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I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss of her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it. One.
CITY OF ANGELS, 1998
𓆩⚔𓆪
Varka was never one to heed the warnings.
He had the proclivity to be reckless, brazen, and most oftentimes drunk, despite the constant nagging in his ears by his elders. It’s what made the scars accumulate on every surface of his skin, after all. And yet he wears it in the fashion of a man flaunting his accolades and badges of honor — which is half true, by the way — some scars he earned through foolish escapades from his youth, and the rest from clashing swords against foes.
So, going back to his youth, of when he slept listened through three of his most boring of lectures; The Ancient History of Teyvat, Teachings of Philosophies, Hilichurl Cultural Customs — all of which Varka likes to call ‘snooze fest’ — he vaguely remembers the lecturer saying some stuff about these Angels or was it Seelies—
“... and so, this I tell you, children: this is why one must never fall in love with an Angel…”
—yeah, nope, he already dozed off to dreamland before he could learn the reason why. Much to the lecturer's dismay (and anger).
But quite frankly, he should have listened.
He should have taken those warnings to heart. If he did, he might have evaded this comical, twisted fate of him and the Angel named Nicole. Theirs is a story written and crossed by the stars themselves, no thanks to the Heavenly Principles.
“Mr. Varka! Why are you here all alone?”
Varka almost jumps at the gleeful voice echoing loudly in his mind. He could hear her wide grin even without a look on her face, as though optimism and unadulterated happiness pours out from even the slightest lilt of her voice.
“You scared me there, Miss Nicole. Try warning me next time, will ya?” Varka grumbles, wiping off the droplets of liquor that splattered on his mouth and on his chestplate.
Nicole fills the empty space beside Varka. She was laughing a little, setting both of her hands on the railing. And suddenly, the buzzing noises of chatter from inside the Flagship disappears. Neon lights reflected on the soft hues of her hair and eyes, decorating her face rightfully vibrant in the lonely darkness of the night.
She is beautiful.
“Sorry for that.” Her voice now low enough to be comprehensible and not like an omniscient god was about to come and get him.
Varka extends the drink in his hand towards her.
“Oh, thank you, but I… don’t really drink.” Nicole politely declines.
Varka pulls back the cup.
He laughs then shrugs, “More for me, then… Ahem, so, what brings you out here?”
Nicole’s eyes averts Varka’s gaze, “I’m here to apologize for earlier. I may have been too harsh towards you.”
“What? Really? If I remember it correctly, you’ve already apologised.” Varka takes a swig, his throat already burning up. “Any more would be unnecessary.”
“Still, the infusion of high doses of Kuuhvaki may affect your temperament, as well as your cognitive function, the temporary damage may cause you to — ” Nicole pours out her entire stream of consciousness inside Varka’s head. The latter thinks he might get drunk sooner than he thought, and it wouldn’t be because of the alcohol.
“Hold your thoughts, Miss Nicole. Relax. I’m totally fine. I assure you.” Varka laughs, “Why don’t we talk about other things instead?”
Nicole smiles, as did her eyes, “What other things?”
Varka needs to think of something clever, but well, he couldn’t, “I mean, I have been wondering. Could you read minds?”
Nicole raises her brows in mild surprise, “Oh, uhm, only if I want to. But, but don’t worry, I rarely ever do that. It would be rude of me to peek inside thoughts that are well within the privacy of one’s own mind, don’t you think?”
“I agree.” Varka says, relieved.
“I am also not privy to anyone’s innermost thoughts. Unless necessary, of course. Only Miss Alice is keen on those kinds of things," Nicole’s cheeks are red as berries, “oh, but don’t tell her I said that!"
Varka leans his back on railings, his body now faced towards the Flagship, and his eyes remain on the maiden beside him. She was certainly an endearing lady, he realized.
“Of course, of course! It's pretty easy to keep a secret that little, haha!” Varka says, “I wonder why Alice has been mum about you, Miss Nicole. You would make a pretty terrific teacher, I'll tell you that.”
