I shall introduce myself anyway. The people of your modern lands know me as Deshret or Al-Ahmar, God King of Sumeru and King of the Great Red Sand. I am known by many other titles, but for the sake of simplicity, I shall leave you with those two only.”

“How kind,” Alhaitham drawled. His arms were crossed. “Where is my daughter?”

Deshret’s amused smile looked too sharp and animalistic for Sharzad’s softer features. “You and the general are the same, I see. I am glad Sharzad has surrounded herself with mortals who care for her well-being.” Tapping his (her?) temple, Deshret explained, “Sharzad’s spirit has withdrawn to her mind. She is an observer to this conversation, but more importantly, she is safe, which I am certain is your main concern.” A low chuckle unsuited to Sharzad filled the air. “Rest assured, Sharzad made a vow to become my heir, and I intend to see her whole and unharmed when she is crowned queen.”

This was when Kaveh began to feel lightheaded.

Heir? Crowned?

Now, Kaveh was smart enough to understand what Deshret told him. He was smart enough to understand what this meant about Sharzad’s newest deal. So of course, he made an intelligent comment about his daughter’s new royal(?) status.

“She did what?!”

This prompted another laugh. “I see that we will be occupied for a while. It may be best to move somewhere more comfortable. Being seated will be conducive to this conversation.”

Chapter Text

QUEST

Family Dinner

Go to dinner with your fathers

By the time Kaveh brought tea in, Deshret had lazily draped Sharzad’s body on one of the couches and was entertaining Alhaitham’s questions about the Deshreti language. The language had all been lost to time, and all of its modern speakers were academics, all of whom based their pronunciation on descendant languages spoken by certain Eremites.

But having Deshret himself there gave Alhaitham a unique chance to answer some of the questions he’d been asking ever since he began learning Deshreti.

He made a mental note to ask Sharzad if he could have a longer conversation with Deshret about his language and his people. After all, Alhaitham despised not having all the answers, and here was a chance few scholars could ever hope for. An impossibility presented by his daughter.

The conversation drifted to a stop when Kaveh arrived. He passed Alhaitham his chai and sat next to him. “So, I guess you’ll be answering our questions?”

The third and final cup remained in front of Deshret, who didn’t reach out to take it. Instead, the god-king remained seated, leaning back on the couch as if it was a throne rather than a plush chair for reading in.

“Indeed. But in the name of saving time and breath, I shall answer the inevitable first: Sharzad made this deal the day she brought you her note. We conversed extensively beforehand, and I answered her questions and explained my powers to her.” Deshret gestured towards himself. “With my counsel, she selected three abilities of mine she wanted. In exchange, she swore to take the desert’s throne at some point in the future. I intend to prepare her to do so through dream lessons and practical ones.”

Alhaitham took a long sip of his tea to allow for a pause. “What are these three abilities? She demonstrated new power earlier, but I would like confirmation of what they are exactly.”

“She has inherited my authority over sands, heat, and solar energy,” the god-king replied easily.

“And they’re safe?” Kaveh asked. Noticing the nervous tapping of his foot, Alhaitham gently set his hand on his husband’s leg to soothe his nerves. “She won’t faint or die from the Divine energy?”

It was a concern both of them had. Between the dreadful minutes in the Mausoleum where both believed their daughter was dying and the most recent occurrence of Sharzad overloading her own body with elemental energy, Alhaitham and Kaveh had seen enough. Neither wanted to lose their daughter so soon, and despite Sharzad’s assurances that she wouldn’t die yet, it was still a real, horrifying possibility.

“I specifically worded the deal so that limitations exist. She is incapable of overexertion if she uses my abilities.”

“But—the Goddess of Flowers–”

“Nabu made her own deal. I do not believe she wishes to change it. That will depend on Sharzad’s control and impulsivity, however questionable they may be at the moment.” Deshret sighed. Though his posture remained constant, it looked like he’d suddenly become exhausted. “Before you come bursting back into your body, Sharzad, I would like to remind you that scarcely a week ago, you ran into a battle without a fully formed plan and then had to make a temporary deal with me in order to defeat an Abyss Herald.”

Alhaitham had no idea what an Abyss Herald was.

“Abyss Herald?” Kaveh echoed.

Clearly, Kaveh didn’t either.

The curl of Deshret’s upper lip—and the accompanying animalistic snarl—were completely out of place on Sharzad’s face. The room’s temperature rose a few uncomfortable degrees. “A foul, twisted creature of the Abyss. They are former humans reduced to monstrous husks wielding stolen elemental power.”

Alhaitham tightened his grip on Kaveh’s leg, but immediately relaxed at the sight of Kaveh’s answering wince. He took another long sip of his tea to steady himself before speaking.

“She used your power to defeat one?”

“You and I both agree that it was a rash move, Scribe.” Sighing, Deshret massaged his temples. “And although Sharzad usually has a modicum of forethought before making most of her choices, she avoided making this deal for far too long out of fear, and that resulted in a rushed deal in the middle of a battle.”

“Fear.”

Had Deshret spooked Sharzad earlier on? Had something happened to his daughter to drive her away from the possibility of making a deal? What concerned her so much to prevent her from making the deal? While Alhaitham did not appreciate the risk of wielding divine power in the first place, he could tell Deshret somewhat cared about safety where Sharzad was concerned.

Had he not made that clear to Sharzad?

If possible, Deshret’s posture straightened further. His gaze turned serious, brows furrowed. “I will not deny that the events related to what transpired in my Mausoleum severely traumatised your daughter. Even the mention of royal titles spooked her for quite some time. It is my understanding that part of her initial fear of making this deal stemmed from her trauma. The rest came from the weight and responsibility of future royal authority.”

“That’s the other thing. You made her your heir?!” Kaveh gestured wildly, voice rising in pitch and intensity. “In all due respect, she is a child, and I’m sure most people in the desert won’t trust her to rule them!”

Not to mention the general inexperience, the fact that Sharzad was a scholar, and also how Sharzad absolutely despised her politics classes when she studied at the Akademiya. She even wrinkled her nose at economics!

This wasn’t even considering what Alhaitham suspected was more than a simple aversion to any titles of nobility. The whole Queen of Vahumana issue clearly terrified Sharzad more than she let on, and though he hadn’t ever seen her reactions to mentions of the title, he overheard Akademiya students gossiping about how defensive she became if addressed as the Queen of Vahumana. Especially after the Mausoleum.

So, his daughter? A queen? Willingly?!

Alhaitham would have an easier time believing that Azar had a change of heart and became an actor.

But Deshret didn’t seem to agree with Kaveh’s statement, nor with the words left unsaid. “I had two years to consider this, Light of Kshahrewar. My people have suffered for generations, and unfortunately, I am incapable of communicating with the living unless Sharzad gives me permission to use her body.” The Scarlet King paused, taking a long, slow breath, before continuing on. His voice took on a softer note. “Yet, if I were to be honest, your daughter is extremely well-suited to my crown. Though I am loath to offer her praise for fear of inflating her ego, she is fiercely intelligent, curious, and, though it is tempered by her impulsivity, wise.” Sighing, he crossed his arms. “And though her flaws are . . . obvious at times, I must commend you both for raising her the way you did. Despite her age, she is self-aware and conscientious. Her concerns about taking my crown stemmed in part from a feeling of inadequacy, and that acknowledgement of her unreadiness is one I would be hard-pressed to find among my own people. She is . . . humble. That is thanks to you.”

Kaveh let out a little gasp. For his part, Alhaitham merely closed his eyes and internalised as much of the Red Lord’s words as he could.

It would be high praise from any deity, but especially so when coming from the desert god. The literature from his times always portrayed Deshret as either the mad king or as a god so intelligent that he would refuse to be in the vicinity of people he deemed harebrained.

Yet he commended Sharzad’s intelligence and Alhaitham and Kaveh’s parenting. Why? Was it purely to secure Kaveh and Alhaitham’s approval of the deal? Was it even genuine? Could they trust a long-dead deity when it was bound to their daughter’s soul?

Or, how far could a pair of humans trust a god? Gods weren’t trusted— they were worshipped. Putting any sort of faith in Deshret’s words as if he was simply human would be antithetical to his very being.

Deshret chuckled into the silence, head turned to address an unseen individual. Affection overtook the king’s voice as he spoke. “Do you think so, Nabu?” Another pause. “Very well, my lily.”

“I take it the Goddess of Flowers would also like some time?” Alhaitham asked.

“No. She is simply reminding me that it would be best to return Sharzad to her body within the next few minutes.”

Kaveh sat up. “Is she in danger?”

“Not yet. But Nabu is right that this was meant to be an evening for Sharzad. I have taken up enough of your time with her.” Without waiting for a response, Deshret dipped his head. “Until we meet again.”

And with that, Sharzad’s body slumped backwards into the couch as if she’d been knocked out.

Alhaitham immediately handed Kaveh his tea and then vaulted over the coffee table to get to their daughter’s side. Kaveh set both mugs on the table, then joined Alhaitham just as Sharzad began to move.

“Ugh. I hate that feeling,” Sharzad’s voice was hoarse, but besides that, she appeared to be fine, if a little disoriented. Her mouth twisted into a grimace. “Jeez, Deshret, why are you so tense all the time?” A pause. “Yeah, I know you just complimented me. Thank you, by the way, it was really unexpected.”

Alhaitham agreed completely with this. Especially when, unprompted, Deshret praised his and Kaveh’s parenting, too.

“That would be an understatement.” Kaveh’s voice shook slightly as he reached for Sharzad’s hand. She squeezed it without hesitating. “Are you alright?”

Another grimace, but Sharzad sat up anyway. “As fine as I can be. I don’t exactly make a habit of that.”

“Good, because that’s creepy.”

“Like someone else is wearing your skin,” Alhaitham added.

“Ew.” Sharzad tilted her head in a sort of half-nod. “But accurate, I guess.” Swaying slightly, she stood, completely ignoring the support Alhaitham offered her. “So, what’s for dinner?”

