Chapter Text
Third Person POV, 500 Years Ago:
Every person who lived within Teyvat knew of the horrors that came from the Abyss. All nations had dealt with their fair share of death as a result of it, but no nation had suffered quite as much as Natlan. Since the nation’s birth, the Natlanese people were plagued with having to fight off the Abyss. It became a part of everyday life; it was all-consuming.
Natlan wasn’t referred to as the Nation of War for nothing. All able-bodied people took pride in fighting for their nation, even with the assumption that they could die at any moment. There was no greater honour than fighting and dying for one’s homeland.
Although the Abyss had been a deadly nuisance throughout history, it was at its worst just after the fall of Khaenri’ah had occurred. Worldwide, people from all nations struggled against it, but Natlan had to deal with the very worst of it, alongside some displaced Khaenri’ahn individuals.
In any other circumstance, having an influx of people whose homeland had just been destroyed might’ve been a problem. Finding jobs and homes for everyone would by no means be an easy task. However, under the ever-consuming presence of war, Natlan was very grateful to have more people to help out and fight. The more, the merrier.
Perhaps no one was as grateful though as the Archon, Mavuika. Seeing her nation in so much pain and in such a state of disarray hurt her deeply. She did all she could do, organizing troops and joining in the battle herself. But, there was only so much her people could do. Not everyone was fit to fight, and she wasn’t about to push people beyond their limits. She wanted to spare as many casualties as she could.
Having the Khaenri’ahn people there to help fight for her nation was the best thing she could’ve hoped for. Whenever she got the chance, she’d personally thank them all for serving a nation that wasn’t even their own. Their selflessness was beyond admirable, and she knew she’d forever be in their debt.
The only upside of war, Mavuika learned, was that it allowed for her to grow and foster deep, genuine bonds with those she fought with. The type of bond that came from the horrors of all they had to go through was something else entirely, something else that couldn’t be replicated in any normal circumstances. Seeing a close friend die right in front of you, crying into the arms of a comrade – it changed you. It shaped you. And it shaped the relationships you had with your fellow warriors.
Throughout the ceaseless days, weeks, years of fighting, Mavuika got to know her fellow fighters on a deeply personal level. On the off chance that they weren't fending off the creatures of the Abyss, they’d have late-night talks around a campfire, speaking of their deepest, most closely-guarded secrets. Nothing was off the table. A lot of them believed they’d die sooner than later, and they didn’t wish to die with any sheltered regrets or unspoken sentiments.
Strangers became acquaintances, and acquaintances became close friends. This was true among the Natlanese, but it was also true between the Khaenri’ahn people and those from Natlan. Mavuika learned that first-hand.
Though she spent most of her time with troops composed of her own people, she did frequently encounter and fight with Khaenri’ahn individuals. Most notable being the Sentinel Knight, Thrain.
A man of few words, and seemingly even fewer emotions. It was commonplace among warriors to speak of their most inner thoughts as if it were nothing, but even amidst war, Thrain kept his opinions and his history closely-guarded, known to none.
It intrigued Mavuika, it bothered her, even. She wanted to know why he behaved so differently from everyone else she knew. She wanted to get to know him better.
It started with a simple conversation. One about a lack of medicinal resources.
“I heard your people were running low on medical supplies. I asked the doctor I’ve been staying with if he could spare some things. Here you go.” Thrain brandishes a bag filled with a variety of much-needed medical supplies, offering it to Mavuika.
Clasping her hands together, she beams with delight.
“Thank you so much! You really didn’t have to do that. I know that you need this stuff, too. Are you sure this is okay?”
“It’s nothing. It’s the least we could do for your people being so kind and accommodating in offering us temporary housing.” Thrain shrugs it off, turning to walk away. However, Mavuika stops him by unexpectedly wrapping her arms around him in a gentle hug.
Surprised, Thrain pauses, before hesitantly returning the gesture and bidding farewell.
