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the desert is beautiful. dunyarzad has always known of the world beyond the kingdom of ormos, but she has never had the chance to see it for herself.
how could she? the sickly princess of a small nation, her health and safety has always been a priority. there are no heirs after her. dunyarzad’s death spelled the death of ormos’ future.
it is an objective fact that she has known all of her life, and yet she has never been faced with it so harshly as this moment, the vastness of golden sands and red cliffs spreading out before her.
the kingdom of hermanubis is incredible. she wishes she could have come sooner, seen the beauty of these sunlit dunes earlier, but she knows fully well that her father would have never let it happen. it had taken her weeks to convince shahzaman to bring her on this diplomatic trip – to do so while hermanubis was embroiled in their civil war would have been tantamount to blasphemy in his eyes.
it is pure luck that he allowed her to come along to speak with hermanubis’ general-prince. then again, general cyno has always been described as steadfast and moral, one of the greatest upholders of justice that hermanubis has ever seen. perhaps her father is not as afraid, then?
and to be blessed by the gods, as well!
dunyarzad knows it is one of her father’s greatest sorrows that no one in their family has ever received the divine’s blessing. it is not unheard of, exactly, to lack divinity, but most kingdoms have at least one person with godly power in their royal courts. the doctor-prince of gandharva is blessed by buer. the uncrowned king of mondstadt is blessed by haborym. and the general-prince of hermanubis is blessed by beelzebul.
it is very formidable of them, in all honesty. dunyarzad has never been quite so devoted to any god except for buer, but she can admit that it is still a terribly impressive feat to be able to handle such inhumane power.
it is almost a little intimidating, but she is not here to be frightened. she is here to prove to her father that despite her sickness, she is not a frail, foolish child meant to be sheltered from the world.
dunyarzad knows that many people expect her only to marry and have children before her body gives out on her completely – ormos’ future, after all, is most important – but how can she be queen without understanding a single aspect of ruling?
she is not a child anymore. her father’s bedtime fairytales are not enough to sate her mind.
if this journey is what it will take to prove it, so be it.
the general-prince of hermanubis lives up to the stories whispered about him. he appears quite menacing, truly, and his eyes flash just the slightest hint of crackling violet, a clear tell to beelzebubl's power within him.
“your majesty,” he greets, inclining his head as a show of respect, from one ruler to another. dunyarzad abruptly remembers that hermanubis does not use the title of king – instead, princes who ascend to ruling are granted mahamatra. there are trials that must be met first, she knows, although the details were sparse. it’s a funny thought. cyno and her father are equals.
he turns towards her, and dips his head lightly in acknowledgement. “your highness.”
and – oh. dunyarzad has never been noticed. few recognize her as royalty in her own right. she has been kept in ormos’ palace for years – how are they to know?
cyno did, however. it’s... nice. it certainly would not be enough to prove to her father anything, but it’s a start.
“general mahamatra,” she responds, bowing. “it is an honor to meet you.”
next to her, shahzaman inclines his head as well. “general. thank you for taking the time to meet with us.”
“of course,” cyno says. “ormos is a prospering kingdom. it is an honor to meet with the heart of sumeru’s trade.”
“general,” a girl appears, walking through the hall towards them. she’s several years younger than dunyarzad herself, with vivid green hair and bright violet eyes. it’s strange – she is not dressed in hermanubis fashion, appearing more like a citizen of gandharva.
“yes, my apologies,” cyno blinks, and gestures towards the girl. “this is collei. she will show you to where you will be staying. i’m sure it was a long journey.”
“thank you, general,” shahzaman says, and then refocuses his attention on collei, who flinches but offers a bow, sharp in its nervousness.
“your majesty!” she says, and then turns towards dunyarzad and bows again. “your highness! please follow me!”
dunyarzad blinks. is it normal, then, for them to acknowledge her in this manner? few people, even in ormos, have ever done so in her life. and yet, the first two people she has spoken to in hermanubis have treated her as if she were a crown princess instead of the sickly thing she is.
it doesn’t matter. she can enjoy it while it lasts, and hope desperately it will leave some impression on her father. hope that he will realize that she has become a woman in her own right.
mind made up, she steels herself and inclines her head towards collei, beginning to follow the girl. her father mutters a quiet order for one of his men to send over their belongings afterwards and then walks after them, dunyarzad falling back slightly to allow him to go first.