Kaveh stood, too, hands on his hips as he stared down his daughter. “Biryani, and then you’re going to explain exactly why you think becoming a queen is a good idea.”

~~~

To Sharzad’s credit, she did answer Kaveh’s question, albeit in a ranting, roundabout kind of way. She explained Deshret’s side of things—how the desert fell apart in his absence, how his people fragmented and argued about theology rather than banding together and preserving their lands, how he wanted to restore the desert of his time—and how she believed that it might aid her in the long run.

“Being his heir might make it easier for me to seek out other gods to make deals with. Deshret also promised combat training among the other lessons, so I’ll have another weapon in my arsenal in case I need it.”

To demonstrate said other weapon, Sharzad abandoned her half-eaten biryani and walked a few paces from the table. A polearm appeared in her outstretched hand, one end tipped with gold and the other with three beaded strings hanging from the other end. A flail. Deshret’s flail.

Sharzad called it Sunfire’s Scourge.

“So, to summarize, this is because Deshret’s people are suffering and because of the help in finding other gods. The power itself is–”

The weapon in her hands vanished. “Secondary, yes. I did not do this just for more divine power.”

Kaveh took a long, slow breath in the hopes of steeling himself. This was not the time to raise his voice. “But it’s still a throne, and you’re much too young–”

“–with hope, I won’t have to take it for a while. The heir thing will be enough.”

“You didn’t want authority in the Akademiya,” Alhaitham reminded her.

Golden eyes narrowed into a little glare as Sharzad sat down again. “I’m well aware, Papa. But this time, I actually consented to it. Deshret wouldn’t have asked me to become his heir if I hadn’t come around to the idea.”

“Does this include a title?”

“I–” Sharzad’s brows furrowed. She stared at her biryani like it contained the answer. “–I don’t–” she raised her head. “–does it, Deshret?”

Whatever the Scarlet King’s answer was, it surprised her (if the little gasp she let out and the rapid, wide-eyed blinking were any indication).

“He hasn’t thought about it,” she told them. “Says that the line of succession was never a problem when he was alive, so nothing was ever set in stone.”

Alhaitham hummed. “Meaning it’s a yes.”

“Probably.” Taking a bite of her biryani, Sharzad let out a pleased little hum. “I can’t believe one month was enough to make me miss your cooking, Dad.”

Kaveh frowned at her, which honestly wasn’t much of a change from his previous expression. “The food in Mondstadt was good the last time I went. Has the dragon crisis affected them that much?”

“No. I just miss . . . this.” She gestured towards the half-empty bowl of biryani sitting in the centre of the dinner table. “Comfort food. And Sumerian spices. A lot of the food in Mondstadt is good, but it’s not your cooking.”

“You can take some of the leftovers with you," Kaveh offered immediately. "And ingredients you can’t find in Mondstadt—rice, Harra spices, shrimp, glabrous beans–”

Alhaitham shot him a look. “At this point, I might as well buy groceries again, Kaveh.”

“It’s for your daughter! Couldn’t you have a little bit of concern for the fact that she misses home?”

“I’m not opposed to giving her the leftovers, but I’m not about to redo the groceries.”

He crossed his arms. “There’s stuff she can’t get in–”

A large banging noise cut him off: Sharzad had set a large bag of rice on the table.

Kaveh began feeling lightheaded again. He thought he’d cleared most of it by making chai earlier, but clearly he was still able to be shocked to near-fainting.

Where did she get that?!

She winced at the noise. “Sorry, that was harder than I meant it to be.”

Gaping, Kaveh watched his husband’s eyes widen and then narrow again as he attempted to process what happened.

Eventually, Alhaitham raised an eyebrow at Sharzad. “You’ve been hiding more abilities, I see.”

“It’s part of the System, so no, not new. It’s called the Inventory.”

She reached forward and tapped several invisible things until a half-transparent blue . . . rectangle flickered to life in front of her. Suppressing a shiver at the memory of a similar rectangle manifesting over Sharzad’s body in the Mausoleum, Kaveh watched Sharzad turn the rectangle towards Alhaitham so he could read whatever was written on it.

From Kaveh’s viewpoint (reversed since he sat across the table from his husband), he could make out several rows of small boxes stacked on top of one another. Each of the boxes had a little drawing of plants, stones, and other items he couldn’t identify.

“I’ve been stockpiling materials I come across,” Sharzad explained. “They’re stored inside this Inventory until I need to use them.”

She turned the glowing box towards Kaveh so he could read the text under each little box.

Rice: 9896

Coffee Beans: 9952

Zaytun Peach: 9998

“You have—Sharzad, where does all of this go? How did you manage to acquire nearly ten thousand bags of coffee beans?!” He scanned the list, finding that many items, mostly those common around Teyvat or common in Sumeru, were near the ten thousand mark. “How did you manage to acquire any of this stuff?! It must have cost–”

“A fortune?” The bag of rice disappeared; Kaveh watched the number of bags of rice jump to 9897. “Simple: I make about seventeen thousand Mora a day on Adventurers’ Guild commissions alone, not to mention the rewards I’ve stockpiled from other System-related stuff. Most of these items are either free if you can find them in the wild or cost under 120 Mora apiece in the shops only I have access to. So I buy out their stock every day and stop once I max out the Inventory’s capacity.” She took a breath. “Which is about ten thousand per item.”

“What about the things that rot?” Alhaitham asked. “Or otherwise degrade over time?”

His voice had a little tilt to it that indicated he was entirely fascinated by the subject. Kaveh would be a liar if he didn’t admit that he, too, was curious about this. If the food was preserved and Kaveh figured out how to replicate the mechanism in real life, it could solve so many problems related to food waste! Only people with Cryo Visions (or consistent access to ice) could preserve food longer than a few days.

Sharzad shrugged. “All I could tell you is that it’s stuck in stasis or something. Lots of these things were accumulated in the past two years—after I started doing commissions for the Guild, obviously—and none of the stuff I’ve used has gone bad.” The display in front of Kaveh flickered, then vanished. “So, yeah, no need to worry, Dad. I have enough supplies to make the food if I feel like it. My point was that I missed your cooking specifically.”

Leaning back in his chair, Alhaitham crossed his arms. “And mine?”

Kaveh rolled his eyes fondly at his husband. In response, Alhaitham’s gaze bounced from Sharzad to Kaveh and back for a few moments.

“She inherited your attitude, I see,” the scribe commented before taking a sip of his wine.

“. . . you! What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Only that she rolls her eyes the same way you do, dearest.”

Sharzad sighed, clearly annoyed by the sudden change in conversation. “Yes, Papa, I also miss your cooking.”

The next mouthful of her food was clearly a sign that she wanted to drop the topic, but the way she avoided her fathers’ gazes and the darkening of her cheeks indicated that she was embarrassed rather than truly annoyed by the comparisons.

Kaveh wondered if he should bring up how, when she was younger, she unconsciously copied Alhaitham’s stance, complete with the crossed arms. This certainly wasn’t the first time someone noticed how Sharzad adopted some of her parents’ mannerisms—she’d been doing it for years.

He decided against the teasing when Sharzad casually brought up some terrifying new information.

“I met Barbatos, by the way. Y’know, the Anemo Archon.”

The ensuing silence was so thick that Kaveh could have cut it with a knife and then spread it over bread for some awkward additional flavour.

An Archon. Of course it was an Archon. At this point, why should he even be surprised? One month into her travels and his daughter had fought the Abyss, interacted with a dragon, saved the city of Mondstadt, and become the heir to the deceased king of the desert. Meeting an Archon was nothing.

I am two seconds away from a mental breakdown, he thought furiously as he took a long, long drink of wine. Maybe he should just ground her and see if that would keep her from chaos. Assuming she wouldn’t just dissolve the entire house into sand in response and then seek out chaos anyway. Assuming she was the one seeking chaos and not the other way around.

“Next time, I would like you to start with that kind of information,” Alhaitham said slowly. A clear sign that he was taken aback by the revelation. “How did you meet him? Or when?”

“Technically I met his alter ego in a tavern, but the next morning he came by to meet with Deshret on official terms. And by ‘came by’ I mean that he flew to my window and knocked on it until I woke up.” The way her brows knitted together gave Sharzad a distinctly disgruntled expression (Kaveh found this adorable but decided not to comment on it. Nor did he comment on the Archon basically breaking into her room at the inn). “He goes by Venti these days, and he masquerades as a drunkard bard rather than contributing to Mondstadt’s governance.”

Alhaitham hummed thoughtfully. “It fits the ideal of freedom, I suppose.”

“I guess.” Sharzad shrugged. “I honestly think you’d get along with him, Dad. The guy composes poetry like you dream up new projects.”

A little huffing sound (definitely a laugh) escaped Alhaitham. “Meaning every time he takes a breath.”

This managed to break Kaveh from his silent stupor. “Hey! My projects are why we have this house!”

“Your projects are also why every time we go out to eat, you end up using my napkins. Because you cover yours with sketches.”

Kaveh crossed his arms. “An artist can get ideas anywhere, Haitham.”

Alhaitham, the bastard, had the gall to smirk at Kaveh. “I’m well aware, dearest.”

It took Kaveh a second to process what his husband was implying.

Is this because of–

He clapped his hand over his mouth in the hopes of covering some of his flushing face and, upon realising that this did nothing, instead took it upon himself to clear the emptied plates instead. Where he could hide his face.

Did Alhaitham seriously reference the few occasions that Kaveh had drawn him directly after they had sex? In front of their teenage daughter?! In front of their teenage daughter who had no business knowing about their intimacy or the suggestive (or fully nude) sketches of Alhaitham hidden in a locked compartment of their dresser?

(In Kaveh’s defense for why he drew Alhaitham at those specific moments, it was because his husband was a beautiful specimen of a man and Kaveh was struck by inspiration on numerous occasions, okay?)

Once his blush faded to a level that could be blamed on his wine, Kaveh returned to the table with the fereni and pointedly ignored Alhaitham.

When the food was eaten, Kaveh packed a large container of the leftover biryani, handing it to Sharzad as soon as she put her shoes on. She explained earlier that she had to get to Mondstadt before a friend of hers suspected she had entirely left the city, and while Kaveh was sad to see her leave so soon, he didn’t want her to expose her abilities to anyone else. Alhaitham was right: each new person who knew their daughter’s secrets added another danger to her safety.

“I’ll be back in a month,” Sharzad promised. “And maybe actually bring you some books this time, Papa.”

Alhaitham, for his part, simply pressed a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head. “I’d rather you bring a coat than any books. I don’t want you to get sick from walking in the rain.”

Sharzad answered this with an eye roll. “Yes, Papa.”

“Don’t sass me.”

“I did no such thing.” She blinked innocently at Kaveh. “Right, Dad?”

Instead of replying, Kaveh crushed her in a hug and, when he stepped back, tucked her hair behind her ear. “I want more messages if things go down the chaotic route,” he told her firmly. “And please add more detail than the last one.”

“Of course.”

“And make sure you keep eating well. Stay away from alcohol–”

A huff. “Already doing that.”

“–tell Deshret and Nabu Malikata that they’d better keep an eye on your health so you don’t go into a coma for three months–”

“They can hear you, Dad.”

“–use your Mora responsibly instead of buying out nonexistent shops–”

Sharzad waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah.”

“–and remember that we’re here for you if you need anything. Whether that’s someone to talk to or some fatteh to make you feel less homesick.”

At this, Sharzad stopped groaning. She beamed at both her fathers. “I know. Love you guys.”

Alhaitham leaned in to kiss her head again. “We love you too.”

“Stay safe,” Kaveh added with a smile.

Sharzad nodded, then reached forward to tap something invisible. Two seconds later, she vanished. The only trace of her having been there in the first place was the slight depressions in the carpet left over from her feet.

Kaveh basked in the moment for all of two seconds before whirling towards his husband.

“You little shit. What was the point of referencing our sex life out in the open like that— hmphhh!”

Alhaitham swallowed his words with a biting kiss, crowding him into the nearest wall. Fighting back a slew of rather embarrassing noises, Kaveh groped for something to hold on to, eventually settling on his husband’s shirt just as his knees began to stop working.

The couple separated only when the need for air became too strong, faces mere inches from one another.