After their first official encounter, Mavuika tries to get any excuse to talk with him again. She knew so little of him, but what she did know, she greatly admired. She felt she had to repay him in some way for his generosity. He hadn’t needed to alert his people of Natlan’s need for supplies, but he took it upon himself to do so anyway.
Their second encounter began with a fight.
“Advance forward, slowly!” Mavuika shouts, motioning with her arm for her fellow soldiers to continue on fighting. She could see the fear in their eyes, the hints of doubt in their movements, but they also knew better than to go against her orders. She was never wrong in her assertions, and they didn’t believe that would change any time soon. The warriors fight on, slowly by surely chipping away at the hoards of approaching Abyssal monsters that threatened to uproot all they knew and loved.
Mavuika stands at the forefront, making sure that if something were to go astray, she’d take the brunt of the blow as opposed to her people. Such was the role of an Archon. Your people always came first, even if it meant self-sacrifice.
It’s when she looks behind her shoulder for just a moment to check on the state of those fighting behind her that it happens. Out of seemingly nowhere, an Abyssal-tainted Yumkasaurus extends its claws, threatening to tear Mavuika’s delicate skin right off the bone.
But, by some means of fate, the attack is blocked just in time to avoid immediate catastrophe. Barely even recognizing what was going on, but still being alert enough to have registered the sound of metal hitting Abyssal flesh, Mavuika turned around to take a proper look at what she had missed.
Lodged into the neck of the Yumkasaurus is a silver-blue blade, shimmering in the late-evening sun. Holding the weapon is a man she surely recognizes, the same man who had caught her attention not so long ago.
His deep blue eyes stare into her bright ones as he swishes his blade, flicking the tainted blood off of it in the single motion. He then sheathes it, extending his hand to place it on her shoulder.
“You need to be more careful. The last thing that your nation needs is the death of their Archon,” he states. Though his words sounded cold, almost demeaning, his tone relayed his true intentions. His voice was soft, gentle, almost concerned. It was clear that he cared, even if he had an odd way of showing it.
“Thank you, again. For helping me.” Mavuika laughs nervously, feeling somewhat embarrassed by her fumble. It was extremely unlikely for her to not see an approaching enemy, especially one that should’ve been so close to her line of vision. If the worst had happened and the Yumkasaurus had attacked her, she likely would’ve survived the attack, but the injury that would have resulted from it would most certainly not be a welcome sight. She knew that she needed to be in her peak state in order to continue defending her people and fighting against the oncoming monsters.
Only a second passes, a single second where they lock eyes, but she feels a spark, an undeniable hint of understanding passing between the two of them. But, right after, she breaks the contact, prepared to continue fighting. This battle was far from over.
It took a while to get there, but by their third meeting, they finally manage to meet under less stressful and desperate terms. A rare but extremely welcome break in-between battles.
Mavuika was busy resting her eyes, leaning against a lone tree that had rooted itself near the edge of a cliff. It was a spot she loved greatly, though she rarely ever came here. She never had time to herself these days, with everything that was going on. This was the first time that she was able to come here in longer than she could even recall.
Somewhere between consciousness and sleep, she lay there, arms crossed over her chest, her fire-coloured hair spread out around her like a halo of flame. It’s only when she hears approaching footsteps that she chooses to open her eyes to make sure it wasn’t an enemy or a monster who intended to harm her.
In a single, swift motion, she grabbed her claymore that rested beside her, pointing it effortlessly towards her approaching company. However, when she has escaped from the stupor of half-sleep, she realizes who she was pointing her weapon towards, and sets it right down, recognizing that her sudden panic was unfounded and unnecessary.
Thrain stands here, his hands raised above him in compliance. He seems oddly unphased for having just been threatened by a God, but other than that, he’s the same as ever.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t expect to have company of any sort. I certainly wasn’t expecting you to come here,” Mavuika apologies, standing up to talk to him on his level.