they are almost at the doorway at the end when she hears bright, hearty laughter echo through the hall. it’s nothing like the chiming-bell giggles of the fairies in the myths, and yet dunyarzad is hooked all the same, and she turns around immediately.
at the other end of the very spacious area, slowly walking off, is general cyno and a woman that dunyarzad has never seen before. her hair is long and dark but streaked with the yellow of the sands around them, and she wears sun-gold armor and red-black clothing around her body.
she’s so tall, too! dunyarzad cannot see a lot from this distance, but from what she can tell, the mystery woman is sculpted like a god. she’s mostly sure that the woman could lift dunyarzad up with a single arm.
cyno says something that she can’t pick out from this distance, and the mystery woman laughs again, hands on her hips. she wants to know what made her laugh. she wants to know if dunyarzad can make her laugh.
it’s strange. she’s never felt like this before, but she wants to know more about the warrior woman.
but by the time she can bring up the courage to ask collei, both general cyno and his friend have already disappeared, and she has to hurry to catch up. it would be improper to ask after the general mahamatra’s companions.
she pauses. that is something she hasn’t thought of, but the idea is painful. gods, she really does hope that the lady isn’t general cyno’s consort, or anything of the like.
“your majesty, this is kusayla, who was once one of my armies’ generals,” general cyno introduces. the man in question has harsh lines on his face, weary with age yet made imposing by it regardless, but the smile he offers them is bright, completely offsetting dunyarzad’s first impression of the man. “he has since retired and now serves as one of my advisors.”
it is only then that she notices the cane that he grips by his side, and the burn scars that bloom all the way down his side. an injury, then, during the war. it looks like it was incredibly painful, and yet it doesn’t seem to slow him down at all.
he speaks with confidence from experience and a hard-earned kindness, and dunyarzad immediately likes him. although she can’t understand exactly everything he speaks of – her father’s strict regulations on her knowledge once again getting in her way – she gathers enough and manages to make her own comments.
and then the mystery woman walks in and dunyarzad forgets to breathe, which is generally not a great thing to do when one is incredibly sick. she’s even more stunning up close. her eyes, gods, they’re piercing sky blues lit by flames. there is an entire world inside of them.
she’s never wanted to set herself on fire before, but this is one blaze she’s desperate to touch. it’s terrifying. it’s exhilarating.
“this is my daughter, dehya,” kusayla introduces, and dunyarzad reminds herself that she is here to prove herself, not get involved with another nation’s general’s daughter.
“dehya is one of our kingdom's strongest mercenaries as the flame-mane,” general cyno picks up, and dunyarzad can feel her willpower slowly trickling away. what an awe-inspiring title – and her name, too, she realizes! dehya. it’s beautiful. it suits her perfectly.
“your majesty,” dehya bows lightly in shahzaman’s direction, but she makes even that look confident, casual. and then she turns to dunyarzad, and dips her head. “your highness.”
dunyarzad is going to faint. her sickness has chosen the worst possible time to exist. an absolute god of a woman before her, and instead she must feel terribly dizzy? the warrior-goddess acknowledged her!
it takes all of her strength to maintain the poise of the princess she is supposed to be, and she dips her head back.
“just wanted to let you know that your boyfriend’s here to pick up collei,” dehya turns to general cyno, who blinks in realization.
“thank you, dehya,” general cyno says, and dunyarzad’s mostly sure that his eyes are far brighter than they were a moment ago.
it’s kind of sweet, honestly, and it confirms that he is not with dehya. she ignores the blossom of relief this brings about.
dehya nods to the rest of them, and then leaves, which absolutely does not break her heart. she is a princess, and she will not behave like this. she knows better.
“i was not aware you were involved with anyone, general,” her father chooses to say, and dunyarzad frowns. she recognizes that tone of voice, even if she doesn’t understand why.
“we have not yet had a chance to announce our relationship,” general cyno responds. “it was… difficult, to say the least, during the war, but we persevered.”
“i see,” shahzaman says, voice clipped. “my belated congratulations, then. i wish the two of you a long life together.”