Alhaitham smirked again. “I did nothing of the sort, Kaveh. Are you so pent up that your mind flew straight to our intimate moments?”

He bent his head to press a line of kisses down Kaveh’s neck, pausing on occasion to suck bruising marks into his skin.

Kaveh groaned in response. “Considering how loudly you were moaning my name –hah– two nights ago, I’m sure you know that’s a lie.”

Still, Kaveh leaned his head back and allowed his husband to have his way with him. Something told him he'd be sketching yet again by the time the night was over, and he wanted to savour every moment he had before he lost the ability to walk straight the next day.

Chapter Text

QUEST

After the Storm

Go and check for crystal ore in Stormterror's Lair (0/3)

Sunfire’s Scourge still felt unbalanced in her hands, although it was probably because she’d had a total of about fifteen hours of training with the damned thing. Still, Deshret demanded that she use it for lower stakes battles, and killing a group of common hilichurls definitely fell in the “lower stakes” category.

She and Aether (plus Paimon, obviously) had left the city early that morning after getting some breakfast and a few commissions from the Adventurers’ Guild. They’d been doing commissions together ever since she’d returned from Sumeru, spending their mornings and early afternoons doing work before splitting up for a break and, in Sharzad’s case, a lesson with Deshret.

Or, they usually did. But for the past two days, they’d been roped into two long World Quests. One involved the sword cemetery in Dadaupa Gorge, and the other a short quest on the outskirts of Dragonspine that made Sharzad realise that she wanted to wait for Liyue before setting foot on that damned mountain again.

So, instead, she grabbed Aether and dragged him off to the area still known as Stormterror’s Lair. Wagner (a blacksmith) needed some ore, Aether needed something to keep himself busy, and Sharzad wanted to meet Dvalin. It was a win-win.

She groaned after sending one of the hilichurls falling over the edge of the stone bridge.

“I am so done with this place.”

They had collected crystal chunks from the three locations Wagner marked on Aether’s map, and unfortunately, Dvalin still hadn’t shown up. And now, Aether had decided to bring her to the Statue of the Seven halfway up the spire at the centre of the walled city.

In the process, Sharzad was subjected to an endless loop of the background music of Stormterror’s Lair only occasionally broken by the battle themes of Mondstadt. Why? Because she wanted a warning if either a) Dvalin showed up or b) some enemy popped up out of nowhere.

The battle theme abruptly shifted back to the calmer background music. Aether drew his sword (that stupid Dull Blade she was going to replace within the week) back from the now-disintegrated samachurl and turned towards her.

Wind blew his blond braid in a diagonal line behind his head as he smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I am used to it,” she grumbled. “How much further?”

He pointed up a series of cracking walls covered with the brown branches of dead ivy. On the highest of these platforms was the Statue of the Seven, along with a wind current leading towards the spire.

“Fantastic.”

They started walking anyway, Paimon floating between Aether and Sharzad.

“You’re so grumpy today, Sharzad! Why’s that?”

Because I’ve been hearing the same three three minute songs on repeat for the past two hours, Paimon.

Obviously, Sharzad couldn’t tell Paimon this, because it would mean explaining the background music stuff and the System as a whole. She didn’t want to do either, especially not so early in the journey. She had no idea how long Aether’s travels actually took, but if it was going to be at least a year or two, she wanted to wait and see if Aether would tell her more about himself.

Maybe then she could share the truth about her own . . . displacement.

When they arrived at the set of walls, Aether offered a small boost to help Sharzad climb to the statue. In response, she breathed in, snapped her fingers, and summoned a maple tree directly under her feet. The rapid growth of the plant meant that all she had to do was cling to its trunk and wait for the tree to stop growing.

Once she stood at the top of the wall, she leaned over the edge to call to Aether and Paimon. “Are you going to join me?”

The Traveler grabbed Paimon and held her to his chest, before leaping into the air with three powerful Anemo-boosted jumps. Seeing that he didn’t need the tree, Sharzad snapped her fingers again and made the tree wither and die.

“That’s scary!” Paimon exclaimed. “Can you do that to any tree?”

“I guess? But it’s not as reactive as Deshret’s powers so it’s not as much of a problem.” She turned towards the Statue of the Seven and after a moment’s pause, approached it.

~The World Opens Itself to Those with Noble Hearts~

Another location unlocked on her map. Wonderful.

And at the same time, Aether had jumped in the air current and flown right towards the spire.

“Come and join us!” Paimon yelled, her high-pitched voice half-lost to the winds still blowing around the ruined citadel. “Mondstadt looks really pretty from the top of the spire!”

Sharzad pulled out her glider immediately, and after taking a breath to steady herself, leapt into the air so she could join her friends.

“Careful!” Nabu Malikata exclaimed halfway through Sharzad’s flight. “These currents may be unstable!”

“Noted.”

Stumbling through her landing made Aether snort in amusement. Sharzad sighed in (mock) exasperation, before waving in the Traveler’s direction. Several feverfew flowers sprouted in his braid and in the hair framing his face. He yelped and picked one of the blooms out of his braid.

“You left the roots in?!” he groaned.

“It’s just a minor inconvenience.”

Aether looked like he disagreed. On the other hand, Paimon didn’t even seem to realise it.

“Those are such pretty flowers! Can Paimon have some?”

Sharzad obliged the innocent request, raising a hand to spawn some violets in the pixie’s hair–

Skill Godsense , activated. Divine presence detected.

She froze.

The winds, which had mostly been on the fainter end as far as winds went, picked up suddenly. Movement from the sky—which Sharzad could only see clearly through the opening she’d arrived through—showed a teal-coloured figure. She tensed immediately, waiting to draw her weapon but ready to do so in case this turned into a hostile situation.

Dvalin the dragon landed by the Statue of the Seven with all the grace of a dragon of Anemo. His claws barely even scratched the stone as he turned to gaze expectantly at Sharzad, who was still standing on the edge of the spire a few metres above him

“Sorry, Paimon. That’s going to have to wait.”

Choosing the smart decision instead of the stupid one, Sharzad put on her glider and jumped right back down to the statue. She landed with much less grace than the dragon, wobbling slightly as she attempted to regain her balance.

The dragon was much, much bigger up close. His head alone towered maybe five or six metres above her, his eyes bright spots the colour of Anemo energy that glowed brightly in the muted sunlight. While his feathery body appeared like a bird, the majority of his four wings glowed brightly with the same energy as his eyes. His feet were scaled like a bird’s, and his claws were long and sharp. She could probably use one as a short sword, they were so large.

“Hi,” Sharzad managed despite her sudden impression that she was tiny and weak and completely insignificant. To make herself feel better, she created a flower crown—most of it composed of yellow poppies; however, unlike her recent uses of Nabu’s power, she was greeted by the weight of horns growing from her skull.

This was the first time it happened without Nabu possessing her, and Sharzad was left panicking wondering why it happened now. Was it her fear of being squashed like a fly under the dragon’s talons? A sense that she needed to look more impressive than she was?

Why now?

“Greetings, little one.” Dvalin shuffled back, lowering his head so he was at eye-level with Sharzad. “I heard your call on the wind.”

She straightened her spine in the hopes of looking a little less afraid (both of Dvalin and the horns reappearing). “I didn’t call you.”

“Not on purpose,” Deshret added. He had summoned a spear with an end similar to Cyno’s, and was using it more as a ceremonial staff than a weapon. “She has done the same to others. It is not her fault.”

Dvalin turned his head slightly, setting his gaze on Deshret and Nabu. The Goddess of Flowers had joined her husband, although she held no weapon and seemed rather relaxed.

“Hello.” A short huff escaped the dragon’s snout. “Who are you?”

“No one that concerns–”

“Please excuse my husband,” Nabu said. “He is quite defensive of our mortal.” Stepping forward, she gave a short bow to the dragon. “I am Nabu Malikata, known to Sumeru as the Goddess of Flowers and Oases, and its former God-King. This is Deshret, the King of the Great Red Sand and also former God-King of Sumeru.”

“Since when am I your mortal?” Sharzad asked, choosing to ignore the horns for the time being.

When Nabu turned to look at her, she had a single eyebrow raised, and her arms were crossed. “Must I really tell you? You are intelligent enough to know.”

“Huh. Didn’t take you as the possessive type, Nabu.” Before Dvalin could get annoyed at being ignored, Sharzad turned back to him. “My name is Sharzad. I’m . . . well, a scholar from Sumeru.”

“What she fails to mention are her other titles.” Deshret cleared his throat. “This is Sharzad, Dastur of the Vahumana, Honorary Knight of Favonius, Envoy of the Scorned Gods, and Crown Princess of the Great Red Sand. My heir.”

Sharzad’s throat seized. Deshret hadn’t discussed this with her, and he hadn’t acknowledged the whole heir thing to anyone besides her fathers. The conditions of her deal felt unexpectedly more real, no longer a faraway goal but a true, tangible reality. It was lucky Deshret hadn’t mentioned the whole Queen of Vahumana thing, because that would have caused her panic to evolve into a full panic attack.

That’s me. Holy shit. A princess. What the fuck.

To call it surreal would be an understatement.

A rumble echoed in Dvalin’s throat, either a sound of amusement or a threat. “I see. You have quite the burden to bear, little princess.”

Somehow, Sharzad’s brain short circuited even further.

The dragon adjusted his stance so that he was bowing towards her rather than preventing her from straining her neck. “I am Dvalin, the East Wind. Flesh and blood of Nidhogg, Sovereign of Anemo.”

The Sovereign’s kid or . . . or something.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Still, Dvalin continued to speak. “I suppose you did not mean to call me, did you?”

“No. It’s a–a function of what I am. Where I came from.” She held her hands out in front of her. “It means you can make a deal with me. And that, in exchange for fulfilling my end of the bargain, I receive something in return.”

Wings flaring out, Dvalin growled. “Do you seek my power, little one?”

Sharzad took a moment to consider how to reply. Power in of itself certainly wasn’t her end goal. If it was, she would have been seeking out every deity on Teyvat. She would probably have the power of dozens of gods by now. No. Power wasn’t the pressing issue, but it was the key to future survival. Even with Nabu’s full power and a decent chunk of Deshret’s, it wouldn’t be enough for the divine wars in Teyvat’s future. It wouldn’t be enough to guarantee her survival, and she wanted to survive.

“I seek whatever you can offer me,” she said after a time. “As long as your terms are reasonable.”

Dvalin turned his head so he could stare directly at her. It was rather like a pigeon turning its head so it could fix a single beady eye on your face. For some reason, Sharzad didn’t think Dvalin would be pleased at the comparison.

“Terms . . .”

“They do not have to be complex.” Nabu held her hands out in front of her, palms up. She moved them up and down like they were parts of a scale. “It must simply be an exchange. A favour for a favour. Power for a quest.”

The dragon maintained his silence for the next thirty seconds or so. Guessing he was deep in thought, Sharzad let him be. Disturbing him might do more harm than good, after all.

“An interesting, if unfamiliar, suggestion,” Dvalin said finally. “But perhaps you may be able to help me.”

“A task?”

The dragon’s wings opened again, but this time, it felt like a stretch, not a sign of aggression. “There is a wine, one produced by Dawn Winery, which Barbatos recently complained became unattainable to him. I would procure bottles of it myself, but unfortunately, the humans of Mondstadt are still wary of me.”

NEW QUEST

Nectar of the Gods

Go to Dawn Winery and convince Diluc to give you a few bottles of The Dawn’s Nectar

Sharzad did her best not to sigh. A fetch quest. She hated those.

But Dvalin wasn’t finished. “In exchange, I will grant you a blessing: that no matter how high you fall, the East Wind will always be present to catch you and slow your descent. I have a feeling you will need it in the future.”

“How astute, Dvalin. I am certain she will need it with how often she throws herself into danger.”

“Deshret!” Sharzad exclaimed (she did not whine). She didn’t throw herself into danger! Not as often as Deshret was insinuating, anyway. Why the heck would he even say such a thing?!

“Not to mention when you inherit my full power and transformations. You are well aware that the falcon imagery of my helm is more than a meaningless symbol.” Deshret walked around her so he could look her in the eye. “When the time is right, I intend to teach you to fly.”