“Am I unwelcome here?” Thrain questions. He looks around, admiring the view, but with a hint of uncertainty on his face. Sentinel Knight or not, he was in no position to disturb the Archon if she didn’t want him here.
“Not at all. I’d appreciate the company, if you wish to stay,” she responds, smiling gently. She sits back down, resting against the tree as she had done before. Still somewhat hesitant, Thrain moves to sit next to her, though still keeping ample distance between the two of them. They may be allies, but they were still virtual strangers.
Mavuika purses her lips in contemplation, before turning to look at Thrain.
“I wanted to personally thank you for all you’ve done for Natlan. I know fighting for a nation that isn’t yours isn’t an ideal scenario to be in, but you’ve aided a lot, and for that, I offer you my gratitude.” She balls her hand into a fist, reaching out to Thrain.
“...What’s that?” he asks, confusion evident in his tone.
“It’s a sign of peace. It’s just something I do. Here-” Mavuika uses her other hand to reach for his, curling his fingers, before bumping her fist against his.
“Like that.”
Although still unused to the gesture, and being a stranger to someone just simply reaching out and touching him, he doesn’t mind it. Her touch was gentle, delicate, caring. It hardly made sense to him how she could be the God of War, someone who fought in battles essentially each and everyday of her life.
“Also, I just wanted to say. If you ever feel like coming here to chat or otherwise, you’re welcome to do so. Don’t feel as if you’re bothering me. It does get lonely up here all alone, sometimes. I’d like to get to know more about you, anyway,” Mavuika mentions.
Thrain nods, agreeing to her proposal. He thought he could use a friend, too.
Though it wasn’t often, the two of them met up together whenever they had freetime to do so. Mavuika, though, got no closer to learning about who Thrain truly was. Sure, he talked of battle, occasionally of his people, but rarely ever about himself. She was unsure if it was due to self-consciousness, or just a general need to keep his past hidden from anyone. She was curious, but she knew better than to pry. His business was his, and hers was hers. It wasn’t like she told him everything about herself, either. She certainly shared more than he did, but she still kept some things secret.
The most important thing to her, the most essential, she kept entirely private. Her plan to save Natlan, once and for all. She feared that if she spoke her plan out loud, she’d begin to doubt herself. It was better staying within the confines of her own mind, where prying eyes and judging ears couldn’t pick it apart and place their uncertainty upon her.
She feared her family already knew. They knew her best in all aspects of life, so it wouldn’t be out of the question for them to have guessed what she intended on doing. Thrain, however, knew nothing, and she fully intended on keeping things that way. At least, until she had more certainty in herself and was closer to following through with what she had in mind, whenever that would be.
For now, though, she simply spent what little time she had with him discussing far more light-hearted topics. It was the wisest thing to do amidst the struggles they both had to face. The Abyss was a cruel and endless evil, but at least now, they had one another to lean on if needed.
Mavuika POV, 500 Years Ago:
I've made a lot of decisions in my life, but I’d be a fool if I claimed that any decision I’ve made in the past could even somewhat compare to the one I was having to make right now. Yet, even though this choice was a hefty one, I knew it had to be made.
Leaving behind the entire life I’d built wasn’t something I would do with no second thought. Even after thinking it over and over again, I knew it wouldn’t be easy. But if doing so could give my nation even the slightest chance of winning against the abyss, I had to do it. I was the Pyro Archon. My job was to protect my people, and this was the only way I could do so.
I’d already said my goodbyes to my family, shedding far more tears than I was hoping to. Even though I was going to get to see this world again, I knew that there was no way I’d ever be able to see them again, and it broke my heart. Nothing I told myself could ever fully ease that pain, but I knew that what I was doing was right, even if it hurt.
Parting was tearful, filled with sorrow. I’d told them of my plan prior to just simply leaving, but I understood that nothing could have properly prepared them for me actually leaving. They likely wanted to believe that I was bluffing, that I wasn’t telling the full truth. Maybe they were hoping that someone, or something else would take my place and magically fix the inevitable fate of Natlan. But, everything still eventually came down to me having to part ways with my family.
