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Once upon a time, there lived a woman as fair and pristine as the snow of her homeland. In those days, Snezhnaya was a land of warm, wet summers and charming winters, for even the thickest ice gave way to green. Yet year round the Archon of Cryo was revered by her people.
Her position was not one of trite bloodline nor of militant victory. She was the goddess of love, embodiment of the pureness of the heart, and thus how could the denizens of the nation not push her into Archonhood? From Zapolyarny Palace she oversaw a golden age. Compared to the slaughter of the war long forgotten by mortal minds, she reigned as empress over a prosperous land which celebrated the coming of both warmth and cold.
They called her the Tsaritsa.
The Tsaritsa, living up to her title, loved her people with all her soul. Gods were once commonplace and even the Archon war ever so long ago had left a great many of them around. What, she asked herself, defines a god but those who worship them? Snezhnaya was to be a land built by and for her citizens, a beacon for all Teyvat to admire and emulate. Of course the other Archons thought differently. Long were her debates over the nature of governance. Be it contracts or divine right, freedom or wisdom, all gods needed something to justify themselves. Though in her core, the Tsaritsa knew of another, far more objective guarantee of authority.
Her gnosis, her divine throne. Celestia’s acknowledgment of her right to represent Cryo. And though the gnosis gave her immense power, she could not help but wonder if such power was deserved. What made her superior to any other? This world’s rulers had appointed her so, but was their judgment based in anything real?
The Tsaritsa buried these doubts for century after century. She knew better than to question the Heavenly Principles. The Lord of Deserts and the Goddess of Flowers had offered such a lesson and to subject her people to similar mistakes was unthinkable.
All that changed with the rise of Khaenri’ah.
The godless nation had existed before she came into being. Now, under a dynasty named for the darkness which blocked heaven’s light, it flourished. Scholars, inventors, scientists, merchants; all came back with wondrous tales. Machines that could rival even the God of Dust’s mechanisms, magic which seemed to defy all known principles. Humanity truly unchained from worship and free to perfect itself. How fascinating, thought the Tsaritsa. She whetted her interests with books and stories, and even attempted to visit. Their denial only made her more curious. Here was her doubts made manifest. Was the blessing of Celestia truly needed at all?
Over the course of a millennia, the news out of Khaenri’ah started to take on a decidedly strange tone. Giant beasts of metal were being constructed. Breakthroughs in alchemy so revolutionary and heretical that their mages were sworn to secrecy. An army was being gathered, larger and more formidable than any before it. Her advisors bickered as to the truth. An invasion of all Teyvat, one suggested. A foray into the unknown space surrounding the kingdom, another suggested. Perhaps, a third said, the pride of humanity was preparing to challenge heaven itself, and for such an absurd suggestion they were deemed a fool.
All three were correct in a way. There were indicators that the apocalypse was approaching. Whispers of Abyssal corruption and experiments with forces far beyond the ken of man. The leylines strained as if preparing for some great load. And yet there was no warning when the portals made of stars opened, gashes in the fabric of reality from which hellish creatures spilled out of. The Tsaritsa could sense that the Abyss had come to all of Teyvat, and so she like all other Archons moved to defend her people.
Villages were wiped off the map. Monsters overwhelmed even her great power, dozens rushing forward for every one she skewered with an arrow. Every man and woman, the old and infirm, the naive and young, took up arms. Every step back was paved in blood, and for all the slaughter endured by Snezhnaya it never once stopped fighting. Only when the beasts lunged up the steps of Zapolyarny did the Tsaritsa, tears in her eyes, make the ultimate decision.
Pulling all the power she could, she unleashed the divine throne. Waves of cryo swept over the land. Ice and snow pummeled the invaders until every portal was frozen shut under the force of permanent winter. What remained was expunged from her nation as she led her beloved people to an ultimate, costly victory. Snezhnaya would no longer be known for its lush warmth.
It was as the last savage hound was crushed underneath her heel that Celestia summoned her.
The origin of this cataclysm were the godless kingdom. Too long had they flaunted the Heavenly Principles. Thus, the Archons were to go to war. Not against a single foe but an entire country. At this command the Tsaritsa despaired. Regardless of the sins committed, surely obliteration was not the answer! Millions condemned to perish because their rulers made mistakes? Had not enough lives been taken?
The Heavens were unwavering. Yet she could not help herself.
“Greater Lord Rukkhadevata,” The Tsaritsa pleaded as they fought their way through the hordes that had ravaged Tunigi Hollow, “you embody wisdom in all its forms. Would not the elimination of these people, all their accumulated knowledge, be an unforgivable crime?”
“I have no great love for our masters” the Greater Lord responded, all the while blooms of dendro clashed with Abyssal might, “but I have seen what defiance reaps firsthand. I must guard Irminsul lest all of Teyvat’s knowledge fall to corrosion. Wisdom necessitates making bargains, and the scales are weighed against Khaenri’ah.”
“Egeria,” The Tsaritsa begged as the Seven descended onto the burning kingdom, “you represent justice, that which separates right and wrong. What justice is there in slaughter? What laws require humbling humanity with such cruelty?”