~~~

As the winter months set in, Diluc spent less time out in the vineyards and more time in his office or in the cellar beneath his home. A delicate frost had begun covering the world scarcely a week earlier, which signalled the time to mulch the roots of the grapevines to shield them. Within days, most of the gardening staff took care of everything, and the last of the temporary workers returned home for the colder months.

“We’ll get snow within the week, if you ask me, Master Diluc,” Tunner warned him before he, too, left for his home. “We’re lucky we even had a week to get everything done this year.”

Diluc agreed. “Stormterror kept the winds at bay for far too long. Send word if you need extra fuel for your hearth. The Knights are liable to keep Guy occupied all season, especially after the Abyss invasion.”

Soon, the Dawn Winery manor assumed its winter atmosphere, where the greatest activity happened in the cellar and Diluc spent almost every cold day in his office. However, unlike most winters, Diluc had more than just winery business to take care of: his contacts in Sumeru had sent back a report, and he had quite the file to look through. Files, actually, including peer-reviewed academic papers, a few short interviews, and a news article about something considerably more horrifying than Diluc would have ever expected.

Researchers Convicted of Attempted Human Sacrifice Sentenced

“Master Diluc?” Elzer’s telltale knock—two sharp taps on his office door—interrupted Diluc’s reading. “You have a few visitors. Shall I send them in?”

“I had no meetings planned today,” he replied, keeping his eyes fixed to the paper in front of him. The paper describing the attempted sacrifice of a child, and although Sharzad herself wasn’t named, the ages lined up, as did the course of study in the Akademiya and several other minute details that couldn’t only be coincidences.

This article was probably about her.

“The one in the lead says her name is Sharzad, sir, that she and the others are Honorary Knights of Favonius.”

How convenient.

Diluc took a long, slow breath. Perhaps this would allow him to answer his burning questions. The ones spurred by the pile of papers on his desk.

“Send her in.”

Within two seconds, the door to his office burst open, and in walked the brown-haired girl responsible for his current headache, with the Traveler and Paimon a step behind. The horns had returned to the girl’s head, accompanied by a circlet of yellow flowers, which stood out against the brown of her hair.

“Good afternoon.” Instead of standing, Diluc offered the trio a curt nod. “To what do I owe the visit?”

“Hey, Diluc!” Sharzad replied cheerfully. “I need some nectar.”

He blinked. “Nectar? You’d have a better chance looking in a flower shop for that.”

Assuming she couldn’t extract it from flowers herself. Seeing as the spirit that possessed her was the Goddess of Flowers, she likely could.

“No. Nectar. The Dawn’s Nectar or whatever that wine is called. Preferably several bottles. For Barbatos.”

Diluc tried in vain to process this. She wanted wine. The expensive, premium wine made from plums every five years. The only plum wine Dawn Winery produced with a recipe so secret that only three people knew it at any given time (including the winery’s owner). For . . . Barbatos?

“I am not giving you alcohol.”

“It’s a gift for your god.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re underage.”

Sharzad scoffed. “Trust me, I don’t want to try alcohol any time soon.”

Good. But Diluc still didn’t trust her. “Can you prove it’s for Barbatos?”

“I can confirm that it is.” The Traveler spoke more quietly than most people Diluc had ever met, and yet his voice carried through the room anyway. “We met Dvalin at his nest, and he–”

“Made a bargain.” Sharzad walked forward until she stood on the other side of his desk. “With me.”

Sighing, Diluc closed his eyes. “The . . . dragon told you to get several bottles of my winery’s finest product.”

“Trust me, I hate fetch quests, but here we are. I’ll pay for them myself, if money’s the . . . issue.”

Eyes like molten gold narrowed at the sight of the newspaper on Diluc’s desk. He didn’t make a move to cover it, choosing to wait and see whether she’d bring it up or not. He watched her carefully, taking note of how a dozen micro-expressions crossed her face within a few seconds.

“Helios, Paimon.” She turned away from him. “Could I trouble you to step out for a few minutes?”

Diluc couldn’t tell if the concern on the Traveler’s face was for Sharzad or for him.

“Wouldn’t it be better for us to stay here?” Paimon asked.

“No. Trust me, Paimon. I can handle this.”

The Traveler, for his part, eyed Diluc with a little more concern than the Pyro allogene felt necessary. Or, perhaps not. The last time he had been alone with the girl, she proceeded to get possessed by a . . . a goddess (demon, really) who threatened to eviscerate him. Perhaps—perhaps the fear for his safety was justified.

“If I hear any suspicious noise, I’m coming back in.”

And then he grabbed Paimon by the cape and left the room.

Sharzad turned back to Diluc, and this time, she looked calm. Collected. Hands on her hips, she raised an expectant eyebrow. “You’ve been doing research.”

“Can you blame me?”

This drew a laugh. “No, not one bit. But you know, that article doesn’t even mention me by name. Whoever brought you this must be well informed.” She paused, tilting her head. “Hmm, a merchant, perhaps? I know my father’s a sucker for some Dandelion Wine on a nice spring evening.”

He vaguely remembered what she’d told him at their first meeting. They were a scribe and an architect. “Which one would this be?”

“The architect. ‘Course, Papa drinks too, but he doesn’t care about flavour half as much as Dad does.” She shrugged. “I don’t get it, but y’know, I’m not about to get into alcohol.”

“But you want three bottles of the Dawn’s Nectar.”

“A good amount.” Shifting her weight, Sharzad crossed her arms. “Like I said, it’s for Dvalin, but he’s making a gift for Barbatos.”

Diluc shifted the papers on his desk, pulling out several academic papers he’d been given. Every one’s subject varied from analyses of Snezhnayan social history to a co-written report on some archaeological dig in Sumeru.

“You wrote every single one of these?”

After reading the titles, Sharzad scoffed. “What, you want to interrogate me?”

“You’ll get the wine afterwards,” he promised. Though it was against his better judgement, the threats from that goddess were still fresh enough to get him to aid her. “If you answer my questions, I’ll take it as a sign to trust you, and I’ll give you three bottles of Dawn’s Nectar.”

The girl remained silent for a short while, as if she was internally debating whether or not to take up his offer. Then, somehow, she nodded, and collapsed into one of the wooden chairs he kept on the other side of his desks for visitors. “Fine. But I’m also paying you fairly for the bottles. And, yes, I did write—or co-write—all of those.”

Nodding, Diluc swapped out those papers for the few left over. It was a smaller collection, which had only been amassed because their authors had surnames that matched Sharzad’s.

“I take it some of these authors are your family, then?”

Taking them from him, she scanned the various authors, pausing after each with a small hum. Every so often, her eyes would widen with surprise, but she wouldn’t show any other reaction.

“Okay, so these here–” she handed Diluc two architectural papers and one on linguistics. “–Kaveh Athari is my father. As is Alhaitham Taftazani.” Meaning the linguist was the scribe. “Honestly, I’m surprised you don’t have anything on the Palace of Alcazarzaray. Dad’s pretty proud of it, and most of Sumeru is, too. Which is fair.”

Diluc had definitely heard of the aforementioned palace. In fact, one of the other things his merchant contact gave him was a photograph of said palace.

“As for these–” Sharzad handed him one paper at a time, pausing to speak every time. “–Shihab Athari and Iqbal Taftazani were my grandfathers, although both have been dead for over a decade. Never met them. No idea about the rest of these papers.”

“Your family is full of scholars.” Not a question, but definitely a comment.

Sharzad snorted. “What else can you be in Sumeru? Besides, based on what little I’ve heard, most of my grandparents were gifted in some area or another.”

“I take it you haven’t met any of them?”

“Only my grandmother on my Dad’s side, but that’s because she’s still alive.” She lowered her gaze. “My parents don’t like to talk about the others too much. For reasons.”

Diluc took this as a sign to change the subject. He unfortunately understood grief for a parent all too well, and whatever the cause of the silence was, he wasn’t about to disturb potentially emotionally charged memories. It certainly wouldn’t do him well to be questioned about his father’s death, and he seldom spoke of him most days. There wasn’t a point in dwelling on the pain of his past when he had more important things to do.

“My only other . . . burning question is about this.” He showed her the newspaper before setting it on his desk again. “What exactly happened?”

It would have been difficult to miss how quickly Sharzad tensed. Something akin to fear flashed across her features, and when she spoke, her voice wavered as if she was on the verge of tears. “Exactly what it says on the paper. My former professor tried to sacrifice me to Deshret, and to save myself, I made a couple of deals.”

It’s all true. Well, that was a horrifying detail that certainly explained nothing about Sharzad. How had the sacrifice happened? Had she been injured in the process? Of what he had seen, she barely had any scars to begin with, besides a few smaller ones that could be explained by her youth.

What had caused enough of a panic to make her bargain with two deceased gods? Had the sacrifice been why the gods were drawn to her in the first place?

He raised an eyebrow. “The deals aren’t in the paper.”

“No. But the deals happened anyway. Didn’t have much of a choice in that coffin.”

“You–” his mouth dropped open before he could rein in his reaction. “A coffin?!”

That certainly explained the lack of injury. If the people who sacrificed her (or attempted to, in any case) tried to do so by asphyxiation, she certainly wouldn’t have the stab wounds he’d expect from a human sacrifice. Not that Diluc knew what a sacrifice ritual actually looked like, but he figured that the Harbinger Dottore’s twisted experiments would be enough of a substitute.

“Burial and rebirth or something. They thought I was Deshret reincarnated, after all.” Sharzad’s jaw had gone tight, and the smallest amount of pink energy covered her body as flowering vines twisted around her wrists. “I’d rather not give you the details.”