There was only one person left who I hadn’t said farewell to yet. Thrain.
I was never really sure where I stood with him. We weren’t enemies, no, gods no, but we weren’t what I’d consider super close. We’d spent a lot of time together, yet I never really got to know him. He kept his secrets well-guarded, just as I did with mine. Due to this, we didn’t ever have much to talk about, but sometimes, sitting together in silence was enough.
With the current on-going war, I didn’t see him all that often either. I was out defending my nation and doing all I could, and he was out fighting for his people. The monsters of the Abyss weren’t exactly just going to stop engaging in battle just because I wanted to spend more time with this man.
Despite all of that, though, I still felt a connection with him that I didn’t quite understand. At the surface level, we barely even knew one another, but every time I was with him, I felt a sense of comfort and familiarity that brought me peace. Even if I didn’t know about his past, that feeling I got when with him was enough for me to trust him.
Due to this, I figured the right thing to do would be to let him know of what was next to come. I wasn’t prepared to spill the contents of my entire plan, but at the very least, I could give him a brief explanation, anything to help him understand why I was doing this. I would’ve wanted – and expected – him to do the same.
I walked through the deserted battlefields, stepping over discarded bodies and broken weapons. Destruction and bloodshed. I kept strolling along until I came across an all-too-familiar tree, the tree that Thrain and I would always meet up at if we happened to have the time to. A place of solace and hard to come across silence.
As expected, he was there as well, leaning against the tree, gaze focused on the ground. I’d asked him the day before if he could meet me here, without giving away any details as to what I needed him for. Even if we weren’t that close, we were definitely still companions. If the roles were reversed and he were telling me I would never see him again, I would feel a sense of regret and sadness. I’ve been trying to postpone this moment for as long as I could for that reason.
“Thrain.”
“Mavuika.”
I cleared my throat awkwardly, not sure how to address what I had to say. I mean, how exactly do you bring up the fact that you’re about to die, but not forever, since you’re actually going to instead be reincarnated 500 years into the future? I don’t think there’s anyone I could go to for advice on such a thing.
He stands up straight, taking a step closer to me as a small smile graces his face, only making me feel more guilty. I’d never be able to see that smile again after today.
“I… have to tell you something,” I state shakily, avoiding his eye contact. I didn’t want to feel even worse than I already did if possible.
“And that is?”
“I know that you and I both fight to save our people. I want to be able to do all that I can do, as the Pyro Archon. And I’ve come up with a plan as to how to save Natlan. I won’t bore you with all of the details, but, today is my last day alive in this lifetime,” I continued, searching his face for any sign of a reaction.
While he at first seemed happy to see me, I can quickly see his smile fade as the true meaning of my words hit him. He stays silent for a moment after I speak, seemingly processing what I had just told him.
I inform him a bit of my reasoning as to why I’m making such a drastic decision, making sure to try and have it make as much sense as humanly possible. I wasn’t outright expecting anyone at all to understand the full extent of my plan, but I thought the least I could do when leaving a friend was give him a reason as to why I’m doing so. When I finish, I apologize, not knowing how to properly end my explanation.
“I’m sorry-”
“You don’t have to apologize. I trust your judgement. If you truly believe that what you’re doing is the best choice, then I believe so as well. I will miss you, though,” He eventually says with a sad smile.
“I’ll miss you too,” I admit, my voice wavering as tears welled up in my eyes.
I told myself I wouldn’t cry at this moment, but here we go.
Seeing my reaction, Thrain takes another step closer to me before wrapping his arms around me in a comforting embrace. It takes me a second to respond to his action, but once I do, I hug him back, resting my head on his shoulder.
