Work Text:
Sara has been out of Inazuma before. She hasn't, however, ever been out of it on anything but official business, which this is not.
There are no doubt official, if secret, reasons; the Raiden Shogun would not have given her a personal order to take two weeks off and 'enjoy a holiday' without some cause. But if the Raiden Shogun wished her to know that cause, she would have told her when she gave the order. Sara's duty is to trust in the Shogun's wisdom, and obey.
It had been Shinobu who had suggested Liyue's current cultural festival, and while Sara regrets that an already-contracted job had prevented her from accompanying Sara, who gladly would have paid, she's glad that she took her friend's suggestion nonetheless. The Lantern Rite has proven an enjoyable opportunity to relax in a place where it is not her duty to be attentively vigilant against all disruption and crime.
Unfortunately, that doesn't keep her from a certain low-level state of vigilance, the watchfulness ingrained in her since youngest childhood. The festival crowd is loud and noisy and, after long enough, exhausting. The morning after the festivities, Sara lasts long enough to obtain a few souvenir gift envelopes and have a pleasant chance meeting, then retreats to the heights above the city. The highest heights possible.
She scales Mount Tianheng until she's out of sight of civilians, then lets herself spread her wings and fly the rest of the way. The winds around the mountain seem almost made for such flight, carrying her upwards with far greater ease than she was expecting. Many aspects of flight have proven difficult since the Shogun commanded that she begin its practice again.
Atop the mountain, she can look down and see all of Liyue Harbor spread below, resplendent with lanterns and banners and joyful crowds. Up here all of those people are blurs of cheerful color, rather than a swirling mass of potential disturbances and threats. She watches the sights below in meditative silence, feeling always-tense muscles gradually relax. Even her wings feel only pleasantly exercised, instead of the dull ache she had expected after mounting such a height.
"Child, how did you find yourself here?"
Sara spins, hand going unthinkingly to string and nock a bow she isn't wearing, horrified that anyone could have gotten the drop on her. The sight behind her, though, explains all. The adepti of Liyue have some similarities to the youkai of Inazuma, but they are made, not born; she is no scholar, but she knows they gain their powers and forms through cultivation that makes only the eldest and greatest youkai their equals. There is nothing else that the great crane behind her, so brilliantly colored and nearly glowing with power, could be.
"If I have intruded upon sacred ground, I apologize."
"Very respectful of you. One approves." The crane flips her wings, then folds them back in. Her head tilts in thoughtful study. "However, in this case, no apology is needed. This is not Jueyun Karst. One merely wished to view the city from above, and was curious about your presence."
"I see," Sara says, bowing regardless. "Then to answer your question, I both climbed and flew."
"On those wings?" The crane's head tilts farther, craning to inspect them more closely.
"Yes," Sara answers, puzzled by the question.
"One is impressed you were capable, given their sad state. Do you have no parents who could teach you to preen them properly?"
The crane has brought her head up to study Sara's face, now, and Sara would swear there's an avaricious glint in her eye. She senses an odd weight to the question.
"I left my tengu parents' nest when I was very young. Takayuki- my adoptive father was human, and could not. But the Almighty Shogun has never seen fit to criticize my appearance," she can't help but add.
"One is not criticizing your appearance, child, one is criticizing those who should have educated you in their care. Oils must be preened in, not washed out. Look at how brittle your feathers are! And your primaries should not be cramped so close together, nor your joints held at those angles in rest. Flight must be dreadfully difficult for you in such a state."
Sara bites her tongue on further indignation. It is true that she had just been reflecting on how difficult reacquiring flight has proven to be--and even if it were not true, this is one of Liyue's holy protectors. To dispute her could potentially become an international incident.
Besides, as it is true, and the adeptus seems as concerned as she is indignant-
"It seemed easier as a child," she admits. "However, I broke both wings in a fall, and after-" Explaining Takayuki's wordless disapproval, how it had possessed the weight of an order despite never becoming one, would be too difficult for this moment. "-I recovered fully, it was difficult to relearn."
"Hmmm," the crane says, and then, "Turn around. Poor healing may be the culprit, but their state still would not help, and one can only determine the extent to which it is undermining your skills by repairing the damage."
There is no recourse that would not involve insulting her. Sara turns around.
Her shoulders are tight, her elbows tight to her sides, as she awaits some painful tug at her feathers. But instead there's only the lightest and most delicate of touches, a gentle nibbling that she doesn't need to brace against at all. Alongside it is an energy as intense as the crackling power of the Sacred Sakura, but with none of its familiar Electro bite--rather, this one has the sense of a breeze, of cool mountain air brushing against her feathers as the crane preens them, one by one, into place.
It's a long, slow, almost meditative process. Slowly Sara's shoulders loosen; slowly her arms hang limp. She has to catch herself, once, when she nearly wavers on her feet. She hasn't felt anything so relaxing, so comforting, since....
She doesn't recall her parent's faces any more. But there's a flash of unexpected memory, a stern, masculine voice at odds with the gentle hands massaging her wings as her first childhood pinfeathers start to unfurl. Sara swallows against a thickening in her throat.
"There," the crane says at last, satisfied, and steps back. "One has released your blocked oil glands, and added oil of one's own to supplement what you have been washing out. Humans should not be permitted to educate a child on their care if they aren't aware of all the necessities that child requires themselves. Is this adoptive father in the city with you?" That avaricious glint is back in her eye.
"He is confined in Inazuma, awaiting judgement for treason."
The crane flips her wings, head drawing up, flipping her feathers. "Then you have no one to care for you. Very well. One has an abode in Liyue Harbor, as well as one's adeptal abode in Jueyun Karst. One is willing to abide in whichever you prefer, or you may wish to travel between them as one has taken to doing. One's other daughters will be glad to welcome you-"
"I'm not a child," Sara breaks in hurriedly, as the crane takes an eager step towards her. "I am a general of the Tenryou Commission, and dedicated to the service of the Almighty Shogun. I appreciate your worry, but it isn't necessary."
One foot upraised, the crane pauses mid-step, head tilting, the glint fading again from her eye. "Ah," she says, stiffly. "One misunderstood the situation."
For a moment Sara wonders what form her displeasure might take. Then she sets her foot down, spreads her wings wide, flaps them energetically, folds them to her sides, and lifts her head high.
"No matter. One's duty is still to instruct those younger than oneself in matters they do not understand. Attend closely, and we will attempt to amend your flight abilities before you depart."
Again, Sara has no room to refuse, and little desire to. Aid from someone who knows more than she does, and with whom there is no risk of embarrassment or loss of authority from admitting her troubles....
"I will attend," she tells the crane.
"What a good student." A breeze whips up around them, brisk and cool. "If the remaining problems do turn out to be mechanical, I will whip up a device... but one will begin with diagnostics. Come, child!"
Sara spreads her neatly-preened wings and feels, for the first time since she was indeed a child, light rather than ungainly as they catch the wind.