“But you’re not a reincarnated god.”

Sharzad winced. “Just his heir. As of . . . two weeks ago.”

“I don’t see how a god could make you his heir. Deshret wasn’t the archon of Sumeru.”

“No, but he was one of its god-kings, and the ruler of the desert. Part of the terms of my deal was to–”

“Become its queen,” he realised.

Oh. Oh no.

“Crown Princess as of now, but yes. Eventually.”

Diluc tried in vain to wrap his mind around everything he knew about Sharzad. He unfortunately developed a new headache in the process.

Scholar. Inheritor of a goddess’ power. Sumerian adventurer. Heir to a fragmented kingdom. Honorary Knight of Favonius. Superpowered teenager.

And her parents were . . . arguably the most prodigious architect currently living in Sumeru and a scribe of some kind. How had they managed to keep her alive? How were they still alive?

A gloved hand waved in front of his face. “You good?”

When he refocused on Sharzad, he found her staring at him. Frowning, she tilted her head at him. “Guess not.” She leaned back in her chair again. “Realising you underestimated me, haven’t you?”

“How old are you?” he asked weakly.

At this, she grinned. “Sixteen.”

Barbatos’ fucking lyre.

Chapter Text

QUEST

Nectar of the Gods

Bring Dvalin the bottles of Dawn’s Nectar

They met up with the dragon at the same Statue of the Seven where they’d met him. Aether wished they could have just teleported there using the waypoints, but he didn’t know how Sharzad or her gods would react to his ability. Nor did he know if he could even teleport with an added person (besides Paimon) in the first place.

“You have returned,” Dvalin rumbled.

The dragon’s voice, Aether had noticed, shifted with the winds. In the stormy aftermath of the Stormterror crisis, it had been powerful and painfully loud, much like the hurricane-force winds that buffeted the spire of the dragon’s lair. Today, it was softer, matching the light, cold breeze and the barest hint of snowfall.

Sharzad withdrew one of the bottles she’d somehow acquired and showed it to the dragon. How she’d managed that was a question Aether wasn’t particularly keen to answer. Knowing what little he did about Sharzad, it could have been anything from physical threats to just asking nicely. If anything, she could have asked nicely while threatening Diluc. He didn’t know—he didn’t see Diluc in the aftermath of whatever Sharzad did.

That girl was a magnet for chaos. And gods, apparently.

“Here. I have three bottles for you.”

Dvalin made a bird-like chirping noise. “Wonderful. Thank you, little princess.”

And there was the other thing. Aether had stayed on the spire with Paimon when Sharzad met Dvalin the first time. Still, he had heard the dragon address the scholar as princess. Later, when Paimon asked about it, all Sharzad said was that it was a condition of her deal with Deshret.

“Don’t worry about it, I know what I’m doing.”

Aether was most definitely going to worry. He’d met people like her before, those who seemed entirely normal at first and then proceeded to absolutely obliterate all expectations by dropping bits and pieces of their backstory on unsuspecting friends and acquaintances. Adding that Sharzad was also a clear example of looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you, just meant that Aether would rather sit back and watch the chaos rather than actively take part in it.

Yet there he was, standing less than ten feet from a dragon and what was apparently a Sumerian princess as the latter handed the former three bottles of expensive, vintage wine.

“You have fulfilled your end of the bargain. How shall I reciprocate?”

“You promised a blessing.”

The dragon huffed what was probably a laugh. “That is not what I meant, little one. Gods like I are not accustomed to making deals with mortals. Some of the ancients did so regularly, but I am certainly not as ancient as those who lived alongside my mother.”

Someone, probably one of the gods attached to Sharzad’s soul, said something Aether didn’t hear.

“Hmm. Thank you, god-king. Perhaps the wisdom of the ancients is not as lost as I thought it.” Dvalin shuffled back and lowered his head further. “Take off your glove and give me your hand, little princess.”

Sharzad did as he bade her, tucking the glove in one of the pockets of her emerald green skirt (her skirts even had pockets. Was that normal here? It wasn’t normal in any other world Aether had visited). The slow speed she extended her hand forward showed just how tiny Sharzad was in comparison to the dragon standing before her. If he hadn’t trusted Dvalin, Aether would have pulled his sword out.

The sword Sharzad made fun of constantly, to his chagrin. She was even forcing him to get a new one! At least she was paying for it. Or something.

“What’s happening?” Paimon whispered to Aether.

“I have absolutely no idea. But Sharzad said they were making a deal.”

Dvalin stretched his neck forward and pressed his snout against Sharzad’s hand. Closing his eyes, he began to speak. Every feather on his body began glowing the colour of Anemo as he recited something that was either a spell or a prayer.

“Let your falls always be slowed by the power of Anemo. Let your body never crash under cliffs or stumble out of the sky. Let the East Wind always come to your aid. This I promise you, as the son of Nidhogg, Sovereign of Anemo; as Dvalin the East Wind; and as the upholder of my end of our bargain.”

And then, to seal the deal, Dvalin dragged his pink tongue over Sharzad’s hand.

Nothing happened.

To be honest, Aether expected at least some sort of glowing. Even sparks or glitter or something that proved the deal happened. Changes in appearance, a new tattoo (though he couldn’t see much of her skin because of the cold), or even just an illusion of some kind.

And yet, absolutely nothing happened.

“Was something supposed to happen?” Paimon asked loudly. “That didn’t look special to Paimon.”

Aether glanced at Sharzad, who was staring at something next to her.

“No, Nabu, I am not about to jump off this platform.” Sharzad sighed. “Why are you the one with the most batshit insane ideas?”

“You want to test it?!” Hands covering her mouth, Paimon flew back in shock. “Wouldn’t you have to jump off?!”

“In theory.” Tapping her chin with her index finger, Sharzad walked in a small circle, gazing at her surroundings in the process. Then, she stopped. “Okay, so the air current leading to the spire . . . hmmm.”

Whatever she thought next was not spoken aloud, but she clearly approved of it.

Nodding to herself, Sharzad pulled out her glider and leapt directly into the air current. She flew up, up, up until the current could push her no further, and then turned towards the platform with the Statue of the Seven.

Aether wondered absent-mindedly if the statues made anyone else feel rejuvenated when they got too close. Maybe that was part of Sharzad’s plan, in the case that she hurt herself during her fall. He hoped that was part of the plan because, at this point, he couldn’t stop her—she’d already abandoned her glider and started to drop.

For a few terrifying moments, all he could do was watch as Sharzad plummeted closer and closer and–

There!

A gust of Anemo energy, visible through his Elemental Sight. The turquoise current swirled around Sharzad’s legs and feet, slowing her descent before slowly dropping her on the ground. She wobbled comically for a few moments as she caught her footing, before sighing in relief.

“Woof. I actually thought I might have to do something during those last few seconds.” And then, to Aether’s horror, she grinned. “Want to help me test this out at a larger height, Dvalin?”

That girl, Aether decided, Is out of her mind.

~~~

Two days later, Sharzad, Aether, and Paimon traveled to Windrise, settling not too far from the massive oak tree where Vennessa was said to have ascended to Celestia. They cleared out the hilichurls from a chunk of the area and, afterwards, settled for a quick lunch and a spar.

Aether held on to Skyward Blade with a grimace painting his features. “I already have a sword. Why do I need this one?”

A change of plans (and one look at Wagner’s designs) had made Sharzad realise that having a weapon forged would be useless in the long run, especially considering the gods and monsters Aether was destined to fight. So she had the brilliant idea of giving him one of the weapons she’d pulled for (although by accident in this case) over the years.

One I got after losing yet another weapon 50/50. I’m lucky I ended up with Light of Foliar Incision at all.

“It’s a good weapon. A great one, to be honest.” With great powers Sharzad was never going to use because at this point, she had some solid options in every weapon category.

“It looks . . . are you sure you’re giving it to me?”

“A–” Sharzad took a long, slow breath to keep her voice from rising. “Look. I’ve inherited a warrior king’s entire arsenal, and I have several other weapons I acquired over the years. You’d be taking it off my hands rather than doing anything mean, I promise you.”

Aether blinked. “Are you—are you sure?”

“Yes.” She summoned Sunfire’s Scourge and took up a fighting stance. “Now fight me, Helios. You promised.”

It was meant to be nothing more than a training exercise, a chance for Sharzad to face down a truly unpredictable opponent rather than practicing drills or fighting monsters (again). Nabu had suggested it and, after very little prodding, Aether had agreed.

After a few moments, Aether, too, fell into a fighting stance, although his form seemed much more relaxed than Sharzad’s was. His sword was in front of him, yes, but his weight had barely shifted. He didn’t look wary of her, although that may have been because they’d agreed to use no powers in this match and stop after someone landed the first hit.

It was just them and their weapons and the open skies of Mondstadt.

“Okay!” Paimon called. “Three! Two! One! Go!”

The two met in a clash of metal versus wood. Sharzad kicked at Aether’s legs, driving him back quick enough to lunge forward. He was ready for her and met her attempts at landing a hit every single time.

The force behind his blows was stronger than she anticipated, even if she knew Aether wasn’t human. Each hit drove her back, and would have no doubt cleaved her weapon in two if it hadn’t been forged by a god.

She dodged a particularly nasty strike of his pommel aimed for her arm, whirling Sunfire’s Scourge in an arc meant to hit him when he inevitably moved back again.

Yet instead of dodging, Aether dove under her polearm and, as he passed, gave her leg a short tap with his sword.

Already? Are you fucking serious?

Paimon noticed this. “Helios wins!”

The aforementioned Traveler jumped to his feet with a burst of Anemo. As he turned to look at Sharzad, he twirled his sword like she had seen people do with lightsabers in her previous life.

“Boom.”

She set the end of her polearm on the ground with a huff. “That wasn’t a normal technique. No one uses a sword that way.”

“Really? I’ve seen lots of people do that.”

“I haven’t. And I don’t do that, either.”

“Skill issue.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Unbecoming of a future queen,” Deshret commented. “Stay balanced and focused. As this is a true duel, improvise more rather than relying on my techniques as I taught them to you.”

On instinct, she gritted her teeth at the reminder (however unconscious) of her pains as Alhaitham’s swordsmanship student. Improvisation had been the bane of her existence at that time, too, and it unfortunately seemed that the issue hadn’t been resolved even after five years of combat training.

She readjusted her stance. “Let’s go again.”

Predictably, Aether beat her once more. This time by hitting her unguarded forearm with a kick.

And then he did it again. And again. And a fifth time just for good measure, although she miraculously managed to last more than twenty seconds against him, having finally noticed Aether’s preference for taking advantage of predictable combat techniques.

“Better.” Deshret nodded as Sharzad wiped the sweat from her brow. “But you will not last a second against an experienced combatant. I shudder to think what Morax will say.”

“Morax is the least of my worries right now— hey!”

She blocked Aether’s attack with the end of the flail, the decorative tassels snapping like tiny whips in the air. As they separated (Aether’s momentum kept him moving past her), Deshret took the chance to finally, finally give her live advice.

If only he did that the first five times.

“You have the advantage of reach! Attack him before he gets too close to strike!”

Lunging forward, she whipped Sunfire’s Scourge in a figure eight motion. The tassels once again snapped in the air, this time getting dangerously close to Aether’s face. Still, he managed to retreat untouched, before attempting to dart around her.

She whirled the polearm around to meet Aether’s next attack. This time, instead of dodging, he met each of her blows head on.

One, two, three, four exchanges, each a flurry of attacks, counterattacks, and defensive blows.

Each clash of weaponry made her slip on the grass, the force of Aether’s much stronger blows driving her slowly backwards. Still, she held strong and countered everything until–

It might have been her exhaustion. It might have been Aether’s strength. It might have been the grass. Whatever it was, Sharzad found herself sprawled on the ground, weapon clattering at her side.

Aether grinned at her, sword angled towards her throat. “You’ve lost.”

Instead of getting up, Sharzad flopped into the grass. “How annoying.”

Nabu joined her, sitting cross-legged by her side. “You held your own far longer than the other spars. It’s an improvement.”

“I will add strength training to your regiment,” Deshret added, making a note on a scroll he pulled out of nowhere. “Perhaps if we can increase your physical strength, you will be able to counter more blows head on.”

Aether tilted his head in confusion. Sharzad mouthed ‘Deshret’ at him, which was enough to get him to sit down and take a break.

“Or we could always change the strategy. She does not always have to charge into battle.”

“It is what she is used to. I am trying to expedite her training.”

Sharzad sighed. “Deshret, if physical strength is the problem, maybe we should focus on more defensive or evasive styles.”

“You do not have the time–”

“Then I’ll train harder. You can bring it to my dreams if necessary, and incorporate strength stuff into the etiquette and politics training. Quiz me and we’ll say that everything I do wrong adds ten push-ups to a workout or something.”

Lowering the scroll, Deshret stared at her, heterochromatic eyes wide in surprise. “Are you certain, Sharzad? I did not wish to overwhelm you with lessons too early on.”

What? Like he actually cared about taking time? Like he actually cared about being safe and careful when it came to teaching her stuff? It wasn’t like her martial training sessions were easy— they could easily last hours on end with only short breaks between endurance training or running through forms.

Sharzad sat up. “I’m your heir, Deshret. How in the ever loving fuck am I supposed to be that if I can’t act like it? Let alone the whole queen situation, whenever that ends up happening.”

Nabu hummed in agreement. “She has a point, Amun.”

“I would have expected you to demand patience and care, Nabu. Yet here we stand on unexpected sides of this debate.”

“Perhaps it may be best to listen to her wishes. It is true that you have been coddling her a little too much.”

The gasp Deshret let out could have probably fit in some telenovela, at the dramatic reveal of some affair or a secret child or something. “I have not been coddling anyone!”

Sharzad took the opportunity to pull a serving of kachori and started snacking. Neither deity noticed this.

“Then perhaps you have finally grown soft around the edges, love.” Nabu took Deshret’s hand and pulled him to the ground next to her, smiling all the while. “You were never like this with the few so fortunate to train under you.”

“This is not like the others. I am not so distant from her. And there is a certain instinct–” Deshret stopped talking and sighed. “–I do not understand it. Perhaps I felt this on occasion with some of my sages and priests, but I am not certain. It is strange.”

“Others might not think it strange at all. I will give you the time you wish to figure it out, Amun. You have never let a mystery rest for long.”