I didn’t expect parting to hurt as much as it did. In a way, leaving my family wasn’t even the hardest part, given that they weren’t the last people I planned on speaking to. But now that I was saying goodbye to Thrain, my one and only friend, everything felt so final, so set in stone. I couldn’t turn around and abandon my path now. What was done was done, and I now had to continue onward, alone, leaving behind everyone that I loved.
We stay like this for a while, all our unspoken words somehow communicated in this one action. It was comforting, in a bittersweet sort of way. Eventually, he pulls away, cupping my face with his hand.
“Now, go save Natlan. I believe in you,” Thrain says, his thumb gently running over my cheek. My face burns red from the simple, delicate touch. I wasn’t used to receiving affection from people other than my family.
“I will.”
The two of us part, but not before I take one final glance back at him to see his smile beaming like the sun.
I’ll miss that smile.
Capitano POV, 500 Years Ago:
As she parts, I feel a deep ache in my chest. There was so much more I wanted to tell her, but it was never my place to do so. Even if I had the time, I didn’t deserve the chance to utilize it. I was longing for someone who was never mine to begin with.
I slump back against the tree we were standing by, watching her fade into the distance, knowing I’ll never see her again in my lifetime. Part of me considers shouting out to her, begging her to come back so that I can give her a proper farewell. Yet, I don’t. I can’t.
We didn’t know each other for all that long, but I felt a connection with her I could never put into proper words. Maybe I was overthinking it or making it all out to be something bigger than it really was. After all, when you’re dealing with the conflict of war, any companionship at all is worth way more than it would be during an ordinary day of life. Even still, though, what I felt for her ran deeper than just simple companionship.
I’d imagined being with her in a simpler life, a simpler time, where we could simply enjoy one another’s company, not because it was all we had, but because we genuinely wanted to. But, then again, would we even find each other in a world like that?
Maybe it was better that our lives were riddled with war and pain. Amidst the ache, I thrived. Her and I were meant to be warriors, to fight to save the people we cared about. As much as I wanted to share a docile, domestic life with her, that’s not a fate we were ever destined to have.
In my mind’s eye, though, I can picture it so clearly. Chatting about the most mundane of topics, or just letting the silence do the talking for us. In a world where she didn’t have to leave her family behind. But that life was not this one.
At the end of the day, though, she was an Archon. I was just a simple warrior of Khaenri’ah. She didn’t even have to owe me the time of day, let alone sit and talk with me whenever she had the chance. That was enough for me. It was more than enough.
Even still, though. I couldn’t get over one thought that dwelled in my mind and ate away at my sanity.
I’d never get to tell her that I love her.
In my imagination, I could see something so clearly. A memory, not of something real, but of something akin to a dream. Something I could never quite grasp, as it was always just out of my reach. Tantalizingly close, agonizingly so.
It was some memory I had of standing in a landscape eerily similar to the one I now called home, but differing in every way. It felt too empty, too vast. Where there should be structures, there was nothingness; the land was barren for as far as the eye could see. But that was the least of my concerns. Looking at the bigger picture, that was far from the only thing that was amiss.
This world was devoid of colour, devoid of life. The bright orange, green, and blue hues of Natlan that I had grown fond of were nowhere to be seen. All that remained was ominous blacks and purples, completely contrasting against every notion I had ever conjured up of Natlan.
And yet, even though this place felt so unsettlingly empty, whenever this memory flashed through my mind, I didn’t feel upset. I felt calm, at home, at peace. Though I didn’t know what this place was, or what it held, I found solace in it. It called to me, it beckoned.
Because beside me, Mavuika stood, as vibrant as ever. Her fiery hair stood out amidst the muted, unsettling colours of this foreign landscape. She smiled at me, before saying something. Something I could never hear, no matter how close I tried to listen. It was like every aspect of this memory was trying to draw me in, but as soon as I got close, I was shunned, pushed away. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t reality. The second I tried to lean in to hear her, the landscape would fade away. The memory would come to a close.
And now, whatever this imaginary memory was is all I had left of her. I’d only ever be able to see her face in reminiscence, in a dream.