This makes Nicole’s eyes sparkle, smile wider than seconds before, she clasps Varka’s free hand with both of hers, “You really, really think so? Oh gosh, I have been wanting to do that! If not for my duties as a guide, amongst other things, I would have been spending my days cooped up in the library and classrooms, just teaching the children all day!”
She faces the expanse of darkness before them, propping an elbow on the railings and rests her cheek on her hand. Her smile is all but dissipated; still there was sadness evident in her eyes, she is suddenly pensive.
“Didn’t know you were fond of children.” Varka says in an attempt to console her. He clears his throat, “Heavy is the crown that bears the weight, eh?”
“Indeed it is,” Nicole says, without any further explanation for once.
“Sir Varka… Have you ever longed for something beyond your reach?” She asks, melancholia laced in her voice.
Varka tries to think, but all of his thoughts are already muddled with intoxicating liquor, and his words must’ve come out slurred, “I, I don’t think so. No. Why do you ask?”
Nicole heaves a short sigh, “I long for something the others think of as mundane — but it’s all I ever wanted.”
“I’m not any scholar or savant, Miss Nicole, but if you so badly want something, then it doesn’t matter if others think of it as mundane. Doesn’t make it any less important, you know?”
“You are quite the wise man, Sir Varka. Very much different from what they’ve told me.” Nicole chuckles.
Surprisingly, it was pretty easy to cheer angels up.
Varka’s nose scrunches, “What? What have they been telling you about me?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just a few things, that's all.”
Varka lets out an accusatory hum, “Really?”
“Really.” Nicole repeats, the smile remains on her lips.
And Varka was all too aware of her eyes on his, and the short distance between her smooth, alabaster skin and his own — where scars sweep across his forearms rendering his skin callous to the touch. So, he keeps his distance, dare he wound the angel with his imperfections.
When he notices Nicole’s eyes remain in him for far longer than what he would consider a glance, Varka swallows, “Uhm, you reading my mind right now?”
“No, uh, not at all!” She immediately looks away at the accusation, blushing profusely now, “I mean, I should go. It’s getting really late.”
“Hold on, Miss Nicole. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Varka says apologetically, setting his empty tankard down the metal platform they currently stand on. It clinks along with the steadily increasing thumping in his chest.
Nicole shakes her head, “Don’t worry about it, Sir Varka. I really should get going.”
“I should walk you home, at least.” Varka offered, his footfalls on the metallic ground gave loud clangs.
“...Are you sure?”
“I promise you I’m not drunk,” Varka chuckles.
Nicole laughs in turn, shaking her head, “No, I am most certainly sure you are.”
“Nope. I’m not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not.”
“You are indeed very stubborn.”
“I just want to see to it that you get home safely.”
“...Alright, fine.”
Right after the mess in Nod-Krai, Nicole would keep visiting in Mondstadt on account of the convocations for the Hexenzirkel members – and the echoes of the wind would always wait to welcome her there.
Still, Varka could not stop thinking about their conversation right before Dottore almost brought ruin to the entirety of Teyvat. Varka is not stupid. Of course there was no meaning with what Nicole said — that he was someone special — he knew it wasn’t possible for Nicole to put him on a tier above everyone else.
But can’t a humble man hope?
To no one’s surprise, it wasn't that hard to fall in love with Nicole.
But to love her was a bleak and futile thing.
It was akin to being a flightless bird who is still millions of years away from gaining a pair of wings — waiting to evolve just for a chance to soar the distant skies. And they would keep waiting, and waiting, and waiting… only for nothing to ever happen.
Lightning in a bottle, really. Without even any ounce of an exaggeration.
He was whetting the blunt edges of his sword with a stone, the wear and tear have already made it dull, chipped, and no longer razor-sharp as it used to be. He blows off the excess curls of swarf as he leans his back on the giant oak tree, letting the polished sword rest beside him now.