~~~

Level up! You have reached Level 30.

“Neat.”

“Sharzad, concentrate. You are supposed to be working on your horns.”

She tore her eyes away from the notification, barely suppressing her eye roll. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

They’d been sitting on her bed for around an hour at this point, and unfortunately, Sharzad was getting distracted all too easily. Meditation wasn’t doing much for her at the moment, and rather than manifesting (or removing) the horns, all she’d managed was several sunbeams and, on one memorable occasion, a sculpture made of sand in Paimon’s image.

“Be respectful to your elders.”

“My ancients, you mean? Considering you’re over six thousand years old?”

Deshret gave her a very disappointed stare. “I should hope you will not use that attitude when interacting with gods and their most important subordinates. It is unbecoming of an heir.”

“I won’t be speaking like I come out of a Shakespeare play, either.” Sharzad lowered her voice and began exaggerating her facial expressions (from her seat at the edge of the bed, Nabu burst out laughing). “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears: I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interrèd with their bones–”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the god king sighed. “There are days where I sincerely wonder whether you are more insane than I was at the height of the Forbidden Knowledge’s infection.”

Sharzad snorted. She grinned at Deshret. “You know, I think you’d like Shakespeare. I’m pretty sure I only ever read a few of his plays, but I know that they’re awesome when done right.”

“I do not know of this Shaken spear you speak of.”

Shaken spear.

Biting her lip, Sharzad did her utmost not to laugh (Nabu outright cackled). “You can see my memories, can’t you? Nabu understands most of my references, after all.”

“They are quite possibly the only knowledge I will ever actively avoid. A single glimpse at the abyss of ‘brain rot’ that occupies your mind drove me from that subject forever.”

“I find some of those memories entertaining,” Nabu said between laughs. “Perhaps if you tried looking–”

“Never in ten thousand years, Nabu.”

This was possibly the most hilarious turn of events in history. Deshret? Saying the word ‘brainrot’ in the most regal voice possible? Madness. Pure, utter, madness.

“I think you’d like my old world.”

“I most certainly would not.”

“Really? Endless knowledge available on the internet? Thousands of scientific achievements? Exploration into outer space?” She didn’t mention the chaos or the wars or anything. That wasn’t important right now. “Sounds like the sort of thing you’d like.”

“Focus on your lesson. Not on explaining that world to me.”

“I thought we’d established that all I can manifest are sunbeams and that statue I made.”

Thankfully, she finally figured out how to keep her thoughts from drifting towards making said things happen. And that was accomplished by picking a song and singing it as loudly as possible in her brain. It worked even better if it was a short looping portion of a song rather than the whole thing.

Another one bites the dust

Another one bites the dust

And another one gone, and another one gone

Another one bites the dust

Then keep it looping, and no more problems. Endlessly frustrating, but horrifically effective.

“I have confidence in your abilities. Nabu’s flower abilities became natural to you, and so too will the manifestation of her horns.”

“After two years! I don’t–” huffing, she bowed her head. “–I don’t have the time for that: we’re leaving for Liyue in five weeks!”

Liyue! That meant boss fights with an actual Harbinger and meeting Morax for the first time and probably fistfighting Osial or something. Could you fight water? The ocean? Sharzad didn’t know, but was probably going to find out some way or another.

Not to mention meeting Morax. Possibly fighting Morax. She fought back the bile in her throat as the image of being crushed by a meteor filled her brain. Assuming the guy couldn’t just outright turn her to stone like his burst did. He probably could.

And she definitely couldn’t just tear his arm off like she did with Signora.

Deshret frowned, his expression a strange mix of I have no clue what you’re thinking and I know exactly what you’re thinking.

Meanwhile, Nabu somehow picked out Sharzad’s exact feelings. Somehow.

“You’re afraid of Morax.”

A shaky laugh escaped her throat before she could stop it. “No shit. You realise that what I know about him makes him immediately more terrifying than Venti? And Venti scares me, too. I can ignore the whole Barbatos thing because of his personality, but he’s still the Archon of Anemo, not to mention one of two surviving original Archons, the other being Morax, who’s so old he was your thrice-damned sparring partner, Deshret. Which is basically a best friend in your terms.” Her eyes widened as something else came to mind. Gesticulating wildly, Sharzad continued to fall into her panic. “Do you think he’ll challenge me to a fight? I can’t win that! He’s going to go all I will have order on me and then I’ll be a pile of rubble! A pile of rubble that poor Helios is going to have to mail to Dad and Papa so they can have a funeral for me.”

She could already see her epitaph: Here lies Sharzad Athari Taftazani. Died by meteorite because she thought she could take on a god. Idiot.

Deshret raised an eyebrow. “Morax will not challenge you directly, that I promise you.”

“It’s been over a thousand years since you last saw him! You don’t know that!”

“The Morax I knew was perhaps . . . quick to attack, but he had already begun to mellow the last time I saw him. And I hardly think he would be driven to attack a mortal child so quickly.”

“He’s a veteran of the Archon War!”

“And so are we,” Nabu said softly. Her voice didn’t tremble, but it was tense. From his seat nearby, Deshret moved closer to his wife, his helm disappearing so he could lean in closer. To reassure her. “Though we do not speak of it often, it still affected Sumeru, especially after Amun gave up what the Heavens offered him.”

Sharzad shut her mouth and did her best not to stare in horror at the Goddess in Flowers. She’d assumed that the Archon War hadn’t touched Sumeru’s borders as much because any existing mention of it didn’t include any details. Had that been an erroneous assumption? Had Nabu and Deshret—and Greater Lord Rukkhadevata—actually fought in Sumeru rather than just ruled it?

“This is not the time to dwell on that part of the past. You will at least have negotiations with Morax,” Deshret promised her. “If he demands to fight in exchange for his power, so be it. But I shall ensure the terms of the duel are fair. It is the least I could do for you.”

Swallowing her anxieties, Sharzad nodded.

“Now let us resume this lesson. I still do not see horns on your head.”

Chapter Text

QUEST

A Farewell to the Wind

Enjoy your last day in Mondstadt

The fresh air outside the city was fresh and clear of the smell of burning, the latter only being an important detail after that morning’s activities. That being Klee’s lovely story quest, True Treasure, which should have been named True Bombs. Most of Sharzad’s clothing had been singed at least once by Pyro slimes or mages, Electro slimes causing Overload reactions, or Klee’s lovely bombs.

Sharzad was not looking forward to explaining that one to her fathers.

“You know, I kind of feel bad for Klee. Solitary confinement can’t be fun.”

Aether winced. “No, it isn’t. Especially since she’s so young . . .”

“Paimon doesn’t know what you guys are talking about!” The white-haired pixie crossed her arms and pouted. “Klee almost blew up Paimon! Master Jean shouldn’t let her anywhere near fire!”

“Her Pyro Vision makes that impossible,” Sharzad pointed out.

“Then why not take the Vision away?”

Sharzad did her best not to physically cringe at the idea. While she hadn’t seen a Visionless allogene in person, she’d read a few medical texts about it, and also retained some vague memories of the Inazuma quest storyline from her old world. Most people were affected in some way by separation from their Visions, whether in a physical or mental capacity. Hallucinations, memory loss, and muscle atrophy were among the more common symptoms, but it could even lead to death if the separation lasted long enough.

“That’s . . . not a good idea, to put it mildly,” Sharzad said eventually. “Klee’s also really young, at least in a mental capacity, so I wouldn’t want to see her waste away.”

“I am lucky I rarely witnessed it,” Nabu Malikata commented. “Visions became gifts only a few centuries before my demise.”