“I have experienced the wrath of the Heavenly Principles myself,” The Mistress of Many Waters murmured as water sweeps across buildings and people alike, “and have no wish to return to their prison. And what greater law can there be than that which defines all of Teyvat, our very role included?”
“Mavuika,” The Tsaritsa insisted as the great automatons of Khaenri’ah rose to challenge invaders both godly and Abyssal, “you are war given life. But this is not war. We have been ordered to exterminate. Surely an honored warrior must refuse such blatant ruthlessness?”
“Natlan has been devastated beyond all other nations,” Haborym grunted, speaking even as she casts waves of flame in every direction, “and thus requires a response. Was it not an invasion, an act of war? War begets atrocity and Celestia itself has sanctioned it. Should I not put my people first?
“Baal,” The Tsaritsa besought all the while lightening exploded around them, “you lay claim to the concept of eternity. Does that entail destruction? Do those above us care for the lasting peace you seek?”
“I do not disagree,” Raiden Makoto sighed, watching her element claim innumerable lives, “but what choice do I have? The Abyss must be curtailed, and our orders on how to do so cannot be denied. Eternity cannot stand in the face of such a threat. A tragedy, true, but unavoidable all the same.”
“Rex Lapis,” The Tsarita yelled, anger rising as the meteors whizzed towards the sinners, “you are the originator of all contracts. What agreement did the mortal of this nation enter? They eschewed us, what right do we have to punish them for their misdeeds?”
“A foolish argument,” scoffed Morax as he began to peel away the rock ceiling above them, “for existence in this world is a contract with Celestia itself. They have broken it. Moreover, we are held by contract to the orders of heaven. Such is life under gods, regrettable as it is.”
“Why?” spat the Tsaritsa, braving vicious gales to face who she once thought of as her friend, “You call yourself the god of freedom and yet you bow to commands most despicable? You rob them or their right to life itself! You out of everyone should know this!”
“I know,” cried Barbatos as he robbed lungs of air, “I know and yet I cannot disobey. Horrible as it may be, I have no freedom to refuse.”
The Lord of Geo must have finished his task, for the sky then bore down on the cavern Khaenri’ah was nestled within. And hanging above man and beast and god alike, a blade ready to fall, was Celestia. No doubt it watched to make sure its precious pawns didn't step out of line. For all her compatriot’s justifications only Barbatos had captured the truth. They were slaves to the heavens, the tyrant which concealed and controlled. Had she not followed along, Snezhnaya will befall a similar tragedy. With all the love left in her now-empty heart, the Tsaritsa lifted her hand. Frost rippled outwards and with it instant death, the only mercy she could provide.
And yet humanity did not accept its fate. Artillery arced upwards, some even reaching the outward borders of Celestia. Knights, mere men, lunged at gods by stepping over the many bodies of their downed fellows. Hulking mechanical figures came in endless waves, augmented by mages who hurled magic with fearsome determination. Baal is struck down under the sheer barrage of projectiles, Egeria slain under hordes of warriors bent on defending their home at all costs. For a moment she thought that the mortals may prevail. That the Seven will face their ends here, punishment for the crime they are carrying out.
Then the Sustainer appeared in a flash of red. Cubes of energy burst forth, unstoppable tendrils of destruction that tore through everything in its path.
CONTINUE YOUR TASKS , echoed the Sustainer’s voice in their minds, THE GNOSES HAVE BEEN COLLECTED, THE OUTLANDERS DEALT WITH.
The Tsaritsa did not know long she unleashed cryo against the godless nation. Only that the floating panopticon above them eventually disappeared. Her fellow gods took this as their cue to leave. Only she remained to sift through the ruins, ash falling in a perverse parody of her element. She walked through the destruction and made sure to sear every image in her memory. This is what Celestia truly represents, empyrean tyranny lording over a captured world. It is only once she returned home that she learned of the final touches of the cruel masterpiece. Those who managed to escape the slaughter had been cursed to be nothing more than beasts, crude caricatures of the humans they once were.
Enough. It was time to break the shackles over Teyvat. Her fellow Archons in all their ability and wisdom had refused her plea. What she needed were fools.
Snezhnaya was recovering. It was not enough. Her people shall not succumb to the same fate. The Abyss, she told her people, will be back. They must not spoil their hard-won victory with laxity. The entire nation was called to arms, preparation for a war that will not come for centuries. There will be a reckoning. And she will use the divine thrones to strike down this world’s masters. Thus, she needed her fools to go seize them. It is in her quest for knowledge considered sinful that she found an ally, a pureblood forced into eternal life. He had attempted to warn his rules of the folly of their goals. In being proven correct, his home was wiped away.
“I would use every force at my disposal to strike down the tyrants who make servants of us all.”
“A most noble goal, your excellency,” the mage genuflected, “and for this you shall have my unflinching loyalty. The sky is false, and we shall succeed in casting the celestial veil from this world.” From there, her fellow fool, her Jester, sought out those individuals who would work for the same goal.