Windrise has always been his refuge whenever he’s down, it was his escape for whenever things felt too much for him. The vast green plain is sort of a cushion for his overbearing thoughts, and the soft, silken breeze became his companion in what he would otherwise call 'solitude'. Varka never felt too lonely in his bide.
But there was no hiding from the swell of emotion that he could not even begin to explain. He laughs to himself sometimes. Because where the hell do you go if you want to escape from the mortifying ordeal of being in love with an angel you are not allowed to fall in love with?
Varka had no gods he could pray to with this predicament. No one would be able to grant him what he wanted without punishing him in turn. It demanded sacrifice. And that’s why his prayers remained static, barge at sea, stuck infinitely inside the depths of his mind.
No prophets could have foreseen that even in the presence of countless gods, Varka would lay his faith to the one angel his soul longs for.
There were flutters of pristine-white feathers that cascaded their way on to Varka’s lap. Another brushed softly against the slope of his nose. A short rustle of her wings followed. Usually he’d guess it was Barbatos, but now… he almost chokes being out of breath in anticipation, it had been Nicole for the longest time now.
Her official visits always did include Varka in her itinerary — or so he hoped. Whenever there’s a convocation, Nicole always knew where he was, and she would visit. No matter how hard he tried to hide from her.
Double-edge sword. That metaphor’s gotten old, yet it still nicks Varka all the same.
“Found you,” Her voice echoed inside his mind.
He looked to his left and there she was.
Lips already widened to a smile, her halo ablaze on top of her head, and eyes brimming with optimism, bearing the same colors as the setting sun. The pair of wings behind her swished before dissipating into fiery embers, residues in its wake glided along with the wind.
And Varka, if not for his rationality, might have already gone and said something stupid like: “oh my god, I can’t believe my eyes.” in a deadpan voice or something even more stupider like, “I am so unbearably and irrevocably in love with you.” Somewhere along those lines, whatever.
But, again, Varka is not stupid. And yes, he is in love, but it has nowhere it can go. So, he keeps these stupid lines to himself, hiding it in a little pouch behind his rapidly beating heart.
Because gods, is she the most beautiful woman he has ever beheld.
“Ah, did you? Wasn’t even hiding, you know.” Varka smiles.
“You are! I had to ask Barbatos where you might be.” Nicole laughs, deciding that the best place to rest her head on was on his lap.
Locks of her golden hair splayed over his legs, and over the grass and dandelions, and he couldn’t help but give it a soft caress. She looked carefree as ever. She was his moment of reprieve amidst the chaos and tumult. And with her, the sands of time seem to pause.
If only there was some kind of spell that would keep it this way forever.
“So… to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Nicole laughs, and Varka drinks up the sight, before the moment is gone for good. “You sound a lot like Mister Flins nowadays.”
“Do I really?”
“Yes.”
Nicole closes her eyes for a moment, before opening them again to meet Varka’s eyes, “Believe it or not, Sir Varka, I… feel completely weightless when I’m with you.” She said in admission, letting out bated breath as though she was holding it back all this time. “Therefore you owe me nothing at all.”
“Weightless, how? You want me to uh… carry you?” Varka jests, planting his palm on the grass, leaning on his arm, while the other presses gently over her hair.
He’d been lost wondering how they’re able to be this close and still feel so far apart.
She shrugs, “I’m not sure either.”
The words get snared at the tip of his tongue, “Well, Miss Nicole, you have all the time in the world to figure it out.”
“I often feel sad that I never get to see you,” Nicole says in passing, “I figured I might have grown too fond of you, Sir Varka.”
Varka laughs, “You missed me, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.” She smiles at him.
She quietly reaches for the scar that rests permanently on his cheek, brushing them gently with the back of her fingertips.
“You aren’t very talkative today, huh?” Varka says, leaning on the touch. He relishes in her warmth, basking in all its glory, it might have been the closest he’d been to heaven.
“Would you like me to be?” Nicole asked, pulling her hand back down.
She begins to talk about all things under the sun, and Varka would just sit there and listen. As they always have.