Wide-eyed, Paimon gaped at her. “Waste away? Do you mean . . . people die if they’re separated from their Visions?!”

“Sometimes, yes. Others suffer memory loss, or their bodies physically wither away. It’s never been investigated by Akademiya scholars as far as I know—which isn’t much, really.”

The studies she’d read had been the subject of curiosity once or twice, things lying in Alhaitham’s ever-growing collection of old editions of Akademiya journals from various Darshans. She’d cracked them open when she was off school or bored out of her mind, and typically, the older the studies, the more unhinged they got. Among the older ones were the studies on allogenes who had lost their Visions.

“Why not? Isn’t that important since so many people in Teyvat have Visions?”

“Only a tenth of the population at maximum,” Deshret said. “Hardly a majority requiring study.”

Sharzad hummed. “Deshret says it’s only about ten percent of the population, max. But for the Akademiya specifically, I think it’s because it’s kind of unethical? Experiments of that nature would be criminal these days . . . most of the studies are probably severely outdated.”

They found a spot with less snow and sat down on a fallen log together. Sharzad let out a contented sigh, smoothing out the wrinkles in her wool pants.

“I’m just glad that’s over. What a mess.”

Skill Godsense , activated. Divine presence detected.

Skill Godsense , activated. Divine presence detected.

She stared at the notifications for all of three seconds. “Son of a bitch.”

Aether frowned. “What?”

“Venti’s coming.”

A white blur flew in front of Sharzad. Paimon floated three inches away from Sharzad’s face.“What? Now? Why?”

“I just do. Stay calm, he wants to talk to me.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s been wandering near me for the past six weeks. I think it’s about the deal I made with Dvalin.”

As if speaking the dragon’s name summoned him, a gust of wind filled the air as a blue blur plummeted from the skies, landing with all the grace of a creature born of pure Anemo. Venti touched down next to him, landing so softly that he barely disturbed the snow.

“Hello you two,” Sharzad said, standing slowly. Thanks to Deshret’s tutelage over the past few weeks, she instinctively wove a crown of mourning flowers into her hair.

The two ghost gods stepped on either side of her, Deshret on her left, Nabu on the right. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of purple energy as Deshret swapped out his more casual gold-adorned tunic for his armour and crown. In the snow-covered landscape of late-December Mondstadt, it would have been impossible to miss such a change in colour.

“Barbatos,” Deshret greeted curtly. “Dvalin.”

Nabu offered a polite nod.

“Hey there!” Venti offered an enthusiastic wave to Aether and Paimon, who were still seated (or floating in Paimon’s case) on the snow-covered log. “Word on the street is that there’s a new princess in town.”

Taken by surprise, Sharzad blinked. Was that the reason he came to her? To check on gossip? “I thought you’d already know by now. It’s been weeks.”

“Well, Dvalin here neglected to tell me until very recently.”

“In my defense, I believed you knew already,” the dragon replied with a huff. He raised a paw to point at Sharzad’s head. “She wears the crown for a reason, after all.”

“And here I was thinking it was purely for aesthetics, Your Majesty.” Venti bowed, grinning like a cheshire cat the entire time.

“Your Highness is the proper means of address for a princess,” Deshret corrected.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Al-Ahmar. Mondstadt hasn’t had an active aristocracy in centuries. I’m a little rusty.”

That they knew. They’d interacted with Eula and her uncle Schubert a few weeks earlier, and ooh boy were they pretentious. Schubert more than Eula, but when the Knight of Favonius put on the true Lawrence personality, she was virtually unrecognisable.

What they didn’t know was why Venti was there. He wouldn’t have spent weeks trying to get close to Sharzad before fleeing when she caught a glimpse of him if there wasn’t a reason for it.

Sharzad crossed her arms. “You can’t just be here to gossip, Venti. I’m sure you trust Dvalin enough to believe in the heir stuff. Why are you really here?”

Venti laughed, but it sounded fake, like Kaveh whenever he was trying to please an uncooperative client. “Straight to business, aren’t you?”

“I have taught her not to waste time with pleasantries. You are an Archon, Barbatos. Act like it.”

“Amun, be polite.” Nabu’s voice could have soothed a raging spinocrocodile with how soft it was. “That is yet another thing you have insisted upon in Sharzad’s lessons.”

When Deshret sullenly shut up, Venti laughed. “Well well well, I certainly didn’t expect the great Sand King to be put down by his wife. Who’s really holding the reins, huh?”

This particular comment drew Nabu’s ire. “This is an equal partnership, Barbatos. I do not control him, nor does he control me. But we respect each other’s judgment enough to obey when it counts.”

“Can we get back on topic?” Sharzad asked before Venti, Dvalin, or Deshret made another comment and risked an all-out brawl between two ghost gods, a living god, and a dragon. To her internal dismay, the temperature around her rose enough that the snow at her feet evaporated. “Why are you here, Venti?”

The god clearly noticed the temperature change. “Made a new deal with the Sand King, I see.”

“Yes,” Sharzad muttered. She furiously tried to restore the temperature of her surroundings, barely managing to drop it by a few degrees.

“How interesting. Say, is this where the heir thing comes from?”

“Obviously,” Deshret drawled. The . . . Snape-like quality to the word teased a smile onto Sharzad’s face. “Is there a point to all this, bard, or are you simply–”

He coughed and wisely shut up at the sight of Nabu’s glare.

Dvalin dipped his feathery head. “You are right, Al-Ahmar: Barbatos has an ulterior motive here. Specifically, he worries about the deal I made with your mortal, a concern I find quite foolish.”

Venti whined. “Dvalin! I just want to make sure you don’t end up enslaved to anyone else. The Abyss was enough!”

“I traded a simple blessing for three bottles of one of your favourite wines. There is nothing that ties me to the mortal save for a shred of wind.” Turning towards Sharzad, Dvalin lowered his head to her eye level. “Isn’t that right, little princess?”

For her part, Sharzad fought back a sigh. Although she agreed with the Anemo Archon—no one deserved to be enslaved or mind controlled after all—he could have at least trusted his friend. His friend of five hundred years, even! It was past the time for trust issues.

“You came here,” she said slowly, hand rising towards her hair, “Because you wanted to make sure Dvalin didn’t tie himself to me?”

Venti held his hands up, palms open like he was surrendering to her. “In my defense, it’s impossible to see those things from afar. And anytime I got too close, that call of yours flooded my senses.”

She heard Paimon whisper “call?” to Aether, but she quieted soon after. Aether’s shushing must have been lost to the wind.

Despite her previous efforts, Sharzad sighed. “I don’t control it. All I know is that you kept getting close enough for me to sense you before running away again. Do you realize how annoying that’s been?”

“I told him several times to just speak with you.” Dvalin flared out his wings, shaking large chunks of snow onto the ground. “But he refused. I do not understand it.” He lowered his head to stare at Venti, who blinked back with round eyes.

“That makes two of us.”

“He’s afraid of you, Sharzad,” Deshret commented.

Venti turned to glare indignantly at him. “I am not afraid of her!”

“The call, then.” The desert’s king left no traces in the snow as he prowled closer to Venti, wandering in a slow circle around the bard. “It unsettles you in its unnaturality. It terrifies you in its nature.”

“Contracts are against his very being,” Dvalin pointed out. “You cannot fault Barbatos for that, Sand King.”

Sharzad offhandedly wondered if Venti and Zhongli ever got into spats about contracts and freedom. Maybe when they were younger?

Deshret stopped walking. “I am well aware, dragon. I was simply stating a fact.”

The turquoise ends of Venti’s braids began to glow. “I’m not afraid of the call, Al-Ahmar. I’m a victor of the Archon War—a little siren song won’t drive me off.”

The winds echoed his warning, sending snow from the trees cascading downwards.

Sharzad winced as her hair flew out of its ponytail. “Let’s not get . . . angry, please?” Holding out her hand, she added, “I won’t ask you to make a deal with me. Like I told Dvalin, I’m not seeking power, just whatever you might offer me. And if it’s nothing because contracts are against freedom, then so be it.” She crossed her arms. “But I can’t turn off the call, so you’re going to have to live with it.”

Venti held her gaze for a few moments before letting out a long breath. “What a pity.” But his braids stopped glowing anyway. He patted Dvalin’s shoulder. “I was hoping your answer might be different. But alright. See ya!”

He turned into a bird in a flash of feathers and, with Dvalin at his side, took off once more.

Once they were clear, Nabu turned on her husband. “You need to learn to control yourself! Sharzad won’t be able to make any deals if you keep insulting her possible benefactors!”

Deshret pouted, looking rather like a petulant child. “I can hardly be expected to keep my cool when that boy acts nothing like an Archon.”

“You are teaching Sharzad to keep herself neutral, yet you manage to do the exact opposite. Perhaps that is why she has struggled so much in recent weeks.”

“She is human and that is why–”

Sharzad decided she’d had enough, wandering back to the fallen log, Aether, and Paimon rather than staying with the gods.

“What was that about?” Paimon asked. “What’s a ‘call’? And how did you know they were coming?”

Given Aether’s staring, he probably had similar questions, which was kind of a problem because Sharzad didn’t want to explain.