“thank you,” general cyno dips his head, and with that the topic returns smoothly to what they had been discussing prior dehya’s appearance.
it frustrates her, however. she does not understand why her father had been so upset. he had hidden it well, as courtesy requires, but she knows him, and she knows that he had not liked general cyno’s response. but why?
i was not aware you were involved with anyone – and he had sounded angry.
no. not angry. disappointed.
the realization brings with it a fresh wave of fury. disappointment? the only possible reason for her father to be disappointed with general cyno’s relationship status would be if he preferred it to be nonexistent. dunyarzad has never thought her father to be the type of person that disapproves of a relationship with two men – that cannot possibly be it.
no, he was disappointed because he wanted to see if general cyno was an avenue of opportunity for her.
of course. she had known from the beginning that many of ormos’ nobles consider her only a tool to produce future heirs – had known that they saw this voyage as way for her to meet eligible young men from other kingdoms – but she had never believed that her father agreed.
was she only here for him to find someone to marry her off? had she truly never managed to prove to him a single thing of her own merit?
she doesn’t see dehya again for the rest of the discussions, and thus she is granted no reprieve from her thoughts.
the journey back to ormos is supposed to be quiet. she knows that shahzaman will remain deep in thought, carefully considering every aspect of their discussions in hermanubis, and she knows not to expect anything from him during this time.
the journey back to ormos is supposed to be quiet. but trapped inside of her caravan, listening to the battle raging outside, dunyarzad finds it to be quite the opposite.
they were so foolish! of course a nation fresh out of a civil war would not have its populace entirely pacified – of course there would be traitors who would see the royalty of a nearby kingdom as a perfect target.
dunyarzad is ill. there is nothing she can do. her guards are doing their best to defend her caravan but the glimpses of fighting she catches through the window – the screams that she can hear penetrating through the wind – are not exactly reassuring.
she realizes slowly, horrified, that this is where she dies. she’d never expected it to be like this. from the day she was diagnosed with eleazar, they had all known she would never make very long, but she’d thought – she’d hoped – that she would have a few more years, at least.
the shouting is increasing in volume, outside. dunyarzad grips her knife tighter – although what good would it do her, when she had no knowledge of how to use it – and prays to kusanali that it will at least be quick. eleazar would have killed her slowly. at least a sword or an arrow would end her pain sooner.
her sickness is acting up again. her left hand has gone completely numb, and while in a normal situation it would recede again soon, dunyarzad finds herself wondering if she will die without feeling in her limbs. it was to be expected, honestly, much as she fears it.
it’s odd – the shouting is really quite loud, now. if she is going to die, anyway, it might as well be on her feet, no?
so she finds herself standing, using the side of the caravan to push herself up on shaking legs. she nearly falls, and she finds herself thinking of kusayla’s cane. if it wouldn’t break her father’s heart, she would’ve asked for one years ago.
perhaps the stories were right, when they said that the moments before your death were always terribly unpredictable.
she forces herself to keep going. when she is killed, she wants her death to have honor. she will not shame her kingdom by dying unaware.
when she pushes the door open, trips her way onto the sand and falls to the ground, it’s less elegant than she would’ve wanted. but at least she is out of that terrible, cramped space, even as the metallic smell of blood crowds its way to her nose.
she refuses to look at the bodies surrounding her.
dunyarzad looks up, towards the source of the cries, to see… a torch?
no, a flame, red and tinged golden. as she watches, it lashes out, explodes through the clouds of sand, and a figure that she does not recognize flies through the air and smashes into the ground.
and then a claymore spins through, an entire wave of flames following it, and the dust clears to reveal dehya.
dunyarzad’s breath catches in her throat. a god-woman, indeed, of course she would have the blessings of a god! her fire is beautiful. of course, of course, none other but a beloved of haborym would be able to burn as brightly.
the flame-mane. gods, it was so obvious. dunyarzad feels like a fool.
as she watches, dehya leans down to help a man up, and dunyarzad recognizes her father with a start. the relief floods through her unbidden, and she collapses with it. thank the gods. kusanali must have heard her pleas.
dehya looks up, eyes scanning the battlefield, and locks onto dunyarzad. the two of them, her savior and her father, make their way through the blood-drenched sands to her, and there is a long moment where none of them dare to speak.
shahzaman is the first to move, and he rushes towards her, sweeping her up in a tight embrace. dunyarzad is left speechless for a long moment - he has never shared his affections so openly in years, afraid to look at her, afraid that she would be more and more sick each time he saw her.
“dunyarzad,” he says, and his voice is as choked up as she feels. “my daughter. i thought i’d lost you.”