Her visits felt more like rendezvous as time passed by. They were not exactly friends, and not lovers either. Just toeing the line in between, where it isn’t spoken out loud and instead only whispered through a lingering touch or a fleeting glance.
“...and when I looked into her future, I couldn’t see anything! Just like what Mona saw in her divination. I figured it might have something to do with Irminsul, her records there may have been tampered with. Well, that or the fact that Lumine is someone not of this world,” Nicole rattles, and Varka couldn’t get any more curious.
“Wanna do the same for me?” Varka asks, “I’ve been very interested.”
Nicole excitedly sat up, giving Varka a surprised look, she chuckles, “Oh my, I never pegged you for someone scared of the future.”
“What? Who says I’m scared? That can’t be true. I’m just a very curious person.” Varka says, lips pursed, giving Nicole a gallic shrug.
“Consider me convinced, then.” Nicole did not look convinced in the slightest. Her lips are still curved upwards.
“Come on, Miss Nicole. I’m serious.” or at least Varka tried to be. “What if I die too young or something? Wouldn’t it be helpful if I knew early?”
She lays her palm out in front of him, “Alright, alright. Take my hand and close your eyes.”
Varka abided her instructions and held her hand, hers wouldn’t even cover his entire palm. And it took them a while to begin because Nicole kept on laughing.
“Sorry, my hand’s kinda — “
“Ohoho! Nervous, are we, Varka? Don’t worry, this won’t hurt,” if only he could see the look on her face right now.
But, as instructed, Varka keeps his eyes closed at the mischievous remark. She keeps Varka’s hand above her own, while Varka could feel the other drawing something on it.
“That tickles.”
“Ooh! What do we have here…” Nicole murmurs as her fingertips dance above Varka’s palm. “Fun fact: did you know that Mona Megistus and her teacher, Barbeloth, have a technique in divination that utilizes hydromancy? Whereas, I use pyro to foresee the unforeseeable future and prophetize calamities. Pretty neat, right?”
“Ah, that explains the heat,” Varka responds, “it is incredible. I expected no less from you, Miss Nicole.”
He feels a warm sensation on his palm, hot enough to be bearable and not burn. Just going over his skin in circles.
A few minutes pass and Nicole does not say a word, “Nicole, still there? It’s getting pretty lonely here. Talk me through it, will you?”
When she does not say anything, Varka opens his eyes. “Miss Nicole, you — ”
Her lips began to quiver when a lone tear escaped from her closed eyes, dampening her cheek. Shock could not even begin to describe what Varka felt. Was his future really that bad?
“Nicole?” Varka called out, wiping her tears away. The worry in his voice sounded all too foreign to even himself. “Answer me, please.”
“You shall come across a thoroughfare, however, all routes lead to only one destination. And you shall go through it alone.” Nicole said in barely a whisper.
When she opened her eyes, Varka let out a sigh, “You scared me there.” He murmurs, brushing the lock of hair that found its way to her face. “What does that even mean?”
Nicole smiles, her beaded eyes still glistening, “I cannot tell you anything more.”
Varka rests his head on her shoulder, just by the crook of her neck. “That bad, huh? That’s not surprising. Remind me not to ask you for a divination again.”
“Sir Varka…” she whispered, voice shaking slightly, “I am not allowed to fall in love with you.”
He pulls his head back, eyes cast downwards, “I know.”
“I cannot love you more than everyone else.”
“...I know.” His reply came weaker than it ought to be. He musters up a smile, chuckling softly as he did. It was a fact he had long accepted. “You never really had to. I’m fine with the way things are between us.”
He feels her delicate hand touch his chin, lifting it up to make him see her face.
She presses a light kiss just on the edge of his lips, “If I could, I would have chosen to love you more than anyone else, Sir Varka.”
Varka’s eyes begin to sting, but he rapidly blinks the tears away before it could even begin to take form.
“C’mon, don’t say that. I'm no one special. You never needed to do anything.”
Nicole pauses for a second.
