Chapter Text
Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa’s eternal winter has spread beyond the bounds of Snezhnaya. Nod-Krai was taken first. The Marionette abandoned her Kuuvahki Experimental Design Bureau - leaving her research, something she would never do under normal circumstances. Or extreme circumstances. Aino built a barrier for Nasha Town, though no one knows how long they can hold out. The fate of the Frostmoon Scions is unknown, their Goddess having abandoned them to the bitter cold.
Mondstadt was consumed by the blizzard next. Now, it was Fontaine’s turn.
Hotel Bouffes d'Été, Court of Fontaine, Fontaine
Arlecchino snapped her fingers, and the hearth blazed with flame, as if it had been burning for hours. She knew Freminet was devastated by the seas freezing over - her son loved diving more than anything, except his family, of course. She made sure his priorities were clear. Always. She both couldn’t, and wouldn’t, help him. The House of the Hearth never coddles its children.
I wonder, she mused, what has become of my dear colleagues?
Her question was answered by a light, airy voice. Sweet, melodic singing, coming closer.
“Dormi, cara Columbula~
Oh, Columbula mea~
Senti ad fenestram~”
“-Adsint somnians flora,” Arlecchino finished. “Hello, Columbina.”
The girl at the doorframe froze. She was draped in a flowing white dress, and had floor-length midnight hair with magenta highlights. Six small white wings protruded from the back of her head. A white blindfold covered her eyes, but Arlecchino knew those eyes were closed. No living being has ever seen them open. If you did… well, usually you would become not a living being very quickly.
Columbina began walking over, though she seemed to be gliding more than walking. Her bare feet did not touch the ground.
“How have you been, Arle~?”
Despite knowing The Damselette well, Arlecchino still considered her eerie. Especially when she used that lilting, sing-song tone.
“Skip the pleasantries, Columbina. You and I both know we have no time for them,” Arlecchino responds, coldly.
Columbina comes over, slipping behind her. The Damselette places a slender hand on Arlecchino’s shoulder, brushing aside locks of white hair as she does so.
“The hearthflame cannot burn away all shadow until it sets all ablaze. Or else, to the other end of light, lie still bleak shades,” Columbina whispers.
“Then, little dove, ashen smoke will rise, until the moonglow finds darkness no more,” said Arlecchino, fully aware of just how close The Damselette’s hands were to her throat. This was a girl who could just as easily choke her as kiss her. No one understood Columbina.
“Haha~ I love you, Arle…”
Yes, thought Arlecchino, but how long will that last?
Hypostyle Desert, Sumeru
Why does it have to be me? WHY ME??? Thought Beta, wrapping his coat tighter around himself as he walked through the pyramid’s halls. Out of all the segments, all the equally intelligent copies of Il Dottore, it had to be him. Chosen to investigate these old, decrepit ruins, left over from King Deshret’s reign.
Prime was convinced that these ancient buildings held clues pertaining to the Floral Crown. Beta didn’t get it. At all. Why were they looking for the Flower Goddess’s horns? So they could get rid of the eternal winter, Prime had said. But why were they getting rid of the eternal winter? Because it is the Tsaritsa’s will, and we are the Harbingers of Her new world. But if it was the Tsaritsa’s will that they get rid of the cold, why did She even cause the eternal winter in the first place? You’ll see, was Prime’s answer. So now, Beta was trekking through Sumeran ruins. In a desert. A frozen desert, thanks to the Tsaritsa. In the middle of nowhere.
WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE ME?
No one responded.
Zapolyarny Palace, Snezhnaya
Everything was going according to plan. Good, thought Pierro. Still, when dealing with the gods… Too much could go wrong. No, he tamped out those considerations, this is the best plan we have. I need to trust Her Majesty. They were chosen to be Her Harbingers, and Her Majesty does not make mistakes.
The Rooster entered the room, two guards pushing open the double doors for him. Long ago(not that long), when Tartaglia had first met Pulcinella, he had gazed at The Rooster in awe and wonder, wisely commenting, “You’re really short…”
This statement was true. Is true. Because Pulcinella was indeed very short. And he had a long nose. In fact, he was the only Harbinger who was not especially goodlooking. Very sad.
“Let this conference commence,” Pierro’s deep voice rang out.
Road, Mondstadt
The carriage hit a bump in the road. The two people inside shook slightly. Sandrone was annoyed. Very annoyed. Then again, she was always annoyed.
“So, what are we? A cult? A cult with weapons?” She demanded.
“Please, do not speak of Her Majesty that way. If this is her will, then we, her loyal Harbingers, will carry it out,” responded the armoured man sitting opposite to her. Sandrone groaned, rolling her eyes.
“Why are we even here? Besides your dumb Tsatritsa’s will?” She asked, mockingly.
“We are here to seek Kheanri’ahn technology, and will travel through Mondstadt, Liyue, and Sumeru to reach the Gates of Kheanri’ah,” The Captain explained, unperturbed.
“I knew that! But how does this help my research?”
“You will be able to see Kneanri’ahn technology.”
Sandrone crossed her arms and looked out the window, not speaking. Capitano did not know what he did wrong. The carriage hit another bump. Sandrone was seriously considering pushing that driver off.
Ochkanatlan, Natlan
“I hate this,” huffed Scaramouche, heaving himself over yet another piece of rubble.
“Hey, comrade, don’t be so gloomy! C’mon, more monsters to fight, this way!” Tartaglia called, already pushing ahead.
“Now I hate you,” The Balladeer complained, adjusting his hat against the sun. He climbed over a chunk of wall. Tartaglia knew his friend didn’t mean it.
Somewhere Else
“Funny, isn’t it? How quickly humans betray,” laughed Rhinedottir.
“I disagree,” Ronova said, calmly, “I doubt the Eleven Fatui Harbingers would be so simple. Their actions are inherently contradictory to their words. They seek to combat The Tsaritsa’s eternal winter, and say they’re acting on The Tsaritsa’s will? No. We’re missing something.”
“We’ll see. Eventually. Now… we wait,” Istaroth hummed.