“are you alright, your highness?” dehya asks, standing above them like a god-sent miracle.
“yeah,” she breathes out. her left hand twitches. “gods. i’m okay. nobody found me. are - are you okay? the both of you?”
“i’m good,” dehya says, leaning over to clap a hand on dunyarzad’s shoulder in reassurance. her hand is warm, and the feel of it remains even after she stands back up. there’s electricity underneath dunyarzad’s skin, now. “his majesty is alright as well.”
she forces herself to her feet, doing her best to pull her father up with her, and bows deeply towards dehya. “you have saved our lives. we owe you a great debt.”
dehya blinks at them, and then shakes her head immediately. “nah, don’t say that. it’s my job. i’m just sorry i didn’t get here sooner,” and then she pauses, straightens up. “speaking of! allow me to escort the two of you back, at least to the gates of ormos.”
“it would be greatly appreciated,” shahzaman says, bowing as well. “and truly – is there nothing we can offer you? riches? protection? a position in ormos’ court?”
“a position in ormos’ court?” dehya repeats, raising a brow and grinning. “hey, i’m just a mercenary. i appreciate it, though.”
“no,” he says, and dunyarzad can practically see the way he pounces on the opportunity. “i would like to offer you the position of my daughter’s bodyguard.”
what.
she freezes, and then turns to her father. she’s had bodyguards before, of course, but she’s never known her father to so brazenly offer the position to someone he does not know.
“i spoke about it with your father and the general mahamatra, earlier,” he continues. “it would be quite beneficial for both of our kingdoms to develop a closer relation.”
dehya blinks, clearly taken aback, and dunyarzad finds herself relating. what in kusanali’s name was he thinking? especially now, so suddenly?
“well, i’m honored,” dehya finally responds. “after i bring you back to ormos, i do have to return back to hermanubis, but i’ll let you know my answer as quickly as i can.”
shahzaman inclines his head in acknowledgement. “thank you, flame-mane.”
dunyarzad’s face is on fire. she is not going to be able to handle it if dehya will be around her as her bodyguard for the foreseeable future. this is terrible.
it’s at the entrance to ormos that dehya bids them farewell. dunyarzad is sorry to see her go, disappointment welling up in her chest before she can stop it. dehya’s company had been wonderful, in all honesty, even if it had been a great effort to keep her face from turning bright red every time dehya spoke to her. it would not be appropriate behavior for a princess.
but – how could anyone blame her? dehya is kind, and quick-witted, and dunyarzad has never felt more like a royal than in the way that the mercenary speaks to her. it feels like liquid fire in her veins.
“i think i’ll take the job,” dehya says suddenly, leaning against a wall as they wait, dunyarzad’s father in the process of calling for a new caravan to return them to the capital.
dunyarzad chokes, her brain freezing for a brief second in an attempt to process the words that she just heard. it still does not compute.
“oh, please do not feel like you have to because of my father,” she responds quickly, glancing towards the mercenary. she wants to get to know dehya better, of course, but she doesn’t want it to be forced. to have to deal with a sick princess constantly must be a nightmare.
“nah, don’t worry, princess,” dehya responds, lips curled up in a smirk and eyes slanted towards her. “i wouldn’t mind being able to talk with you more.”
dunyarzad turns red, offering dehya a quick bow to try to cover up the way her face is burning up. “then i am deeply grateful to you!”
“no need to be,” her voice softens, even as dunyarzad refuses to look up, “you could have died. that would be a great tragedy, and i’m invested in preventing that from happening now.”
she dares to glance at dehya, and the way the mercenary’s piercing eyes are trained on her is doing terrible things to dunyarzad, but she straightens and dips her head in acknowledgement. “i am also invested,” she responds, words halting, “in seeing you more often, dehya.”
dehya’s eyes widen, and dunyarzad winces. had she misstepped by referring to her by name? despite her job as a mercenary, dehya does hold a high position in hermanubis’ court. was it improper? has dunyarzad misread all of the signs?
but then dehya grins at her.
“well, it seems like that’s what’s going to happen, princess!” dehya’s smile is blinding, vivid as the flames she controls, and dunyarzad can feel herself falling in love all over again. “i’ll see you soon.”
“yeah,” dunyarzad repeats dazedly, her usual eloquence long gone in the face of such brilliance. “i’ll see you soon.”