So, she did the best she could to arrange her expression into something neutral. “The ‘call’ is the divine magnet in my soul. As for how I know . . . hmm. It’s just another gift from the gods. Don’t worry about it.”

~~~

The Angel’s Share was bustling with patrons at such an early hour, most of them considerably less inebriated than they’d be in two or three more drinks. Kaeya nursed his Death After Noon, watching the patrons with a keen eye. In a corner, a small party composed of Lisa, Amber, Eula, Sharzad, Helios, and Paimon were busy celebrating the latter three’s departure.

Jean had informed him earlier that it was the Honorary Knights’ last day in Mondstadt, with a warning that he should be at the city gate the next morning to see them off. To his chagrin, Kaeya still hadn’t gathered the intel he needed to confront Sharzad about what she knew, but he had a feeling that if he did not do so tonight, he would never get another chance.

From his place behind the bar, Diluc eyed him suspiciously. “What are you plotting?”

“Nothing!” The dear brother that would have once ended the statement went unsaid. “Say, do you have a private room I could steal for a few minutes? There’s a chat with our little Sumerian friend that I need to have before she leaves tomorrow.”

The grating sound of cloth squeaking against glass barely reached Kaeya’s ears over the sound of Venti— Barbatos— singing a tune on his lyre. Diluc raised an eyebrow, not making eye contact. “I would advise you against confronting her.”

“Whatever you know about her doesn’t concern me, Master Diluc. I have a feeling she knows things, and I would like to confirm before risking her spreading knowledge of my origins to everyone on the continent.”

He caught a flash of panic in his former brother’s expression. “Kaeya, please don’t—sweet Abyss."

Kaeya blinked, turning away from the bar to follow Diluc’s gaze. All he saw was Venti pausing to take a swig of wine and patrons asking for specific songs. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But his brother had gone pale, mouth dropped open in shock long enough for even a normal person to tell. Even after he schooled his expression, something akin to shock or horror continued to float in Diluc’s red eyes.

“What?”

“I have a room in the back—my office. I’ll bring her there for you, but I will need to ask her something before you begin.” Diluc’s expression returned to its normal grumpy frown. “Are we clear?”

Kaeya drained the rest of his drink in one gulp, setting down his glass with a thunk. “Crystal.”

“Good. Second door on the left when you walk through that door. Go.”

Once Diluc had abandoned the bar and walked towards the table with their . . . target, Kaeya slinked towards the door, entering the back halls with barely a sound. He ignored the first door on the left—a storage room for ingredients—and entered the second, revealing a humble office with just a desk, two chairs, and some shelves to store various papers. A window to the side let in light from the streetlamps, but Kaeya shut the curtains in favour of lighting the candelabra on the desk with the matches he kept in his back pocket.

The door to the office opened, and two pairs of footsteps entered the room. Kaeya heard a faint snort of laughter before Sharzad spoke.

“Wow, the brothers teamed up against me. How interesting.”

Kaeya’s Vision flared at the sound, and it took all his willpower not to pull his sword out immediately. “So you know about our past.” He mimicked her tone. “How interesting.”

He watched Sharzad take several steps away from Diluc and the door, positioning herself close to one of the walls. The candlelight was just bright enough to illuminate the gleam in her eyes, but not enough to show many details of her features.

“I have one question, and I’ll be leaving Kaeya to his foolish plan,” Diluc said firmly, arms crossed.

Sharzad raised an eyebrow, nodding her head as if to say go ahead.

“Is Venti Barbatos?”

The room fell silent enough that the faint sound of Venti’s singing filled the room.

Kaeya slammed as many walls on body language as he could. If he showed any sign of understanding, Diluc would understand that he’d figured out the truth.

But how?

Sharzad hummed after a moment’s pause. “You saw the wine?”

“Dawn Winery keeps track of the Nectar we sell. You are the last person in Mondstadt to purchase it in six months.”

She’d bought the wine? Was this how Diluc knew to trust her? But—but what had she done? Mondstadt might not have drinking laws like the other nations, but Diluc happened to be very set in his beliefs about healthy drinking, and he, much like their father Master Crepus, refused to sell anyone under the age of eighteen alcohol.

So why did he sell Dawn’s Nectar to Sharzad?

Sharzad, who simply nodded at Diluc’s justification. “Yes. Venti is Barbatos.”

The redhead accepted this far too easily in Kaeya’s opinion, simply nodded rather than questioning anything else. How many meetings did he have with Sharzad to make him trust her so readily? Had it only been the wine? Definitely not.

“You’re not going to ask anything else?”

“She has proven several times that she is upfront when questions are asked.” Diluc turned towards the door. “I would encourage you to do the same, Kaeya, or else you’ll make the same mistakes I did.”

Pink light flared across the room just as Diluc set his hand on the doorknob. Thin but sturdy vines blocked Diluc’s way forward. “You’re welcome to stay, you know.”

“I’d rather not watch him embarrass himself.”

Embarrass himself? Kaeya wasn’t going to embarrass himself at all. To think that Diluc trusted him so little! Perhaps Kaeya should abandon his hopes of ever reconciling with his brother if Diluc truly had so little faith in him.

The flowers receded in a moment. “Then at least let him talk to you when this is over. I have a feeling he’s going to want to talk to a kindred soul.”

Diluc offered a curt nod and then left, just like that.

After taking a breath to steel himself, Kaeya turned to Sharzad. “You have answers for me.”

Golden eyes stared back at him. Sharzad held her arms open in a gesture that was both welcoming and threatening. “Only if you ask questions first. Your brother’s right—I’ll only answer if you ask upfront questions. But I will be truthful unless it is particularly personal. Does that help?”

“What did you do to Diluc?”

Sharzad shrugged. “Well, he started it by threatening my life, but then–”

Diluc threatened her. He doesn’t do that without very good reason to be suspicious. What did she do? Why is he collaborating with her?

The temperature of the room dropped several degrees. Frost covered the carpet at her feet as Kaeya’s Vision glowed dangerously bright. He pulled out his sword and went to point it at her throat–

Only for a blade glowing green and silver to parry him in an instant. His sword almost clattered from his grip at the unexpected force.

The girl in front of him looked unfazed. “Just like that.” Kaeya noticed how tense Sharzad’s grip on her blade was—she would be ready if he struck again. “Your brother put his claymore to my throat and threatened my life.”

“Why?”

“Because I speak a language he’s only ever associated with the Abyss.” She huffed. “He assumed I was in the league with the Abyss Order.”

Kaeya thought back to a half-forgotten childhood. Of a ruined city and being raised to join the ranks of an army of monsters. Of being told that, as a descendant of Khaenri’ahn nobility, he was among the few pure ones, one of the few not doomed to warp into a monster as he aged.

“Are you?”

A raised eyebrow. “I slaughtered a decent chunk of its army, in case you forgot, Sir Kaeya.”

“You could be a double agent.” He tightened his grip on his sword. “Like me.”

Not that he’d ever given a Khaenri’ahn information. Not that he’d ever seen someone from the fallen nation since his birth father abandoned him in the rain. The mission had been a terror in the back of his mind as a child and now, it was background noise. A source of guilt, if anything, because it was why he and Diluc fought.

However, Sharzad chuckled at him. Not a full laugh, but certainly a sound of mirth. “You’re no more a double agent than I am a Hilichurl. That star in your pupil doesn’t make you less of a Mondstadtian.”

“So you know.”

Had she met one of them? Was that how she recognized him?

“There are giant mechs from your people in the desert, and one in the rainforest. Not to mention the rumours that Khaenri’ah’s ruins are under Sumeru.”

Kaeya debated whether she was being honest or not. What if Sharzad was lying by omission? Had met a Khaenri’ahn and kept that hidden?

“I mean, go ahead, Deshret. Don’t know what it’s going to do, but–”

The girl’s posture straightened out of nowhere, her face taken over by a scowl. The sword in her hand vanished as she adjusted her stance to something more neutral.

Pure light—a sunbeam, Kaeya realised—streamed down from the ceiling at the snap of a finger, illuminating enough of the room that they wouldn’t have to strain their eyes anymore.

“Kaeya Alberich, you are wasting your time.”

Her voice reminded him of certain Abyss monsters, the kind that echoed with inhuman power.

Kaeya scrambled to catch his sword before it clattered out of his grip. “You’ve stolen her body.”

Not-Sharzad held her hands out, palms open towards the ceiling. “She gave me permission to borrow it. I would hardly call this stealing.”

“Who are you?” Horrified, he changed courses, because that wasn’t human by any means. “What are you?”

“I am Deshret, god-king of Sumeru’s desert and one of Sharzad’s patron gods.” Even without a weapon in hand, not-Sharzad still felt way too threatening for comfort. “You have three questions: choose them wisely.”

~~~

QUEST

Ragnvindr Revelation

Talk to Diluc about your conversation with Kaeya

Diluc raised an eyebrow at her when she returned to the bar. The Angel’s Share seemed as lively as ever, and it seemed that Venti had abandoned his singing in favour of joining the farewell party for Aether, Paimon, and Sharzad.

“Another cider, please,” she asked.

“Where’s Kaeya?”

Sharzad bit the inside of her cheek. “The office where we talked. He’s . . . coping.”

By coping, she meant sitting at the desk and staring into space. Deshret probably was a little too much for poor Kaeya, who appeared to be slowly losing his mind during the entire conversation (made worse by the reveal of Sharzad’s new title). The pair of ghost gods offered to watch over the Cavalry Captain while Sharzad went to fetch Diluc.

And kudos to the bartender—he didn’t even look up from the cider as he questioned her. “What did you do?”

“Deshret spoke to him for a bit. Gave him three chances to ask questions.”

“What were they?”

Sharzad took the mug of cider he handed her. “He’ll tell you himself. I told Kaeya you’d talk with him.”

“I’m surprised that reassured him.”

“Why should you be? He’s your brother.”

Diluc clearly hesitated before he spoke. “Was.”

Sharzad fought back a groan. Really? For the people half in charge of Mondstadt, those two were way too immature for their own good. Of course, she could hardly fault them: they were in their early twenties from what she could guess, meaning their brains were hardly fully developed.

“Look—I don’t know what exactly happened between you two–” if she had once upon a time, she’d forgotten by now. “–but you need to talk it out like adults.”

All she received was a skeptical eyebrow raise. “That’s naive of you.”

“If my fathers could get over a massive fight two years before I showed up and end up happily married at the end of it all, I don’t see why you and Kaeya couldn’t at least talk.” She forced herself to make eye contact with him. “And while I don’t know what’s going through either of your heads, I wouldn’t be surprised if both of you feel the same regret about the past.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, until she pulled away to stare at the screen in front of her.

QUEST

Ragnvindr Revelation

Objective Complete

Reward: 500 Character EXP, 2000 Mora, 5 Enhancement Ore, 20 Primogems

New Friendship Bonus (Diluc: Hero’s Alibi) Unlocked

Alright. Cool. She’d been wondering when one of those would come up again. Besides Reflection of the Scribe, she didn’t use those skills all that much (although granted, Cyno’s was useless except in TCG, Kaveh’s was about measuring distance, and Tighnari’s overwhelmed her to the point of panic, sooo . . . ).

Instead of doing anything suspicious (like opening her skill menu), Sharzad handed Diluc some Mora for the cider and then, with a nod, rejoined the party.

“What did our dear Diluc need with you?” Lisa asked her almost immediately. All she had was a glass of water—unless that was actually vodka, in which case Sharzad was impressed by the fact that she was still standing straight.

“Nothing much. Few last-minute questions, if anything. Did anyone get solid food or is it all drinks?”

Lisa shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Well, fantastic.”

Sharzad cupped her hands and willed an apple blossom into existence, before forcing it through its life stages, one at the time. The petals fell to the floor, and what remained swelled into a crisp red apple. 

She took a bite of it, swallowed, and then looked at Lisa. “Want one?”

The librarian shook her head, a small, wry smile on her face. “No, thank you. Unlike in Sumeru, Mondstadt has an apple season in early fall where the surplus is so massive that it seems like all we eat are apples.” Despite the more annoyed nature of her statement, Lisa chuckled. “I try not to eat them during the rest of the year because I get so tired of them.”

Oof. That had to suck, if apple season was really that . . . overloaded with the fruit. People probably made apple pies, cider, and whatever else you could make with the fruit just so they could use all their surplus without wasting anything.

At least in Sumeru, growing seasons were a little more uniform, and very little land was farmland, so agricultural surpluses were rare. Sharzad could never imagine having to eat, say, zaytun peaches with every meal for a whole season. She’d get tired of them so fast.

“Fair,” she replied after realising that she’d been silent for a little longer than comfortable.

A moment later, Nabu appeared next to her with Deshret at her side. “They’re talking. We decided to give them some privacy.”

Good.

Maybe Mondstadt could see a little more peace and unity between its allogenes. When the final battle came, they were going to need it.