A warrior. Cursed as well, he had fought the Abyss with everything in him, forced to retreat and yet never ceased the battle all the same. A Captain with no men to lead.
“We shall crush both forces which rendered your home dust. No more shall nations rise and fall at the god’s whim.”
“Then I swear my sword to you, for your purposes are mine. I fight to save all from every threat above and below.”
A woman with flames for blood. She burned until the Tsaritsa pulled a fraction of her throne to cool the raging fire. A Fair Lady, lacking a suitor.
“I have granted you relief. The world failed you, failed your paramour. We shall wipe the slate clean and on its grave fashion something anew.”
“My archon abandoned us! I alone fought back the cataclysm while Rostam died. Grant me forgetfulness and I will follow you until I am naught but ash.”
A seelie, last representative of a long dead race. Blind and yet her vision peers farther than any trinket granted by Celestia. A Damselette, an angel stripped of her wings.
“The heavens cast you down for love. Your kind has been reduced to wisps. I aim to overturn that which left you in solitude.”
“I have gazed upon the true stars, and their wisdom left me blind. Yet I can see much in our future together. Fools, fools all of us! But this angel shall embrace it.”
A student turned mad scientist. His endless quest for knowledge had led him to eschew all morals, all kindness, all to fuel his sadistic genius. A Doctor, the world his laboratory.
“The world is built on lies. I seek to reveal the truth no matter how terrible, to elevate humanity’s status without fetters.”
“I wish to make gods of men, dear archon. You say Teyvat has secrets to plunder? I shall uncover them all. How wonderfully our goals align. Very well!”
A puppet abandoned by his maker. He had seethed with resentment, missing the godhood he was so ignominiously denied. A Balladeer, a composer denied his stage.
“An archon made you. An archon left you. I wish to eliminate the order under which such a thing could happen, and to grant you a semblance of the power meant to be yours.”
“Pah! I couldn’t care less about humans or gods. I wish to take what is mine. If that works in your favor so be it. My strings have been cut. I will be the puppeteer from now on.”
A robot made in the shadow of a corpse. Crafted in the image of a long-dead love, she had murdered the creator who sought to chain her down. A Marionette, creation turned foul-tempered creator.
“You build endlessly, a repudiation of the man who made you. There are greater chains still. The Heavenly Principles would see you as a sin, artificial life to be arbitrarily struck down.”
“Absurd. I am free of human flaws, and yet heaven would favor them? Hmph. You wish to fight the gods above? Then I find myself in league with you against all who deem me worthless. The glean of mechanical perfection shall outstrip these so-called ‘principles.’”
A scheming politician. He had a hand in every pot, and with each step ascended the ladder of power as his domain grew. A Rooster, crowing a tune as he flies higher and higher.
“You wish to wield authority? I can grant you it second to only myself. Together, we may yet wrest this word from the ultimate authority who makes subordinates of us all.”
“Oh your excellency, I live to serve your whims and wishes. I shall guide this nation to be as you see it, steel our people for the terrible winter to come. Hoho, happy have you made this old man!”
A banker with desires far beyond his station. Born of poverty, his ambitions were not recognized. To correct all imbalances, he would gain the world and then some. A Regrator, that which buys all he can and sells all he must.
“Heaven could not see your desires. I do. Celestia has created a divine hierarchy for gods and man alike. I wish to tear it down.”
“A ruler with an ounce of sense, I see. I can make this nation richer than any, to fund whatever is needed to correct the imbalances inflicted on this world. Usurping the monopolizers, both here and above… a quite wonderful dream.”
A pawn made king. She grants her a delusion of pyro, flame made triplicate, to assist in counteracting the ancient curse which blackens her limbs. A Knave, burning hidden beneath a placid surface.
“You have slain your Mother. She was cruel, yet effective. You are Father of the House now, and shall take over her role. Rule the Hearth as you see fit. Once our goals have been achieved, love may yet permeate the world.”
“You have pardoned my crime. Revealed your motivations. You are worthy of the power you exercise, and for that you have my respect as well as my service. I look forward to seeing what the thaw reveals your love to be.”
A child spat out of the Abyss. Tutored by a sinner of the deceased kingdom, war lived in his soul in equal parts with love for his family. A Childe, young soul stained by darkness and with so much growth yet.
“You desire a fight? I can offer you the grandest fight of all: a battle with the masters of this world, Celestia itself. The war to end all wars, with you under my banner.”
“Well how can I say no to such an offer? The ultimate battle with gods and beasts is something I cannot miss. I can be your weapon of war. So long as blood spills, I have no complaints!”
Her fools assembled, her Fatuus. After five centuries, she was ready to send them into the world. The thrones shall be taken. The Abyss shall be crushed. The floating island which sneers down at the world will be brought down to earth, the firmament shattered to see what lies above.
Once upon a time, the Tsaritsa sat upon her throne, looking out at all of Teyvat, and declared war upon the world with all the love she had left to give. “Burn away the old world for me,” the Cryo Archon whispered, and her Harbingers of heaven’s fall went to do just that.