“If I had loved you less, I wouldn’t need to go away.” Nicole whispers against his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll still see you, right?” Varka asked, almost pleading.
Nicole caresses his cheek, “If heaven permits.”
“Ah, of course.” Varka said in resignation, smiling wryly.
There was no point in fighting a war you are predestined to lose against. Many have tried, yes, but it came with a cost too great for Varka to even try and gamble. He'd rather have her love that's equal to everyone else than none at all — to monopolize it would be too selfish of him.
It took nearly fifty years before he could see Nicole again. But the fire that was supposed to wane only grew to an inferno set ablaze, and it quietly burns eternal. He never had the heart to forget her, despite all his efforts in trying.
Varka never understood why he still wouldn’t give up, he guesses it’s the knight in him talking. He just keeps on hanging onto that one sliver of hope, even if he knew that the probability of them together was little to none.
His scars accumulated and grew in numbers he could no longer count, and still he waited in Windrise for a dear angel who could pray for him — one who could save him from this condemnation Varka likes to call love.
“Found you.”
Her voice was soft. And her face bears the same features of when they first met. She was as beautiful as the day he'd met her. Whereas, he became this decrepit old man polishing the sword that had already been rendered useless, just as he was.
He became weak and brittle. The furrow on his forehead had grown firm as the years went by, but he hopes it didn't show too much now that she's here. That would be unfortunate. He wanted to atleast look good in her eyes before he goes. Foolish as it may be.
Varka laughs, “You found me.”
Nicole sat beside him under the same oak tree — whose leaves once became their carapace, as though the tree would be able to hide them from the eyes of the Heavenly Principles.
“Well, how could I not? You’re always in the same spot.” He could see that Nicole was just trying to hold her tears back with the way her voice broke.
“I always wait for you here,” Varka admits. No use of hiding it now.
“I know,” Nicole whispers, tears streaming down her face, “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“No, you’re just in time.” Varka cups Nicole’s face, memorizing it. It took him a while to realize there were tears dampening his cheeks. “I wanted to see you before I go.”
“You had a choice.” Nicole leans to his touch, eyes already filled with tears.
Varka smiles, “And I made one. I chose you.”
“You would have been happy.”
“Not without you.”
He’s done the math in his youth — and he was offered countless and endless solutions. But there were none that gave him a loophole, one that would make Nicole love him the way he wanted her to. In the end, he selfishly hoped it would happen, to no avail.
Varka's arm weakened, falling back to his side. Damn these brittle bones of his.
He feels his consciousness slowly dwindling, and Nicole's face is the only one he could manage to see in all the blur of his vision. His pulse is declining as each second that passed them by.
Out of breath, he struggles to say, “Don’t cry. I’ll see to it that I become an Angel, too.”
Nicole laughs weakly through her tears, “All Angels are exclusively female, Sir Varka.”
Varka let out a low chuckle. Endeared, he murmurs, “I knew you’d say that.”
“You knew me best.” Nicole's voice breaks.
“I love you,” he admits, a confession already fifty years long overdue, “I'm sorry… I didn’t want to love anyone else. Never had the resolve."
Nicole shakes her head, “I wish I realized sooner that I —”
"Don't. It's okay." Varka pleads.
She holds Varka’s hand, resting her forehead on Varka’s temple, watching as the light in his eyes slowly fade into oblivion.
Varka was unsure if he heard it right. Nicole weeped and her words were faltering.
Don't mourn for me, he wanted to say, but no words came out of his mouth.
An incorporeal warmth starts to envelope his entire body undivided, and then it goes up in flares, remaining gentle as it did. The last thing he could see in all the obscurity was a beacon of golden light — luminous and vibrant — as though it was the sun that had poured out its luster all over him.
Varka felt elated and free.
He is already soaring beyond the sky and the sun is already there when he arrives. It readily welcomes his fast approach, guiding him to a place kinder than heaven.
“Come back to me, Sir. And I will love you the way you’ve always deserved to be loved.”
Varka does not answer.